I would like to make it so that education was a right, and not a

The words of Daphne Koller—“I would like to make it so that education was a right, and not a privilege.”—shine like a torch in the long struggle for justice and equality. In them we hear not merely the voice of an academic, but the cry of one who has seen how knowledge can lift the poor from despair, how it can empower the weak, and how it can free minds from the shackles of ignorance. Her vision is heroic and deeply human: that education, the very food of the soul, should not be rationed only to the wealthy, but shared as the birthright of every child, every woman, every man.

To call education a right is to place it among the essential foundations of human dignity, alongside life and liberty. Rights are not bestowed by wealth or class; they belong to all by virtue of being human. A privilege, however, is a gift extended only to some, withdrawn at will, and enjoyed by the few while denied to the many. Koller’s words unmask the injustice that still lingers in our world—that too often, learning is treated not as a sacred inheritance, but as a luxury reserved for those who can pay. She rejects this false order and proclaims a vision truer to the dignity of mankind.

History provides us many voices echoing the same truth. Consider Horace Mann, the great American reformer of the nineteenth century, who declared that education was “the great equalizer of the conditions of men.” In his time, schools were scarce, teachers undertrained, and the poor often excluded. Yet through his tireless work, public education began to spread, and with it, opportunities for millions. Mann’s legacy stands as a living testament to Koller’s words: that to make education a right, and not a privilege, is to strengthen the very foundations of a nation.

The struggle is not only ancient, but modern. In our age, digital platforms and online universities—efforts in which Daphne Koller herself played a role—have sought to carry knowledge beyond the gates of ivory towers. Through technology, courses that once cost thousands can be accessed freely by a villager with a single device. The door, once locked and guarded, is slowly being opened. Yet even now, disparities persist: millions still lack the access, the resources, the freedom to learn. Thus, her words remain not only a declaration but a call to continue the work.

The meaning of her vision reaches beyond classrooms and exams. If education is a right, then every soul has the chance to grow, to question, to create, to serve. A world where knowledge flows freely is a world where innovation thrives, where democracy deepens, where injustice withers before enlightened minds. But if education remains a privilege, then societies calcify: the rich entrench their power, the poor are silenced, and the great potential of humanity is stifled beneath the weight of inequality.

The lesson for us is clear. If you have been granted learning, do not hoard it, but share it. If you hold knowledge, do not wield it as a weapon of superiority, but as a gift to uplift. If you see injustice in access to schools, libraries, or digital tools, raise your voice. Support policies that expand opportunity, mentor those who are denied it, and remember always that true greatness is not in how much we know, but in how freely we spread what we know.

So, O seeker, take Koller’s words as a charge. Let it be your conviction that education must be a right, that no child’s mind should wither for lack of access, that no dream should die in the shadow of poverty. For when knowledge is free as sunlight, when wisdom is shared as water, then humanity will flourish as never before. And in that day, her vision will be fulfilled, and generations yet unborn will rise to bless those who fought to make learning the inheritance of all.