When you step into a roadless area of a national forest, the difference is immediate. The air is cooler, the woods quieter, the water clearer. You hear the splash of a mountain stream or the rustle of leaves in the breeze. These are some of the most intact places in our national forests—rare sanctuaries where roads have not carved up landscapes, where adventure and clean water still thrive. 

Roadless areas are rare, especially in the eastern U.S., and they are now under threat. The Trump administration has proposed dismantling the Roadless Area Conservation Rule—better known as the Roadless Rule—one of America’s most important bipartisan conservation achievements. It safeguards 45 million acres of national forests. For the South, the loss would be devastating. 

The Forest Service finally listened to the American people and agreed it’s common sense to stop crisscrossing remote areas with roads and logging.

Sarah Francisco, Virginia Office Director

A rule born out of crisis 

The Roadless Rule was born from necessity. Starting after World War II through the late 1990s, the U.S. Forest Service sliced up our national forests with logging roads, liquidated stands of old-growth, and degraded watersheds with roads it couldn’t afford to maintain. Facing public backlash, the Forest Service relented and temporarily halted new roads in roadless areas in 1998. Three years later, with encouragement from SELC and many others, the agency officially adopted the Roadless Rule.  

As Sarah Francisco, Director of SELC’s Virginia office, explained: 

“With the Roadless Rule, the Forest Service finally listened to the American people and agreed it’s common sense to stop crisscrossing remote areas with roads and logging. The rule drew a simple line: Don’t build new roads and launch new logging projects in our remaining roadless areas. What the rule really did was protect the status quo—preserving access for hunting, fishing, mountain biking, and backpacking while preventing further damage.” 

That stance has kept some of the South’s most cherished landscapes intact for decades. 

A call to protect what we cannot replace 

For Sam Evans, head of SELC’s National Forests and Parks Program, the fight is not just about policy—it’s also personal.  

“The first places I visited in the national forests as a teenager were roadless areas,” Evans recalled. “I fell in love with these lands because they were so different from the beaten-up pine plantations where I grew up—almost magical. I’ve spent the rest of my life trying to understand and protect that magic. For most national forest users, their favorite spots—the quiet hikes, scenic vistas, crystal clear trout streams—include roadless areas, even if they don’t realize it.” 

So why dismantle a rule that has worked for nearly a quarter century? The proposal is more about lining the pockets of logging and mining companies than it is about serving the public. But particularly in the South, where steep terrain and fragile watersheds make responsible logging difficult, the costs far outweigh any gains. 

What’s at stake 

Undoing the Roadless Rule would unleash irreparable harm far beyond habitats lost. 

Roadless areas are where people’s favorite stories are set—where families enjoy nature, anglers fish for native brook trout, and mountain bikers test themselves on rugged terrain. Even if visitors don’t know the term “roadless area,” they know the feeling: the unique quiet of a forest without traffic or the chance glimpse of a bear. These experiences fuel a thriving recreation economy in places like western North Carolina and northern Georgia. 

Roadbuilding is the single biggest threat to water quality in national forests. Roads fast track dirt into mountain streams, fouling drinking water supplies, and block fish and other aquatic wildlife. The Roadless Rule has curbed this, ensuring safe drinking water for millions of Americans. 

The Forest Service already manages more miles of roads than the U.S. Department of Transportation and faces a multi-billion-dollar maintenance backlog. New roads make no sense when the agency can’t afford the ones it has.  

“The closer you look, the worse the math gets,” Evans explained. “This proposal makes no sense for communities, no sense for taxpayers, no sense for the Forest Service itself. The only benefit would be to the very few industry players who want to sell our heritage for a quick buck.” 

The road ahead 

The Roadless Rule has been under attack before. Each time, public support kept the rule intact, and SELC played a key role in ensuring Southerners’ voices are heard. Tapping into local ties across the South brings a broad, diverse coalition together to protect these beloved places. This widespread outcry was effective in establishing the rule, and in fending off the challenges to it since then.  

“This rule is the product of care,” Francisco says. “Care that people across this region have for their forests, their water, their wildlife, and their communities. And that care hasn’t gone away.” 

These protections matter today, and for generations to come. They safeguard drinking water for millions, support local economies, protect vital habitat, and preserve landscapes that define who we are as a nation.  

As Evans puts it: “We have complete confidence that people from this region will not stand for this. When they understand what’s at stake, they will tell the Forest Service: No, not on our watch. These places matter too much.” 

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Losing roadless areas

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The Save Our Sign Archive went live today. The full text of the launch announcement follows below.

