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Welcome to the VORTEX
Andra Belknap | First Published March 24, 2023 to OLO | updated March 28
Taylor’s comments came as her school board colleagues voted to keep each of Ojai’s five elementary schools open. Following the Board’s 4-1 vote (Taylor’s was the lone vote in opposition; she declined to run for reelection later that year), then-OUSD Superintendent Hank Banger declared, “the issue is being put to rest by this Board.” He retired the next year.
Most observers agree that OUSD’s financial predicament is one that moved at a gentle pace for decades; declining enrollment and the associated decline in state funding* was a truth any close observer could recognize (OUSD enrollment has steadily declined for more than two decades). However, the pace was slow enough that it could be ignored in favor of other, faster-moving catastrophes — the pandemic, for example.¹ Until it wasn’t.
¹ Morse maintains that OUSD staff identified approximately $3M in budget cuts in May 2020, but they were not implemented due to an influx of COVID money from the state and federal government. She later stated to the board in June 2020, “As you know, the $3.3 million of cuts just wasn’t doable. Even in our best plans, we couldn’t quite reach that cut.”
I’ve written before that the story of the Ojai Unified School District (OUSD) is one of declining enrollment. In fact, that’s the story of America’s public schools — and the pandemic made matters worse. According to Mike Fine, the CEO of the state’s Fiscal Crisis and Management Assistance Team (FCMAT) (remember — he’s the guy who encouraged the Board to “stop foolin’” around”), 60% of California school districts faced declining enrollment prior to the pandemic. In 2021, all but one of California’s 58 counties saw declining public school enrollment. That’s important because much of California’s public school funding is determined by “average daily attendance” — the average amount of students who show up to class each day. To put that in context, OUSD’s total revenue (or, incoming cash) during the 2021-2022 school year was approximately $31 million. About $23 million of that came from the state via a complex funding formula that is based on attendance. During the 21-22 school year, OUSD served 2,240 students, meaning the state provided approximately $10,000 per student. To put it mildly: public school finance is wildly complex.
Jim Bailey, Director of Ojai’s Rock Tree Sky, which provides educational services at Ojai’s Summit School (more on that later), helped me understand how declining enrollment creates a tremendous budgetary imbalance. Bailey used the example of a classroom with 30 students. Those 30 students, by enrolling, bring the district (approximately) $300,000 in state funding. Now imagine those 30 students disappear. Laying off the teacher of those 30 students yields, at most, $100,000 in savings.
(That number includes benefits and retirement costs; the average teacher salary in OUSD is $75,000 annually, according to a district source.²) The absence of those 30 students, even after laying off their teacher, still leaves a $200,000 hole in the budget.
So, what’s driving declining enrollment across our state? According to CalMatters, California’s disappearing population of public school students is the result of a set of demographic changes, “such as virtually no growth, or even a decline, in the state’s overall population, lower birthrates and an outflow of people, including children, to other states.”
Before the audience starts shouting at me (I can hear you thinking), private and charter schools are also factors, as are rising numbers of homeschooled students. In total, California’s public schools shed more than 270,000 students during the pandemic. From 2019 to 2022, OUSD’s enrollment decreased by 128 students (about 5%). On top of that, a district source confirmed to me that OUSD expects enrollment to decline by another 5% or so in the coming school year in direct response to the ongoing fiscal crisis.
What’s clear is that California schools, both public and private, are competing for a shrinking population of students. However, Mike Fine doesn’t accept this argument as reason for OUSD’s financial straits, “you’ve been declining for some time without dealing with it,” he told the board in February.
² OUSD teacher salaries range from $46,000 (first-year teacher with a bachelor’s degree) to just over $90,000 (a teacher with heightened management responsibilities and 30 years of experience).
There are two basic ways to address a budget deficit: cut costs (i.e., cut staff and consolidate schools) or raise revenue (increase the school population, increase taxes, or monetize existing assets). The Board has evaluated all of these options, and both conversations have proved painful.
Let’s go back to 2016. Taylor’s comments about school closure followed the recommendations of an OUSD subcommittee known as a “7-11 committee.” The state advises that districts considering school consolidation appoint an advisory board of seven to eleven community members to fully explore the issue — hence the name. OUSD’s school board has created three such committees over the past ten years. But the one Taylor and her fellow board members responded to ran from 2015-2016. After initially voting in favor of closing Meiners Oaks Elementary School (the only OUSD elementary school population in which more than 50% of students qualify for free or reduced-price school meals — a widely used measure of poverty), the body quickly reversed course due to public outcry.
Ultimately, the 7-11 committee recommended the Board close no schools and instead investigate opportunities to monetize its downtown property — 414 E. Ojai Avenue — the current home of Chaparral High School,³ A Place to Grow Preschool, and OUSD offices. In their final report to the school board, a minority of the 7-11 committee expressed that the district was making a mistake by not taking action to cut costs and consolidate.
³ OUSD renamed “Chaparral” as “Legacy High School” during the 22-23 school year. Which is funny since they very recently tried to get rid of it. Given that I wouldn’t know where “Legacy High” is located if asked, I decided against using the name here.
