When rain pelts the lone schoolhouse in Rudyard, Mich., teachers at the Upper Peninsula facility launch into a hurried version of musical chairs, hastily re-arranging students’ desks to dodge abundant leaks. At the same time, students are left to paint over nasty brown water stains that dot the school’s ceiling tiles.

At Hamtramck’s Holbrook School, teachers cover busted lockers with brightly colored posters and paper while trying mightily—though often failing—to avoid stumbling over the broken tiles scattered across the school floor like road potholes.

In the City of Muskegon, 100-year-old plaster covering the public high school’s walls has never been replaced, often flaking off in buckets and aggravating the lungs of asthmatic and non-asthmatic students alike. Each winter day, aging boilers struggle to belch heat through a labyrinth of old pipes and into buildings far too big for the shrinking student populations they hold.

And in Beecher, a small unincorporated community outside of Flint, high-school students cram into classrooms in bunches of 30, even though the school's total enrollment is fewer than 250. But 250 students seem like more than enough when Beecher High has only five drinking fountains in the entire school—and no air conditioning at all.

As distinct as these districts are from one another—whether in the rural expanse of the UP or the tiny town of Sodus or the hard-scrabble urban enclaves dotting southeast Michigan—the problems that confront their facilities are disturbingly similar. And these problems also are far more common to many other districts around the state than most Michiganders might believe.

From the Straits of Mackinac to the shores of Lake Michigan to the dividing lines around Detroit, cash-strapped school districts statewide find themselves in an unending (and often intensifying) struggle to raise the money necessary to cover the single largest expense that any district faces—capital expenditures.

Unlike “operations” costs, which pay for learning materials—books and academic tools from desktop computers to teacher salaries—capital-improvement outlays pay for the building, expansion and major upkeep of the school facilities. But unlike operations costs, which are paid for by the state, the capital expenditures are the sole responsibility of individual districts.

And they also are a big reason why many poor districts struggle.

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As this photo essay produced by the ACLU of Michigan reveals, Michigan’s current capex funding scheme—or more precisely, the state's lack of a fair and sensible plan—has resulted in stark and disheartening disparities in the quality of facilities between tax-rich districts and their poorer counterparts, even among those that sit only a few miles apart.

Looking at five tax-poor districts around the state—ranked according to their taxable value per pupil as of 2013 (the most recent year for which the figures were available)--we found teachers, administrators, students and entire communities engaged in a valiant battle to save their school properties from the ravages of time and dire demographic shifts. But no matter how noble their cause, it’s clearly an uphill fight.

Public-school districts in wealthy communities such as Birmingham and Harbor Springs boast cutting-edge arts facilities, robotics labs and Olympic-sized swimming pools, the byproduct of higher revenues from their local tax bases. All the while, districts like Beecher and Hamtramck struggle just to keep the walls from crumbling around them inside facilities that are increasingly too old or too ill-fitting to effectively serve the districts’ needs.

Consider also that, according to the list, many districts with high taxable values per pupil contain expensive vacation homes along the state’s waterfronts, most of which belong to part-time, seasonal residents. In fact, 17 of the 21 public-school districts with a per-pupil taxable value of more than $1 million include waterfront properties on one of the Great Lakes. (Three of those that don’t—in the affluent communities of Bloomfield Hills, Birmingham and Ann Arbor—rank a mere 51st, 56th and 74th, respectively, in taxable value per pupil.)

Furthermore, these top 21 school districts have a taxable value of more than $4 billion combined, although only seven of them have student populations that exceed 100 students and none have student bodies larger than 1,000 kids. This means that, because tax dollars for capital improvements are limited to the districts where they originate—rather than being distributed across districts—Michigan’s 21 most-affluent districts serve only 3,500 of the more than 1.5 million students in public-school districts statewide.

This underscores the need to re-consider how Michigan funds capital improvements in its school districts. A formula that allows for a more equitable, statewide allotment of this money would certainly provide a financial boost for poorer districts, many of which serve student populations thousands of times larger than the most tax-rich districts.

The five schools that this series highlights are amongst the lowest-ranking on the list of taxable values per pupil. Hamtramck Schools, for example, can yield less than $60,000 per pupil even though it services 3,100 students—or nearly the same amount as all 21 of the top districts combined.

Districts without the local tax base to support capital expenditures—usually districts with large concentrations of low-income families, declining populations or an outsize number of low-tax properties—are forced to turn to hasty stopgap measures or dip into instructional expenses in lieu of sorely needed money to keep the buildings safe and standing.