The Save Our Signs project (SOS), a community-driven effort to preserve National Park Service (NPS) interpretive materials before they are removed from public view, is proud to announce the launch of the Save Our Signs Archive, a collection of photographs taken by visitors at National Parks. This open access “people’s archive” is a curated collection of over 10,000 photos of National Park Service interpretive signs that have been submitted to Save Our Signs by members of the public.

Save Our Signs was formed as a result of Executive Order 14253, “Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History,” which seeks to erase “negative” stories from any federally-managed properties, and the subsequent Secretary of the Interior Order 3431, which called for the removal any materials that “inappropriately disparage Americans past or living.” Save Our Signs hopes to preserve our nation’s rich history by documenting the signs and exhibits used to educate visitors in the National Parks, the nation’s largest outdoor classroom.

“I’m so excited to share this collaborative photo collection with the public. As librarians, our goal is to preserve the knowledge and stories told in these signs. We want to put the signs back in the people’s hands,” said Jenny McBurney, Government Publications Librarian at the University of Minnesota and one of the co-founders of the Save Our Signs project. “We are so grateful for all the people who have contributed their time and energy to this project. The outpouring of support has been so heartening. We hope the launch of this archive is a way for people to see all their work come together.”

The SOS Archive includes an online collection of the crowdsourced photos organized by NPS site, and a spreadsheet that houses volunteer-provided details for each individual photo submission. In addition to the name of the park, this includes the date that the photo was taken, and may include the title of the sign, if it was submitted by the volunteer. Since this information came from volunteers all over the country, the Save Our Signs team is not able to independently verify dates and locations. Please see the SOS FAQs page on the Save Our Signs website for more information about the photos included in the collection.

All photos included in the SOS Archive have been released to the public domain, and the Save Our Signs team welcomes anyone to download and use them as they wish.

“We’re inspired by the people who have sent us photos and told us how much the National Parks mean to them,” said Dr. Kirsten Delegard, Project Director of Mapping Prejudice, and one of the co-founders of the Save Our Signs project. “This effort to shine a spotlight on historical erasure is just beginning. We need people to continue to collect more photos and tell other Americans what materials have already been removed from the National Parks.”

“We also encourage people to use their expertise to engage with this collection,” added Molly Blake, Social Sciences Librarian at the University of Minnesota and another co-founder of Save Our Signs. “We invite researchers, journalists, artists, and members of the general public to use these photographs to build visualizations and analyze the content of these signs that, collectively, tell stories about our nation’s past that belong to all of us.”

While the initial crowdsourcing effort was originally given an end date of September 17, 2025, with increasing reports of NPS interpretive signs that have been flagged for removal or removed altogether, SOS will continue to accept photo submissions at saveoursigns.org for the foreseeable future. Any photos received after September 24 will be released at a later date. See the Project Updates page for more information.

About Save Our Signs

Save Our Signs is a community collaboration co-founded by a group of librarians, public
historians, and data experts in partnership with the Data Rescue Project and Safeguarding Research & Culture. Project leadership includes:

• Dr. Kirsten Delegard, Project Director, Mapping Prejudice, University of Minnesota
• Jenny McBurney, Government Publications Librarian, University of Minnesota
• Molly Blake, Social Sciences Librarian, University of Minnesota
• Dr. Lynda Kellam, Data Rescue Project Steering Committee
• Lena Bohman, Data Rescue Project Steering Committee

Direct to Save Our Signs (SOS) Archive

Direct to Save Our Signs Project Website (SOS)

Direct to SOS FAQs

The case could give educators much-needed guidance on free speech protections and how that speech might be limited when social media comments disrupt educational environments, experts say.

The first words I uttered after successfully defending my dissertation were, “Wow, what a ride. From Head Start to Ph.D.!” Saying them reminded me where it all began: sitting cross-legged with a picture book at the Westside Head Start Center, just a few blocks from my childhood home in Jackson, Mississippi. 

I don’t remember every detail from those early years, but I remember the feeling: I was happy at Head Start. I remember the books, the music, the joy. That five-minute bus ride from our house to the Westside Center turned out to be the shortest distance between potential and achievement. 

And my story is not unique. Every year, hundreds of thousands of children — kids whose names we may never know, though our futures depend on them — walk through Head Start’s doors. Like me, they find structure, literacy, curiosity and belonging.  

For many families, Head Start is the first place outside the home where a child’s potential is nurtured and celebrated. Yet, this program that builds futures and strengthens families is now under threat, and it’s imperative that we protect it. 

Years later, while training for high school cross-country meets, I’d run past the park next to the center and pause, flooded with memories. Head Start laid the foundation for everything that followed. It gave me structure, sparked my curiosity and built my early literacy skills. It even fed my short-lived obsession with chocolate milk.  

More than that, Head Start made me feel seen and valued. 