In retrospect, Glenn Fout’s comments in the group’s final report are particularly prescient:
Ultimately, the Board followed the majority’s recommendation, voted unanimously to declare their Chaparral property “surplus,” and stated their intention to lease the lucrative land, thereby beginning a years-long legal process. Simultaneously, OUSD leadership was in flux. Two years after Bangser’s departure, his successor, Andy Cantwell, did the same. Importantly, Cantwell served as both superintendent and chief business officer (CBO) for the district (he holds an MBA and a law degree). Dr. Tiffany Morse (who holds a doctorate in curriculum and instruction) got the superintendent job in April 2019. Her starting salary — $180,000 — was the lowest in the county at the time (by $50,000). Notably, Morse’s tenure was marked by long periods of CBO absence. (Oh, did I mention she’s no longer superintendent?) Morse was dismissed (without cause) from her role on March 13th by a unanimous vote of the school board. She received a $188,000 payout upon her exit. The amount is eyebrow-raising but not unprecedented for a municipal leader on the outs. On the heels of Morse’s exit, the board voted 3-2 on March 22nd to appoint Penelope DeLeon, former superintendent for Glendora Unified School District and Oxnard Union High School District, as OUSD’s Interim Superintendent. Four days after her appointment, DeLeon withdrew from the position.⁴ In the wake of DeLeon’s resignation, Board President Rebecca Chandler and Board Vice President Shelly Griffen abruptly resigned their positions on the school board (both voted to appoint DeLeon, as did newly elected trustee Phil Moncharsch). Now, Atticus Reyes, Jim Halverson, and Moncharsh — all elected in November — not only compose a board majority, they’re the entire board. But that’s an entirely different story than the one I want to focus on today. (See why I split this thing into parts?)
⁴ Why? The Ojai Valley News published a statement from former Board President Chandler, which read in part, “once it became clear that there was a 3-2 vote, and after spending the last few days evaluating the issues at hand, she determined that it would be virtually impossible to overcome the significant challenges of the district without the full community support denoted by a 5-0 vote.” I have to imagine that this legal history (though the suit was dismissed) was another factor, alongside political pressure from local group Save Ojai Public Schools.
Ok — back to the effort to lease Chaparral. In my opinion, this years-long effort played an important political function for the school board: it provided political cover. When asked about how they’re responding to declining enrollment or OUSD’s pitifully low school salaries, board members could point to the surplus-ing of Chaparral. However, once the community caught wind of a proposal to transform the property into a hotel (the plan also included housing and office space), they flipped out. (Was anyone surprised by this?) I explored this fracas in detail in a 2021 piece for VORTEX. By early 2022, the school board terminated its relationship with their developer of choice. By that November, they received the first in a series of critical communications from the Ventura County Office of Education (VCOE): “Surprise, you’re in the red!” (I’m paraphrasing.)
To be clear, the Board explored (and implemented) other revenue-raising measures while they pursued a lucrative development agreement at Chaparral. In 2014 and 2020, Ojai Valley voters approved two OUSD bond measures (Measures J and K), effectively serving as an $80 million line of credit to upgrade OUSD’s aging facilities. Importantly, these funds can only be used on school construction projects — like roof repair, painting, playground improvements, HVAC repair, etc. As of November 2022, the district has spent 41.6 million of those funds, including nearly $10 million, at Matilija Middle School⁵ — a campus that will house zero students in the coming school year.
⁵ Matilija Junior High School was transformed to Matilija Middle School in 2019, after the board decided to move sixth graders to the middle school in order to preserve programming amidst declining enrollment — the same reason they’re now moving 7th and 8th graders to Nordhoff. Again, more on that in the next part of this series.
The other way school districts can raise revenue is with a parcel tax — a flat tax paid by local property owners. It was last on the ballot in 2008 and failed by less than a percentage point. (Heartbreaking, truly.)
So, in early 2022, the board commissioned a study on Ojai Valley residents’ openness to a parcel tax. Unlike a bond, parcel tax revenue can go toward teacher salaries and school programming — it’s the kind of revenue OUSD could really use right now. However, parcel taxes are far more difficult to pass than school bonds — a bond requires 55% of the vote, while a parcel tax requires a ⅔ majority (66.67%). OUSD consultant Jon Isom found that Ojai residents were broadly supportive of such a tax — about 64%.
Ultimately, the board declined to put the matter on the 2022 ballot due to concerns about inflation and voter turnout. I can confirm that it would have taken a serious campaign to win a ⅔ majority. Still, it was probably their last best chance to pass such a tax — public confidence in OUSD has certainly taken a nosedive.
By looking to the past, the basic question I’ve tried to disentangle is this: was it declining enrollment that got us here? Or financial mismanagement? To me, the answer is both.
And as I’ve studied this crisis and listened to the discussion of culpability and punishment, I’ve thought a lot about the role of an elected representative in a democracy. Do we expect our school board representatives to do exactly as we say? Or do we expect them to study the issue and do what they judge to be right? The answer changes depending on how much you trust the representative in this scenario — at a moment when Americans’ trust in their government is at near-historic lows.
I bring this up because you really can’t say the board didn’t do anything to address our funding shortfall. They followed the best practices guide. And at every moment school consolidation came to a decision point, tearful OUSD children and families showed up to plead for their schools. And for a while, they won.⁶ Meanwhile, no single board member stepped up to make a positive case for school consolidation — and that type of leadership, in my view, is the only way we could have avoided this mess. Remember: the only board representative who felt empowered to vote in favor of school consolidation was the one who was not running for reelection.
⁶ I write this with empathy and understanding — I spent my childhood in OUSD schools.
The board and OUSD leadership collectively procrastinated until literally ordered to address the district’s financial shortfall, thereby delegating this odious task to a board of three newly elected members — whom I’m confident don’t understand the ins and outs of school finance.⁷ It’s an absurd situation, really. But then again, I’ve been around government and politics to know that this is how it always happens. Delayed political action is a norm in this country, and the specifics are usually absurd.
For those of you who are still with me: thank you. I know that was a lot. In the next part of this series, I’ll move into the present — which schools are closing, which positions are being laid off, why, what the 23-24 school year will look like for students, and whatever drama occurs in the interim.
⁷ Because it’s impossible to get up to speed so quickly. Look at this thing!
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to include this week’s resignations.