Something is subtly noticeable when you drive through Darien, Connecticut on a Tuesday morning. The parking lots at the school are packed. The fields are kept up to date. The lighting in the hallways, the teacher-to-student ratio, and the guidance counselor’s genuine time to sit down with a sophomore and discuss college all have a certain laid-back vibe to them. Every year, Darien spends about $15,400 on each student. About $10,500 is the national average. That figure falls short of $8,000 in some rural Kentucky districts.
There has always been a gap. The rate at which it is expanding and the degree to which it is being permitted to occur covertly are what are changing.
America’s poorer school districts are facing serious structural pressures that are, for the most part, getting worse. In many rural and urban areas, enrollment is declining. The number of births has decreased. Immigration, which has historically stabilized enrollment levels, has drastically decreased. Families who have the option frequently relocate to charter schools or the suburbs. Per-pupil funding also declines as enrollment declines. Districts lose people, but their buildings, employee contracts, and responsibilities remain intact.
Meanwhile, costs continue to rise. Step increases incorporated into union contracts cause teacher pay scales to automatically increase. Benefits keep up with inflation. A thirty-year-old boiler that has been neglected doesn’t wait for an affordable year. In a recent meeting hosted by the Center for Reinventing Public Education, a superintendent allegedly stated, “You start with the painless solutions… and after a year or two… now you’re into painful cuts.” The fact that this discussion was taking place in private is noteworthy. Many of these same leaders continued to project confidence in public.
One of the most damaging aspects of American education at the moment is the disparity between public assurance and private concern. Parents fill the void left by district leaders’ lack of transparency about the financial situation by assuming that waste, poor management, or both are to blame. The true picture is too complicated and difficult to convey, with structural deficits accumulated over decades, demographic changes that aren’t reversing, and federal funding that might not come back. Thus, it is not communicated. The public is kept in the dark, and the trust required to make difficult decisions is lacking.
This issue does not exist in wealthy neighborhoods. They are not required to. Local property taxes provide a buffer against the fluctuations that wreak havoc on poorer communities in areas where median household incomes can surpass $200,000, while the national median is closer to $52,000. Every year, the Edgemont school district in New York spends more than $25,000 on each student. Almost all of the nation’s wealthiest neighborhoods are located in the commuter suburbs of a few large cities, especially those near New York. U.S. News and World Report and other national rankings frequently list their high schools. There is a high graduation rate. Acceptance rates to colleges are high. The feedback loop is self-reinforcing.
The democratic ramifications of all this are difficult to ignore. It was always intended that public schools would provide children from diverse backgrounds with a roughly equal opportunity. Although that premise has always been flawed, it was strong enough to serve as the foundation for policy. The current situation seems to be more than just a flaw. Rich districts are becoming more self-sufficient, poorer districts are becoming more reliant on uncertain federal and state funding, and states themselves are too strapped by the demands of infrastructure and healthcare to close the gap. This seems to be a structural divergence.
In one version of this tale, political will and truthful accounting could start to change the course. Districts may be able to garner the public support required for challenging decisions if they compute actual numbers rather than optimistic projections padded with federal revenue that might not materialize and share them with communities in an open manner. It is feasible. According to some researchers, budget talks consistently overlook the underutilized lever of transparency.
However, that conversation isn’t taking place in most places at the moment. The affluent suburbs don’t require it to take place. The districts that are struggling are too scared to begin it. The kids in the classrooms in between, in the districts that aren’t in collapse but also aren’t flush, are the ones for whom the outcome is still most genuinely uncertain. The question of whether the gap is reversible is probably no longer relevant. The true question is whether anyone in a position of authority is prepared to publicly acknowledge how far it has already gone.