Related: A lot goes on in classrooms from kindergarten to high school. Keep up with our free weekly newsletter on K-12 education. 

There’s a clear, unbroken line between the early lessons I learned at Head Start and the doctoral dissertation I defended decades later. Head Start didn’t just teach me my ABCs — it taught me that learning could be joyful, that I was capable and that I belonged in a classroom.  

That belief carried me through elementary school, Yale and George Washington University and to a Ph.D. in public policy and public administration. Now, as part of my research at the Urban Institute, I’m working to expand access to high-quality early learning, because I know firsthand what a difference it makes.  

Research backs up what my story shows: Investments in Head Start and high-quality early childhood education change lives by improving health and educational achievement in later years, and benefit the economy. Yet today there is growing skepticism about the value of Head Start, reflecting an ongoing reluctance to give early childhood education the respect it deserves.  

If Head Start funding is cut, thousands of children — especially from communities like mine in Jackson, where families worked hard but opportunities were limited — could lose access to a program that helps level the playing field. These are the children of young parents and single parents, of working families who may not have many other options but still dare to dream big for their kids.  

And that is why I am worried. Funding for Head Start has been under threat. Although President Donald Trump’s proposed fiscal 2026 budget would maintain Head Start funding at its current $12.3 billion, Project 2025, the influential conservative policy document, calls for eliminating the program. The administration recently announced that Head Start would no longer enroll undocumented children, which a group of Democratic attorneys general say will force some programs to close.  

Related: Head Start is in turmoil 

I feel compelled to speak out because, for our family, Head Start wasn’t just a preschool — it was the beginning of everything. For me, it meant a future I never could have imagined. For my mother, Head Start meant peace of mind — knowing her son was in a nurturing, educational environment during the critical developmental years. My mother, Nicole, brought character, heart and an unwavering belief in my potential — and Head Start helped carry that forward. 

My mother was just 18 when she enrolled me in Head Start. “A young mother with big dreams and limited resources,” she recounted to me recently, adding that she had “showed up to an open house with a baby in my arms and hope in my heart.” 

Soon afterward, Mrs. Helen Robinson, who was in charge of the Head Start in Jackson, entered our lives. She visited our home regularly, bringing books, activities and reassurance. A little yellow school bus picked me up each morning. 

Head Start didn’t just support me, though. It also supported my mother and gave her tips and confidence. She took me to the library regularly and made sure I was always surrounded by books and learning materials that would challenge and inspire me. 

It helped my mother and countless others like her gain insight into child development, early learning and what it means to advocate for their children’s future.  

Twenty-five years after those early mornings when I climbed onto the Head Start bus, we both still think about how different our lives might have been without that opportunity. Head Start stood beside us, and that support changed our lives. 

As we debate national priorities, we must ask ourselves: Can we afford to dismantle a program that builds futures, strengthens families and delivers proven returns? 

My family provides living proof of Head Start’s power.  

This isn’t just our story. It is the story of millions of others and could be the story of millions more if we choose to protect and invest in what works. 

Travis Reginal holds a doctorate in public policy and public administration and is a graduate of the Head Start program, Yale University and George Washington University. He is a former Urban Institute researcher. 

Contact the opinion editor at opinion@hechingerreport.org. 

This story about the Head Start funding was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for Hechinger’s weekly newsletter. 

The post OPINION: Head Start ‘changed our lives’: A newly minted Ph.D. reflects on why this program must be saved  appeared first on The Hechinger Report.

It’s a crisp August morning, a day that feels more like fall instead of late summer, as Heath Cartee wades into the South Mills River outside of Brevard, North Carolina.  

“It’s mostly brown and rainbow trout in the South Mills. Some of the creeks feeding into it have brook trout,” Cartee explained. 

The fishing spot isn’t easy to get to — it required a miles-long mountain bike ride and a handful of knee-deep stream crossings. But Cartee, who owns Pisgah Outdoors, says the peaceful setting and plentiful fish makes the trek worth it.  

“When it’s tough to get to water, I enjoy it more,” Cartee explained. “You don’t hear any cars out here. There aren’t the sounds of machinery. We’ve only seen two people today, and they were up by the trailhead.”   

The spot is deep inside the South Mills Roadless Area, a part of the Pisgah National Forest that is protected by the roadless rule — a policy has safeguarded some of the South’s wildest forests by preventing the Forest Service from building unnecessary roads through them or opening them up to logging and mining projects. The rule is extremely popular, especially among backcountry hunters and anglers.  

But now the Forest Service is recklessly proposing to get rid of the roadless rule, putting places like the South Mills Roadless Area — and its renowned trout streams — at risk.  

“Without roadless areas, there’s no anglers. Plain and simple,” Cartee said.

