Betsy DeVos, the new education secretary, knows less about public schools than I know about grizzly bears. And I know nothing about grizzly bears.

I do, however, know a lot about public schools, having attended them from pre-kindergarten through 12th grade in Queens, N.Y., where I grew up. Until I went to college, every one of my schools was within walking distance of my house. To this day, no experience had a greater influence on how I interact with the world than my years in public school.

Of course, DeVos, a billionaire, can’t appreciate this, since she never attended public schools, nor did any of her children. Cushioned by the money and privilege that allowed her to live a cloistered life among people exactly like herself, DeVos went to private school. She does not understand the intrinsic value of public schools, not only to students, but to their communities as well. If she did, she would have promised, during her contentious confirmation hearing, to maintain public school funding. When directly asked that question, DeVos, an ardent supporter of charter schools and voucher programs, would not make that pledge.

It’s galling that DeVos looks at the public schools as something to be gutted and turned into a profit-making venture for the rich. She would do well to understand why public schools have persevered — and why they must remain a vital option for parents and students.

Because my elementary, junior high, and high school were all in or near my neighborhood, attending public school deepened my sense of community. I occasionally took public transportation, but mostly walked to school with my friends. That’s how I got to know my neighborhood, and how I became invested in it. Owners in shops where we’d buy a doughnut or juice on the way to school watched out for us. Eventually, they got to know our parents as well, giving them an extra set of eyes and ears tuned toward any misbehavior. It was the proverbial village that raised its children.

These were the same kids who attended my church and dance class, jumped rope near the front stoop, or hung out at the local playground. Some of them I met in pre-kindergarten, when our half-days consisted mostly of naps, sing-alongs, and story time. Years later, when we were browsing college brochures, dating, and taking driver ed, many of us were still friends.

Just as important was the diversity of my schools. I grew up on a predominantly African-American block, but in school I quickly understood that the world was filled with races, ethnicities, and religions different that my own. It better prepared me for the not always easy realities of college and beyond. In retrospect, my school was like a cultural exchange program. Guillermo, from Puerto Rico, taught me to salsa dance. Maureen’s parents, born in Cork County, Ireland, introduced me to corned beef at their St. Patrick’s Day gathering. Allison’s great-grandmother, who adored the game of checkers, was a concentration camp survivor. One day, when we asked her about the blurry numbers on her pale skin, she spoke at length about what they meant. This was years before we would study the Holocaust.

Our classes were rigorous, and the expectations of our teachers were high, usually higher than those we held for ourselves. I was taught the words of Gwendolyn Brooks, Langston Hughes, and William Shakespeare. I learned to read music and play the trumpet and viola. I ran track and played softball on the boys’ team. And an English teacher, whom I didn’t especially like, was the first to encourage me to “write often,’’ two words that changed my life. My teachers took us on class trips to the United Nations and the American Museum of Natural History. We saw operas at the Brooklyn Academy of Music and learned to ski in upstate New York. I cannot imagine having had a better educational experience than the one I received in public school.

I don’t doubt that there are public schools that are failing. Buildings are in disrepair, teachers are underpaid, and some students don’t have the tools needed to succeed. Yet the cure isn’t to strangle off funding to hasten their demise. In recent years, bashing public schools has become a dour pastime, especially for Republicans. Now the fate of the nation’s students, 90 percent of whom attend public schools, rests in the uncertain hands of a woman who has called the current public education system “a dead end.’’

The bell has sounded, and class is in session. Time for DeVos to study well, do her homework, and discover why this nation will only be as great as its public schools.

Renée Graham can be reached at renee.graham@globe.com. Follow her on Twitter @reneeygraham