The Crumbling Foundations of Education: Why North Dakota’s School Bond Battles Matter
There’s something deeply unsettling about the fact that in 2024, we’re still debating whether schools should have accessible bathrooms or fire-safe classrooms. Yet, here we are, in North Dakota, where school districts are locked in a seemingly endless battle to secure funding for basic infrastructure. What makes this particularly fascinating is that it’s not just about bricks and mortar—it’s a reflection of our collective priorities, our willingness to invest in the future, and the growing disconnect between what communities say they value and what they’re actually willing to pay for.
The 60% Supermajority: A Barrier or a Safeguard?
Let’s start with the elephant in the room: the 60% supermajority rule. On paper, it sounds like a reasonable safeguard to ensure that tax increases aren’t imposed on a reluctant majority. But in practice, it’s become a near-impossible hurdle for school districts. Take the case of Will-Moore Elementary in Bismarck, a school nearing its 70th birthday. Principal Jill Vallejo is juggling students with disabilities, pregnant staff, and visiting family members—all in a building that hasn’t seen significant upgrades in decades. The bond measure that could have fixed this fell just short of the 60% threshold, despite 58.68% approval.
Personally, I think this rule is a relic of a different era. In a time when polarization is at an all-time high and voter turnout is unpredictable, requiring a supermajority for something as essential as school safety feels like overkill. What many people don’t realize is that this rule isn’t just delaying repairs—it’s putting students and staff at risk. A detail that I find especially interesting is how this rule disproportionately affects rural districts, where a handful of votes can make or break a bond measure. It’s not just about money; it’s about equity.
The Human Cost of Deferred Maintenance
What this really suggests is that we’re treating education infrastructure like a luxury, not a necessity. Consider Surrey Public Schools, where a $5.8 million bond measure failed by just five votes. The consequences? Portable classrooms are deteriorating, fire safety issues are rampant, and the state is threatening to shut down the building. Superintendent Steven Bucks called it a “dire situation,” and he’s not exaggerating. If you take a step back and think about it, we’re essentially gambling with the safety of children because we can’t agree on a tax increase.
From my perspective, this is where the conversation gets personal. I’ve visited schools like these—places where teachers are doing their best with what they have, but the system is failing them. It’s not just about the physical environment; it’s about the message we’re sending to students. When a school can’t pass a fire inspection, what does that say about our commitment to their well-being?
The Politics of Timing: A Game of Chance
One thing that immediately stands out is the role of timing in these bond measures. Recent changes to state law require school districts to hold bond elections during primary or general elections. While this might seem like a logistical fix, it’s actually a double-edged sword. On one hand, it increases visibility; on the other, it ties school funding to the whims of broader political cycles. BPS Superintendent Jeff Fastnacht noted that primary elections are dominated by voters over 65, who may not have a direct stake in school improvements.
This raises a deeper question: Should the fate of our schools be determined by the demographics of an election cycle? In my opinion, it’s a flawed system. Schools shouldn’t have to wait for the “right” election to get the funding they need. What this really suggests is that we’ve politicized something that should be fundamentally nonpartisan—the safety and education of our children.
The Broader Implications: A National Trend?
North Dakota isn’t alone in this struggle. Across the country, school bond measures are failing at alarming rates, often over relatively small tax increases. Over the past decade, nearly 60% of school bond votes in North Dakota have failed, with many missing the supermajority threshold by just a few percentage points. This isn’t just a local issue—it’s a symptom of a larger trend of underinvestment in public education.
What makes this particularly troubling is the psychological impact. When communities repeatedly reject school funding, it sends a message that education isn’t a priority. Personally, I think this is a dangerous precedent. If we’re not willing to invest in the physical spaces where learning happens, how can we expect to prepare students for the future?
The Path Forward: Communication and Compromise
So, what’s the solution? Superintendent Bucks hit the nail on the head when he said, “You have to communicate what the needs are.” It’s not enough to put a bond measure on the ballot and hope for the best. Districts need to engage with their communities, explain the stakes, and build trust. But it’s also on voters to recognize that these aren’t frivolous requests—they’re investments in our collective future.
In my opinion, we also need to rethink the supermajority rule. A simple majority should be enough to approve something as critical as school safety. If you take a step back and think about it, we don’t require a supermajority for other essential services like roads or emergency services. Why should schools be held to a different standard?
Final Thoughts: A Call to Action
As I reflect on this issue, I’m struck by the irony. We live in an age of unprecedented technological advancement, yet we can’t seem to agree on the basics—like ensuring schools are safe and accessible. This isn’t just a North Dakota problem; it’s a national wake-up call. If we continue to kick the can down the road, we’re not just failing our schools—we’re failing our children.
Personally, I think the time for half-measures is over. We need bold action, clear communication, and a renewed commitment to public education. Because at the end of the day, the crumbling foundations of our schools are a reflection of the values we uphold as a society. And right now, that reflection isn’t pretty.