In today’s chaotic and polarized political environment, Social-Emotional Learning (SEL) has become one of the most misunderstood and misrepresented concepts in education. What should be a universally embraced tool to help students develop self-awareness, emotional regulation, empathy, and resilience has instead become a lightning rod for controversy. Politicians from both ends of the political spectrum have taken turns distorting SEL into something it was never intended to be. Some miscast it as radical indoctrination. Others risk treating it as a warm, fuzzy replacement for academic rigor. And both are missing the larger point entirely: SEL is not about ideology or avoidance. It’s about integration. When embedded into high-quality instruction, SEL doesn’t take away from academics; it makes deep learning possible. Oddly while both sides bicker over SEL, they remain curiously united on something else: Positive Behavioral Interventions and Supports (PBIS). And that’s where the hypocrisy becomes impossible to ignore.
Florida Governor Ron DeSantis famously said, “Math is about getting the right answer. It’s not about how you feel about the problem,” justifying the removal of math textbooks that included SEL concepts. But that remark reveals a fundamental misunderstanding. Teachers know that academic success is not just about content knowledge; it’s about regulation, resilience, and mindset. When students freeze in the face of frustration or fear of failure, no math strategy will save them. SEL doesn’t distract from academics; it opens the door to them.
Conservative activist Christopher Rufo has called SEL “a delivery mechanism for radical pedagogies such as critical race theory and gender deconstructionism,” claiming its intent is to “soften children at an emotional level… and then rewire their behavior according to the dictates of left‑wing ideology.” This rhetoric turns empathy into manipulation and social awareness into indoctrination. It erases the very real work teachers do every day to help students manage anxiety, communicate, cope, and persist.
In some progressive circles, SEL has become a buzzword for trauma-informed work that lacks substance. I’ve seen schools pour time into morning circles, journaling sessions, and themed SEL weeks only to dial back academic expectations, as if rigor and emotional safety cannot coexist. The belief that “students can’t learn unless they feel safe” is true but incomplete. Safety is the starting point, not the destination. SEL is not about replacing instruction. It’s about ensuring students are ready to learn and able to engage deeply. When SEL becomes a soft substitute for cognitive challenge, it risks becoming an equity issue of its own, especially for marginalized and disabled students who already face different expectations.
Now here’s the part almost no one wants to talk about: While both sides argue over SEL, they almost universally support PBIS, Positive Behavioral Interventions and Supports. In red states and blue states alike, PBIS is the go-to behavior framework. It’s everywhere. And yet, it often undercuts everything SEL is supposed to do.
PBIS sounds harmless at first: “Catch students being good.” “Reinforce positive behavior.” “Use data to drive behavior plans.” But in practice, PBIS becomes a rigid system of public tracking, rewards, and consequences. Students are managed through clip charts, color codes, token economies, and behavioral scripts. Quiet students get stickers. Dysregulated kids get written up. Children quickly learn that emotions are to be hidden, not processed. That “good behavior” is about sitting still, staying quiet, and smiling even if they’re melting down inside.
And somehow, this system gets bipartisan approval.
The very same conservatives calling SEL dangerous are happy to implement PBIS systems that reward emotional suppression and punish natural neurodivergent behavior. And the same progressives advocating for trauma-informed schools are also promoting systems where students are publicly ranked and tokenized for basic self-control. It’s the most bipartisan hypocrisy in education today.
Even more disturbing is the growing trend of layering SEL on top of PBIS. In theory, this sounds like a good thing, bringing emotional intelligence into behavior support. But in practice, SEL gets absorbed into the same old compliance-driven frameworks. Instead of teaching true regulation, PBIS just rebrands it: “Use your calming strategies or lose a point.” “Name your feeling or miss recess.” The result? SEL becomes a behavior management tool, not a developmental practice. Students don’t learn to self-regulate; they learn to perform regulation under the threat of consequence. That’s not SEL. That’s control.
And let’s be honest: PBIS isn’t about helping students thrive. It’s about keeping classrooms quiet and adult anxiety low.
It’s about predictability, not equity. It relies on reward systems to shape compliance, not understanding. It punishes kids for trauma responses, sensory needs, and communication differences, then calls it progress when the room gets quieter.
