Kansas City Schools: Where’s the Hope?

Now, it can be told.

With this month’s Kansas City school district bond issue vote in the history books, it’s time for one disgruntled taxpayer to sound off.

No, I wasn’t part of the electoral majority that signed off on the $680 million measure. My youngest is getting out of high school in a few weeks, so I’m officially exiting the K-12 give-a-damn business. I’m leaving it to the people who are politely called “stakeholders” to figure out how to turn that coming debacle around.

As a prerequisite for any debate, though, I refer any thoughtful reader to the now-legendary Cato Institute takedown of the district’s financial road to hell during the horrific era of the desegregation lawsuit. Remember that oldie but goodie from the 1970s, ’80s and ’90s? The case that infused the district with $2 billion—a lot of money in those days—to build new schools, create state-of-the-art learning environments, and upgrade technology and equipment. Hailed nationwide by the policy elites as a corrective to the ills of urban education.

And almost all of it, predictably, went right down the crapper. Doubt me? Google up that Cato treatise under the byline of Paul Ciotti. If you haven’t read it before, prepare to be sickened.

As far as this vote goes and what it portends for kids, for the city, and for the business community, I’ll continue to care about the job readiness—world-readiness, really—of each new cohort of 18-year-olds. But I’ll sit out discussions about the direction of inner Kansas City’s public schools for the duration.

There are good reasons for that. First, my vote wasn’t going to make or break the outcome. In a low-turnout environment, those closest to the public school grift will always have the numbers to get their way. So I’ll bite the bullet and come up with the additional $250 a year in property taxes. Consider that the price for my indifference.

Second, it was just too discouraging to think about how we’re going to shovel vast sums into “deferred maintenance” and new buildings for a district that, in terms of academic performance, long ago surrendered its claim to have an educational mission. A fresh tranche of evidence supporting this arrived last spring when the state released composite ACT stores for Missouri.

In Kansas City schools, that figure was a robust 16.2. That’s down nearly a full point from the previous year, which itself was down a tick from 2022. Have to give the district full marks for consistency, though: It’s carrying on a proud tradition decades in the making.

The upside? The gap between Kansas City’s performance and the statewide average is closing! Statewide, students averaged a disappointing 19.8 for the second straight year. As recently as 2022, Missouri kids were outperforming national averages by more than 2 percentage points. No longer. Now, we’re tied. In terms of high school academics, the Show-Me State is becoming the Show-Meh State.

The sad part of this is that spending in the Kansas City district already matches, even exceeds, per-pupil costs at some of this market’s elite private schools. Addressing that fiscal failure in this space a few years ago, I got an earful—screenful, I guess—accusing me (naturally) of being racist. Predictably, it came from one of those white-guilt, professional-services liberals who hide behind their student’s enrollment at Lincoln College Prep (four-year graduation rate: 99.46 percent) to virtue-signal their “commitment” to public education.

Just once, I’d like to hear that same argument from someone who sends their kid to Central (four-year rate: 79.6).

But I digress. Does anyone really think that tossing north of half a billion dollars at these schools will remedy the dismal outcomes? Really? Check back with me when this year’s kindergarteners are high school seniors (assuming my ashes aren’t already blowing in the wind by then).

Look, Ingram’s has covered this issue extensively with its commentary for 30 years. As a city, we know what the problem is, and yet we continue to avert our eyes. It’s this: We don’t have home-life structures that prepare kids for their first day of school or nurture their studies through graduation. We don’t have a school problem; we have a social problem.

No need to cover all that ground again. And from this homeowner’s perspective, no need to keep supporting it at the ballot box.

So to the Class of 2024, and all those that will follow, I can only say: Good luck out there.

You’re going to need it.