School districts have two main options when it comes to capital expenditures like major building projects or purchases, renovations and large-scale repairs: bonds or sinking funds. In the case of a bond, the local school district asks local voters to tax themselves in order for the district to borrow money, which comes with attendant debt-service costs. When a district opts to propose a sinking fund, it asks the local voters to tax themselves so that the money can go directly to the district, with no debt-service costs.

In neither instance, though, does the state provide matching funds.

This has forced many districts to make tough decisions, not just about what fixes to make first on a building but also about whether they can afford to make fixes at all. In 2005, for example, a study by the Education Policy Center at Michigan State University and the Citizens Research Council of Michigan estimated that unmet capital needs in Michigan public schools approached $8.7 billion. The problem has only worsened since then.

Admittedly, raising money for school improvement is often a daunting task, no matter how flush the district or expensive the real estate. But state non-involvement only makes the problem that much more burdensome—and in some cases, virtually unsolvable—for districts without the population or the property values to fund a new playgrounds or the expansion of the auditorium or the improvements necessary even to comply with state handicap codes.

For Andres Velez, superintendent, principal and maintenance director of the one-building Sodus #5 District, the challenge of keeping schools up to building codes (not to mention academic standards) illuminates quite clearly what he considers the only real solution to the funding woes.

“The way school buildings are funded is all individual,” he laments. “At the same time, all regulations are universal. So if you are going to make building regulations universal, funding should be universal, too.”

The chemistry lab at Rudyard Area Schools.

The chemistry lab at Rudyard Area Schools

The gymnasium at Nelson Elementary, a PreK-5 school in Muskegon that was erected in 1929 and currently houses around 330 students.

The gymnasium at Nelson Elementary, a PreK-5 school in Muskegon that was erected in 1929 and currently houses around 330 students

One of many outdated auditoriums in buildings throughout the Hamtramck public-school district.

One of many outdated auditoriums in buildings throughout the Hamtramck public-school district.

One of many outdated auditoriums in buildings throughout the Hamtramck public-school district.

Side-by-side photos offer stark contrasts between the auditoriums at Hamtramck (left) and Birmingham Groves high schools.


A modest sports "Wall of Fame" decorates the hallway at the lone schoolhouse in Rudyard.

 

 

 

Click here to read about Beecher schools

Click here to read about Hamtramck schools

Click here to read about Muskegon schools

Click here to read about Rudyard schools

Click here to read about Sodus schools

Date

Wednesday, October 21, 2015 - 4:45pm

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Gaping sinkholes such as this one outside the J Building of Muskegon High constitute the sort of overlooked capital repairs that many tax-poor districts cannot afford to make.

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On rainy days, the roof that covers the lone building that makes up Rudyard Area Schools might as well be a sieve.

Water pours through so heavily that teachers must constantly re-arrange desks around the leaky areas, wet floors severely limiting the number of seat-configurations they can arrange for group work. One elementary teacher says her classroom is so water-logged that she describes it as “six-bucket” room, after the number of containers she has to set down to catch all the invasive rainwater.  Bill Goetz, another elementary instructor, says the leaks are so bad that tending to them eats into instructional time.

“I have to mop the floor every 15 minutes,” he explains.  

And not only does this building house all of the more than 700 K-12 students in the district, but it also contains the district’s administrative offices.

Still, for all the building’s importance to the district, it continues to fall apart—and there’s little to nothing that administrators in the district can do about it.

Ranking 446 out of 548 districts in total taxable value per pupil, Rudyard offers a sad yet striking example of how the state’s restrictive rules on capital-improvement expenditures have left school districts throughout Michigan struggling to stay above water.

And in the case of the rain-wracked Rudyard district, this struggle can be as literal as it is figurative.

Landlocked

Rudyard’s struggles are due partly to the sparse population of Rudyard Township (1,370 people, according to the 2010 U.S.. Census), partly to the district’s geographic location. With virtually no access to the abundant tax dollars generated by the scores of waterfront property that sit near—but not within—the district, Rudyard lacks the ability to make the sort of capital improvements other districts take for granted.

“We’re landlocked,” says Goetz. “We have all these districts around us who have tax bases with second homes on their beach front.”

