By Nupur Bagoria
Every year, the Bush Fellowship program recognizes remarkable individuals who are already making a difference in their communities—and empowers them to dream even bigger. The fellowship provides up to $150,000 over two years for leaders to design their own path forward, whether they’re working in business, non-profit, or government sectors.
We recently had the pleasure of speaking with Marvis Kilgore, one of the newest Bush Fellows. A dedicated teacher and educational equity strategist, Marvis is passionate about increasing Black male representation in teaching. In our conversation, he shares his vision for transforming education, and how the fellowship will help him turn that vision into reality.
The following interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Q: To start with, would you mind telling us a bit about yourself? How and why did you first get involved in the field of education?
I like to say education found me before I even realized I was looking for it. I grew up in the Deep South, in a little town called Holly Springs, Mississippi, where everybody knew your name, and the church and the schoolhouse sat at the center of the community. In my family, education was treated like gold.
My mama—the matriarch of our family and a true Steel Magnolia—used to say, “The world can take a lot from you, but never your education.” And in a town where history ran deep and dreams sometimes felt out of reach, those words became my compass.
My journey really took shape after I spent 10 years living in Qatar and traveling to nearly 50 countries. Standing in classrooms across Africa, Asia, and Europe taught me something powerful: education is universal, but access and opportunity are not. When I came back to the States, I felt called to take everything I’d learned—the global perspective, the cultural lessons, the deep sense of possibility—and pour it back into my community.
I started by mentoring kids, then coaching educators, and before long, I was leading programs focused on bringing more Black and Brown men into classrooms, because representation matters, especially for our children. Over time, I realized my work wasn’t just about teaching or systems; it was about creating spaces where students could see themselves, know their worth, and dream beyond the limits that others—or even they themselves—may have set.
For me, education isn’t just a career. It’s a calling. It’s about opening doors, lifting voices, and making sure that every young person, whether they’re from Holly Springs or halfway across the globe, knows they belong in any room they choose to walk into.
Q: What does educational equity mean to you?
Educational equity is about more than just access—it’s about opportunity, dignity, and belonging. It means building systems that recognize the genius that already exists in our children, instead of trying to “fix” them to fit into systems that were never built for them in the first place.
In my current work here in Minnesota, I’ve seen how deeply representation impacts students. Right now, people who identify as Black and male make up less than 1 percent of the teaching workforce in the state. That’s not just a statistic—it’s a call to action. Our children deserve to see themselves reflected in the classroom, to be taught and mentored by people who understand their stories.
At its core, educational equity is about rewriting the narrative, making sure that all students—especially those who have been historically left out or overlooked—have not only the resources they need but also the representation and affirmation that tell them: you belong here, and your dreams are valid.
Q: What are some of the current barriers you see to teacher retention? What needs to change?
Teacher retention, especially for educators of color, is one of our biggest challenges. The barriers are layered.
First, there’s the issue of isolation. When you’re one of the very few Black men in a school, it can feel lonely. You don’t always have colleagues who understand your experiences or the cultural weight you carry, and that isolation can lead to burnout.
Then there’s the reality of pay and workload. Teachers across the board are underpaid and overworked, but for Black male educators, there’s often an added expectation to serve as the disciplinarian, the mentor, and the cultural bridge. That invisible labor isn’t reflected in our job descriptions, our paychecks, or our professional growth opportunities—and over time, it takes a toll.
From a policy perspective, there are systemic barriers that need to be addressed. Recruitment programs often exist without strong retention strategies. We need better salary structures to make the profession competitive, loan forgiveness programs that actually ease the financial burden of teacher prep programs, and pathways for leadership and advancement that don’t require leaving the classroom.
We also need policies that prioritize creating inclusive school cultures—ones that not only hire teachers of color but invest in mentorship programs, ongoing cultural competency training, and networks of support. Retention isn’t just about numbers; it’s about building environments where educators feel seen, valued, and equipped to thrive.
If we want to change the trajectory, we need a comprehensive approach: systemic investment, intentional support, and a cultural shift that truly honors the identities and contributions of educators of color—not just in theory, but in practice.
Q: Your path took you from ESL teaching to program coordination in Qatar, and now to founding Code Savvy. Could you share more about that journey? How did it lead you to the Bush Fellowship?
My path in education has been anything but linear.
I started out teaching ESL, but the truth is, I went to Qatar to pass my own litmus test. As a Black man in America, I was undaunted by the negative images that society often projected about people who looked like me. I wanted to see the world, to test the limits of what was possible, and, if I’m honest, I was chasing my version of the “American dream.” But the reality was, my educator salary, coupled with student loans, made that dream feel complicated, even out of reach.