An angler’s paradise 

The roadless rule was enacted 25 years ago in response to the realization that we were quickly losing our backcountry spaces inch by inch and mile by mile as the Forest Service’s road system — and the resulting logging projects — spread across our public lands.

The rule promises that our least-developed public lands can be enjoyed by the public without the threat of destructive projects. Currently there are more than 600,000 acres of roadless areas in the South, with roadless areas in every state in SELC’s footprint, and these places boast iconic hiking and mountain biking trails, drinking water sources, and old-growth forests.  

I see a positive impact when people come out here. I see people change.

Heath Cartee, Pisgah Outdoors

Notably, the lack of roads and development also make these places world-class destinations for hunters and anglers. Some of the best trout fishing streams in the region are in southern Appalachian roadless areas, and they attract people from all over who are in search of unique backcountry experiences.  

When Cartee guides fishing trips in the South Mills Roadless areas, he says he can see a change in people after they spend some time there.  

“I see a positive impact when people come out here. I see people change,” he said.  

Roadless areas like the South Mills Roadless Area are also important refuges for brook trout, a popular sport fish that’s seen its numbers decline by more than 80 percent. 

“The history of logging back in the 1800s and 1900s really pushed brook trout to the brink,” Cartee said. “We really don’t want to see that happen again.”  

Roads put world-class fisheries at risk 

The Forest Service’s plan to get rid of the roadless rule would mean crisscrossing places like the South Mills Roadless Area with roads and bringing industrial development to these wild places, putting their world-class trout streams and popular hunting areas at risk.   

Road construction dumps huge amounts of dirt into clear mountain streams, and the culverts used to cross streams often make it impossible for fish to reach their habitats. Roads also make it easier for pollution to run off of the landscapes and flow into rivers and streams.  

When they fall into disrepair — which is often — roads pollute nearby streams, clogging them with dirt and sediment that hurts water quality and chokes out fish and other aquatic life. A 2015 survey of North Carolina’s Nantahala and Pisgah National Forests found that a shocking 40 percent of roads that cross streams were causing accelerated erosion or contributing visible sediment directly to the water.  

Nationwide, the Forest Service estimates that there are “at least” 20,000 problematic stream crossings —a number that is almost certainly an underestimation because the agency has failed to assess the majority of its roads. It would cost more than $1.2 billion to repair the Forest Services’ existing degraded roads, and that number would surely balloon if the roadless rule is revoked. 

Reckless logging threatens important streams 

Importantly, the Forest Service isn’t looking to building new roads in roadless areas to help folks get to their favorite fishing hole. In fact, less than 25 percent of the agency’s current road system is open to passenger cars. Instead, the roads would be built for logging trucks as companies look to cut down forests that were previously protected by the roadless rule. The Forest Service has said as much, writing in its notice of intent to repeal the roadless rule that the goal is to “take immediate action” to increase logging on public lands.  

Some of the South’s most special places are off the beaten path.

Sam Evans, National Forests and Parks Program Leader

Logging in roadless forests reduces critical shade along waterways, increasing stream temperatures. Rising stream temperatures can be deadly for fish and other aquatic life, including brook trout, which are especially at risk when the water warms.  

“Some of the South’s most special places are off the beaten path. But rescinding the roadless rule would allow the Forest Service to close off these areas for logging and other destructive projects that would scar these incredible places and hurt the wildlife that depend on them,” Sam Evans, leader of SELC’s National Forests and Parks Program, said. “Once they build roads and log these areas, they will never be the same.”  

Protecting the next generation of hunters and anglers 

After a while, Cartee swaps his rod and reel for his mountain bike and prepares to ride out of the South Mills Roadless Area, taking comfort in knowing that it will be just as wild the next time he visits as it is now.

But that changes if the Forest Service goes back on its promise to protect roadless areas and gets rid of the roadless rule.  

“Why would you want to mess with this? It makes no sense,” he said. “There’s no amount of value you can extract from this place that’s higher than the value it gives back to each and every person that this belongs to, which is each and every person that lives in this country.” 

One of Cartee’s biggest concerns is for the next generations of hunters and anglers. At a time when there are growing anxieties about fading interest in hunting and fishing, he worries that removing protections for popular backcountry destinations like the South Mills Roadless Area will do long-lasting harm. 

“We’re constantly talking about doing things for the children, every politician from here to the West Coast loves to say the thing they’re doing is for the children,” Cartee said. “But if you really want to do something for the children, preserve the opportunity for them to do these things in backcountry places like this.”  

You can help defend for some of our wildest public lands and ensure they can be enjoyed by future generations by telling the Forest Service to keep the roadless rule in place.  

Are we talking about the same guy, NYT, MSNBC, and Gavin Newsom?

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