Geography means Rudyard struggles to raise money to maintain its facilities. Voters have shot down the two most recent bond measures. But even if the district could lobby the local tax base successfully to pass a bond or a sinking fund, it would still be taxing a community where the median home value is barely above $90,000. In the Upper Peninsula, this predicament is typical for areas without shoreline properties,

Quite the opposite is true for areas where plush vacation homes and resorts line the Great Lakes’ waterfronts. Because second homes carry no property-tax exemptions, those residences can act like a fiscal steroid for the districts fortunate enough to contain them. (Primary residences carry some exemptions for property taxes, namely for school operations millages.)

Consider the city of Harbor Springs, which is about a 90-minute drive south of Rudyard. Set atop sweeping cliffs that overlook Lake Michigan, in close proximity to destinations such as Traverse City and Petoskey, Harbor Springs educates roughly the same number of students as Rudyard—about 800.

Harbor Springs, however, boasts two elementary schools, one middle school and one high school, all newly renovated, and all housed in separate buildings, compared to Rudyard’s single building. In 2014, the average sale price for a Harbor Springs home was $251,597, compared to $282,791 in 2012. The median price was $189,000, compared to $202,500 in 2012. Meanwhile, beachfront homes are valued at prices ranging from $150,000 for tiny cabins to $4.5 million for sprawling five-bedroom manses.

That’s a sizeable property-tax boon for the Harbor Springs district.

Rudyard Area Schools, meanwhile, last successfully passed a bond in 1998. With that $5.75 million loan, the school was able to remodel its media center. A bright new wing with windows that overlook green pastures of the Upper Peninsula functions as both the K-12 and the public library. The district now splits library expenses with a separate public library fund, also supported by local property taxes.

In 1998, the school was also able to remodel its high school gym, although the coaches fear that the high school locker room will not meet the health department’s standards upon its next inspection. In 2014, Rudyard attempted to pass another bond but both initiatives failed. Superintendent Mark Pavloski says the district will keep trying.

The district has tried not to let its substandard facilities compromise education. The district ranks 61 out of 705 schools on the Mackinac Center’s Context and Performance Database. But those academic achievements come against the backdrop of a district struggling to keep heat pumping.

For instance, in the frigid winters of the Upper Peninsula, heating costs that could be mitigated with capital improvements—the windows still retain glass from the 1960s—continue to dent the district’s budget. “Costs to heat a building were a lot less back in ‘60s, so we could get away with the glass we still have,” says Superintendent Pavloski.

However, Pavloski will be the first to tell anyone that sub-par facilities are not necessarily caused by poor fiscal management. Rather, many poorer districts have less money to put towards facilities projects, which means less flexibility. “Walk a mile in my shoes,” says Pavloski.

Or worse, drive that mile. Transportation, another area covered as a capital cost, is also an issue for Rudyard. Buses are especially valuable because the rural district encompasses the 20th largest area of any Michigan school district—more than 350 square miles. Offering transportation is imperative to retaining students who might otherwise choose to go to schools outside of their own district to schools that are probably equidistant to their homes.

Being a large district also means that its buses get more use than they get in other districts. The school’s Transportation Director, Brad Dumback recalls when a bus broke down early in its route from Trout Lake, over 50 miles away from the school. He had to drive another bus out to the students, while they waited in sub-zero cold for more than an hour. If a bond passes, the district will stock up on more new buses.

Across the state of Michigan, grants for school transportation are scarce. A handful of state and federal grants are available for safe routes to school, taking trips to art museums, bus driver training and making buses energy efficient. But no program seems to fit the Rudyard district's need to sustain a transportation fleet. In 2011, the district eliminated some of its bus routes across the district, but its board members voted not to abolish its program all together.

The rising costs of fuel could be mitigated by purchasing newer, energy efficient buses, but currently, the district doesn't’t have funds to do so.

Dumback keeps older buses around just in case of an emergency, when he may need to “scrap” an old bus to find a usable part. But to the district’s dismay, parts for the district’s newer buses rarely match those from older buses, so the school tries its best to allocate a reasonable amount towards transportation each year.

But if the district, which currently allocates more than $500,000 per year from its general fund to transportation expense, wants to purchase an $80,000 school bus it has to take more money from the general fund and cut elsewhere.

Pavloski sums up the budgetary gymnastics this way:  “It’s a shell game.”

 

Click here to go to the main photo essay page

Click here to read about Beecher

Click here to read about Hamtramck

Click here to read about Muskegon

Click here to read about Sodus

Date

Wednesday, October 21, 2015 - 3:00am

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This 15-page publication includes numerous free-speech cases the ACLU has worked on. 

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Tuesday, September 16, 2003 - 3:00am

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