So what’s the alternative? Real SEL. Not the checkbox version. Not the glitter poster version. Not the “mindfulness Monday” version. Integrated, embedded, academically rigorous SEL. SEL that doesn’t replace math lives inside it. That doesn’t push reading to the side; it deepens comprehension. That doesn’t sit on a behavior chart; it guides classroom norms.
One question I hear frequently from teachers, parents, and even critics is, “What if I just reward the whole class instead of using SEL or behavior incentives?”
This question often comes from a genuine desire to create a positive classroom environment without resorting to punitive measures or exclusionary discipline. While the impulse behind rewarding everyone is understandable, after all, no one wants to single out students or create competition that might alienate peers, the solution is more complex than handing out group rewards or treats.
The fundamental issue is that these reward systems, whether for individuals or entire classes, rely on external motivators that can quickly lose their effectiveness and fail to address why students behave the way they do. SEL, when it is truly integrated into academics and classroom culture, shifts the focus away from external rewards and instead centers on intrinsic motivation, that deep, internal drive to engage, learn, and succeed because the work feels meaningful, relevant, and doable.
When students find their classroom activities fun and engaging, not as a surface-level gimmick but because the lessons are thoughtfully designed to connect academic content with real-world skills and social-emotional growth, they want to participate for the satisfaction of learning itself. They become invested in the process of problem-solving, in collaborating with their peers, and in stretching their thinking.
Social-emotional skills like self-regulation, empathy, communication, and resilience are not extra “soft skills” set aside for separate lessons; they are embedded within every academic task. For example, a science project requires students to negotiate roles and responsibilities, manage frustrations when experiments do not go as planned, and reflect on their successes and failures, all while learning content. A literature discussion offers chances to practice perspective-taking and articulate emotions through text analysis. These integrated SEL opportunities provide a natural, authentic source of motivation, replacing the need for sticker charts or whole-class candy rewards.
When students feel seen, heard, and supported in these ways, behavior improves organically because students are no longer behaving just to earn something; they are behaving because they want to be part of a community where their learning and well-being matter.
This internal motivation creates classrooms where academic engagement and social-emotional growth are inseparable. The result is a vibrant learning environment where incentives become unnecessary, not because students are forced to comply, but because the classroom is a place where they genuinely want to be, learn, and contribute.
So, rather than relying on the sometimes clunky and short-lived solution of rewarding entire classes, teachers can focus on crafting lessons that weave SEL deeply into the content. This approach honors students as whole people, respects their developmental needs, and builds the kind of motivation that lasts well beyond any external reward system. When done this way, SEL does not pull time or energy away from academics; it powers them.
We should be teaching empathy through literature analysis. Self-regulation through problem-solving in math. Responsible decision-making through science labs and history debates. SEL doesn’t happen instead of learning. It happens through it.
When SEL is done well, classrooms aren’t just calm; they’re courageous. Students are engaged, not because they fear punishment, but because they feel safe to take risks.
Mistakes become learning opportunities, not detentions. Students develop real tools for managing emotions, resolving conflicts, advocating for needs, and staying focused because they are taught these tools with the same intention and care we apply to phonics or place value.
And here’s the thing: this isn’t theoretical. Teachers do this every day. In classrooms across the country, educators are building this integrated SEL into their content, relationships, routines, and expectations. But they are doing so despite, not because of, current policy frameworks. They are doing this while being told to push rewards for silence and demerits for dysregulation. They are doing this while PBIS systems hang on the wall and SEL sits on a shelf.
If we want schools where all students succeed, especially disabled students, neurodivergent students, students navigating trauma, and those living at the margins, we need to stop arguing about whether SEL belongs and start investing in how to do it right. And that means dropping PBIS. Entirely. Not tweaking it. Not renaming it. Let it go. It’s holding us back from the very kind of educational healing we claim to care about.
SEL isn’t the enemy. It’s not a fad. It’s not fluff. And it’s not just for the calm, compliant, or high-achieving kids. It’s for everyone. But only if we stop packaging it in behaviorism and politics and start honoring it as real pedagogy.
Our students don’t need more public color systems, sticker economies, or hollow affirmations. They need educators who are allowed to teach the whole child with dignity, depth, and humanity.
Let’s get out of our own way.

