Trump Education Secretary Pick Betsy DeVos Flunks Out

“My question is—and I don’t mean to be rude—but do you think if you were not a multi-millionaire, if your family had not made hundreds of millions of dollars of contributions to the Republican Party, that you would be sitting here today?” Sanders asked.

DeVos adjusted her posture, offering a carefully measured, soft-spoken response.

“Senator, as a matter of fact, I do think that there would be that possibility,” she replied. “I’ve worked very hard on behalf of parents and children for the last almost thirty years to be a voice for parents and to be a voice for students, and to empower parents to make decisions on behalf of their children—primarily low-income children. Thank you.”

Back in his studio, Tim adjusted his headset, unimpressed by the exchange.

“Bernie pretty much brought the hammer down right there,” Tim observed. “There’s really no coming back from a question like that. She tried to scramble for a defense, but it didn’t make any sense. She ended up sounding like a contestant in a poorly run beauty pageant, rambling on like, ‘I think America is really great and we should just be people who like people and work hard.’ It was embarrassing. Not good at all.”

If Sanders landed the opening blow, Senator Tim Kaine of Virginia arrived to scatter whatever remained of her credibility, pressing her firmly on her past statements regarding public education.

“In a 2015 speech on education, you were pretty blunt,” Kaine noted, citing her recorded words. “You said quote, ‘government really is useless,’ and you called the public school system a quote, ‘dead end.’ In order to clarify, you never attended a public K–12 school, did you?”

“Correct,” DeVos answered smoothly.

“And your children did not either?”

“Correct. That’s correct.”

“And you’ve never taught at a K–12 public school?”

“Correct,” she conceded. “I have not, but I’ve mentored in one.”

Kaine leaned into his microphone, his tone growing increasingly grave.

“I worry about the effect of a leader who believes government is fundamentally flawed on the morale of the workforce,” Kaine said. “Teachers and others do better when their morale is high. Would you agree with me?”

“Absolutely,” DeVos responded. “And I support great teachers.”

“And the attitude of a leader of an organization matters a lot to the morale of the workforce. Would you agree with me on that?”

“Absolutely,” she repeated.

The underlying question hung in the air: if someone harbors such deep-seated skepticism toward the structure of public education, how can they possibly inspire the millions of educators who show up to public classrooms every morning?

Next came Senator Chris Murphy of Connecticut. Ever since the devastating Sandy Hook Elementary tragedy in his home state, Murphy had spearheaded legislative efforts for stricter safety standards and tighter firearm restrictions around schools. He looked at DeVos and brought the conversation to school safety.

“Do you think that firearms have any place in or around schools?” Murphy asked.

“I think that’s best left to locals and states to decide,” DeVos replied, dodging a direct stance.

Murphy pressed further, refusing to let her slide. “You can’t say definitively today that guns shouldn’t be in schools?”

DeVos faltered, reaching for an example cited earlier in the hearing. “Well, I will refer back to Senator Enzi and the school that he was talking about in Wapiti, Wyoming. I think probably there, I would imagine that there’s probably a gun in the school to protect from potential grizzlies.”

“From potential grizzlies?” Murphy echoed in disbelief.

Sitting in his studio, Tim Black erupted in laughter, leaning toward his mic with a bemused expression.

“You know, I don’t think most American schools are out here wrestling with wild grizzly bears charging through the hallway to steal somebody’s lunch basket,” Tim remarked, shaking his head. “Betsy DeVos clearly doesn’t have a firm grasp on public education—or on grizzly bears, for that matter.”

The sequence of missteps continued with Senator Al Franken of Minnesota, who steered the questioning into fundamental educational philosophy, asking how student achievement should be evaluated: by absolute proficiency or by individual growth over time.

“I would like your views on the relative advantage of assessments and using them to measure proficiency or to measure growth,” Franken inquired.

DeVos paused, visibly struggling to navigate the policy terminology.

“Thank you, Senator, for that question,” she began awkwardly. “I think if I’m understanding your question correctly around proficiency, I would also correlate it to competency and mastery, so that each student is measured according to the advancement that they’re making in each subject area.”

Franken shook his head, interjecting to set the record straight.

“Well, that’s growth. That’s not proficiency,” Franken explained. “The growth they’re making is growth. Proficiency is an arbitrary standard—whether they’ve reached a specific benchmark, like a third-grade reading level.”

“Well, I was just asking to clarify then,” DeVos offered.

“This is a subject that has been debated in the education community for years,” Franken said, his disappointment obvious. “I’ve advocated growth as chairman and every member of this committee knows, because with proficiency, teachers tend to ignore the kids at the top who won’t fall below the line, and they ignore the kids at the bottom who may struggle to reach it regardless. So I’ve been a strong advocate of growth. But it surprises me that you don’t know this issue. If you’re going to be Secretary of Education, it would be good for you to understand that.”

The relentless questioning culminated with Senator Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts, who addressed the stark divide between the nominee’s personal life and the reality facing millions of working-class families across America.

Warren pointed out that DeVos had never set foot in a public school as a student or parent, nor had she or her children ever needed a Pell Grant or a federal loan to afford higher education.

“How could you possibly identify with all the families across the country who would depend on you to make sure they can get an education?” Warren challenged. “You don’t know what it’s like. You simply can’t relate.”

Watching the recording wrap up, Tim Black leaned back in his leather studio chair, taking a slow sip from his mug before delivering his final verdict to his online audience.

“All of this goes to show that Betsy DeVos is an awful choice,” Tim concluded. “I think even reasonable supporters of the administration can reach that same conclusion if they look at this woman’s testimony objectively. Without massive family wealth behind her, she wouldn’t be anywhere near this position.”

He gestured toward the screen, nodding in agreement with the committee members.

“Bernie Sanders was right,” Tim emphasized. “Al Franken was right. She doesn’t understand the intricate mechanics of education, and Senator Warren was spot-on too—she is completely out of touch with everyday working people, and she has no business running that department.”

Tim squared his shoulders toward the lens, signing off with his signature delivery.

“I’m Tim Black. Thank you for watching this video, and I’ll see you on the next one,” he said, before adding one final message for the Oval Office. “And Trump—you’ve got to do better, brother. Peace.”

He cut the feed, leaving behind a sobering realization of just how much crucial information had unfolded over the course of a single, chaotic hearing.