Traveling and living abroad gave me a global perspective and a deeper understanding of the power of education as a tool for liberation. When I came back to Minnesota, I stepped into program leadership, and eventually became the Founding Director of Sirtify at Normandale Community College—a program designed to recruit, retain, and support men of color pursuing careers in education. Sirtify is about building pathways and removing barriers, ensuring our communities see more men who look like me leading in classrooms.
That work led me to Code Savvy, where I helped expand access to computer science and digital equity for young people, particularly students from communities often left out of the tech space. Each role sharpened my vision: that equity in education requires systemic change and intentional investment in leadership.
When I first learned about the Bush Fellowship, I was brand new to the idea. But I told myself: One day, that’s going to be me. And a few years later, that dream became my reality. Every classroom I’ve taught in, every student I’ve mentored, every program I’ve built—all of it prepared me for this moment, to take the next step in growing as a leader and creating even greater impact.
Q: What role have you played in making education more equitable?
Throughout my career, I’ve focused on creating opportunities for students and educators who have historically been underserved. My work with Sirtify allowed me to lead efforts to recruit, retain, and support men of color pursuing teaching careers—addressing the stark underrepresentation in classrooms.
I also had the privilege of taking nine students to Senegal on a study abroad program, where they engaged in service learning and taught lessons in an international school. Beyond program coordination and mentoring, I worked to secure funding to remove financial barriers for aspiring teachers, ensuring opportunity and support were available every step of the way.
Building on that work, in my most recent role as Executive Director of Code Savvy, I focused on aligning the organization with its mission and vision while expanding access to historically underserved and underrepresented communities. I worked to ensure that all children had access to high-quality, inclusive computer science education—not just teaching technical skills, but creating spaces where students could see themselves represented in tech, feel empowered, and imagine the possibilities for their futures.
Across both roles, my goal has always been the same: to remove barriers, create pathways, and build equitable systems where students and educators alike can thrive, lead, and see themselves reflected in the work they do and the communities they serve.
Q: What’s your vision for the future of K–12 education?
I want every student to feel seen, valued, and empowered to reach their full potential—regardless of their zip code, background, or the color of their skin. My experiences have shown me that equity is not optional; it’s foundational.
I believe schools must do more than teach content. They should cultivate cultural literacy, critical thinking, and confidence, preparing students to thrive in a complex, interconnected world. Representation is central to this vision. Students need to see themselves in their teachers, mentors, and leaders—people who understand their experiences and affirm their potential. That’s why investing in pathways for educators of color, and supporting them to thrive, is essential.
I also envision education that embraces innovation without leaving anyone behind. Technology, project-based learning, and global experiences—like the study abroad programs I’ve led—can expand opportunity and broaden horizons. But equity must remain at the center, ensuring all students, especially those historically underserved, can fully benefit.
Ultimately, my vision is for K–12 education to be equitable, inclusive, and aspirational; a system where students don’t just dream of what’s possible, but are equipped, encouraged, and empowered to make it a reality.
Q: Why is the Bush Fellowship such an important next step for you? How can it help turn your vision of inclusive education into reality?
This fellowship matters because it gives me the time, resources, and space to dream bigger than I could alone. It will allow me to take ideas that work in pockets and transform them into systems that touch entire communities. It’s about giving students and educators the chance to see themselves, their gifts, and their futures reflected back at them, and to know that they belong in spaces that historically were not built for them.
For me, it’s personal. I know what it feels like to carry the weight of expectation, to navigate spaces where the odds feel stacked, and to fight for recognition of my potential. I see that same fight in the students I mentor, in the men I’ve guided into classrooms, and in every young person who deserves a pathway to thrive.
The Bush Fellowship allows me to turn urgency into strategy, passion into action, and vision into impact. It’s the bridge between what I’ve learned, what I’ve built, and what I can create—a future where access, representation, and equity aren’t just ideals, but lived realities for every student.
Marvis Kilgore is a visionary leader, cultural strategist, and 2025 Bush Foundation Fellow who embodies the fusion of Southern roots, global perspective, and radical imagination. For more than two decades, Marvis has been a champion of equity, education, and community transformation. His work bridges boardrooms and classrooms, connecting the lived experiences of underserved families with innovative solutions that spark generational change.
Nupur Bagoria is a writer/editor who brings both precision and creativity to every project she takes on. When she’s not wrangling words or getting lost in books, you’ll find her deep in her latest DIY project or tending to her growing plant collection.
