The signs, which were hand-painted in the kind of neat lettering that suggests a parent who once worked in graphic design, were first placed on the lawns of a lush neighborhood outside of Cleveland. “Save Our Schools.” “Vote No on Cuts.” “Where Did the Money Go?” Cul-de-sacs from suburban New Jersey to the outer rings of Denver, Minneapolis, and Atlanta began to exhibit similar signs by spring. Though it’s still unclear if this is a movement or just the same old PTA energy with a sharper edge, there’s a feeling that something has changed.
For many years, urban districts—such as Detroit, Newark, and Philadelphia—were the focus of discussions about school funding because their budgets were always in danger of collapsing after a poor fiscal quarter. The safe havens were supposed to be the suburbs. Big lawns, big test scores, big bond issues that passed without much drama. At school board meetings, which used to end by 8 p.m. but now extend past midnight, that assumption is gradually coming apart.
With a hint of dark theatrical flair, educators refer to the trigger as the funding cliff. Beginning in 2020, federal pandemic relief totaling about $190 billion—nearly $4,000 per student—entered American schools. There’s not much left. Districts were free to spend it however they pleased, and many used it to fill staffing gaps that had been steadily growing for years, hire tutors, increase summer programming, and hire more counselors. The deadline has passed, the majority of the funds are now earmarked, and no new check is on its way. Texas A&M’s Lori Taylor put it succinctly when she said that districts were “weaned off” the funding, or “lost the cushion.”
Many, including some superintendents, were taken aback by how loudly the suburbs would react. While wealthier suburban districts frequently received slightly more than $1,000 per student, high-poverty urban districts received more than $6,000. Theoretically, therefore, the cliff ought to be kinder to the suburbs. However, that is where the protests have been concentrated. Enrollment is a contributing factor; birth rates are declining, families are relocating, some students are leaving charter schools, and per-pupil funding formulas do not allow for empty seats. Staffing costs are a contributing factor, as they continue to rise while state assistance remains unchanged. To be honest, part of the reason is that parents in the suburbs have the time, bandwidth, and email lists to organize.
It’s difficult to ignore the peculiar politics that are developing in areas where people don’t typically agree on much as this develops. The same group that pushed for mask mandates is seated next to the same group that opposed them, and they are both incensed about the same thing: a high school counselor overseeing 400 students, a music program being eliminated, and a cherished special education aide being let go. Districts that serve the most vulnerable students still have room to grow, according to a recent report from the Brookings Institution. That is accurate. However, the suburbs are realizing they were closer to the edge than they thought, and the perspective from that edge is altering the way many comfortable communities view taxes, public education, and what the term “essential” really means.
