Financing uncertain; burdens on schools not

It’s a safe bet that, someday, there will be a documentary series about the effects of the COVID-19 pandemic on America’s schoolchildren.

Pop star Billie Eilish could provide sullen background music for the score. Actress Millie Bobby Brown might narrate with doomsday intensity.

Think of sepia-toned images of fourth graders staring at small screens on dining room tables while the family cat lounges a few feet away. Imagine an eighth grader throwing his hands up in frustration because the district’s football season took unnecessary hits. Picture high school seniors angry because they missed out on prom or had to get jobs loading groceries for online shoppers at the supermarket to help pad the family finances.

And after the social consequences of the pandemic are spelled out in detail, there will be a reckoning of the COVID slide, a calculation of how far a generation fell behind because they were allowed to, or forced to, stay home in attempts to curb the viral spread that claimed millions worldwide.

One doesn’t have to be at the head of the class to see that everything about our COVID school year has been weird. And, in Texas, districts aren’t sure what’s going to happen later this year — adding to the uncertainty.

Remote learning has created a wrinkle in how the state funds school districts. Funding is determined by daily attendance, but remote learning makes calculating those numbers more complicated than in the past. Does a district get credit for students who log on to the school’s portal long enough to get assignments, or do they have to be logged in for hours? Does a district lose funding for a student who doesn’t have the technology to log in at the same time every day? What if a student has to share a computer with siblings? And is any of this fair to in-class students who are counted absent if they are a few minutes late?

Last week, San Antonio Express-News writer Andres Picon reported that even as vaccines are making their way across the country, area superintendents don’t know what to expect for the 2021-22 school year. Last fall, the Texas Education Agency decided not to change the funding going to Texas schools despite the decline in student enrollment because of the virus. That decision, however, was temporary; if the TEA changes its tune, that could mean millions of dollars in lost revenue for school districts.

Millions of dollars translates into teaching and staff positions. It could mean the difference between having a particular team sport or doing without. It could mean field trips, programs that bring guests to the school or special events. Depending on the district, these potential cuts could have ripple effects for every student. Stretching the budget also takes a toll on educators, who are already having to spin extra plates of meeting the needs of students both on campus and online.

Picon wrote that Texas Education Commissioner Mike Morath has indicated the future of school finance is in the hands of the Legislature, because freezing funding was meant to be temporary. In a narrow view, this makes sense, considering nobody expects the “new normal” to be the forever normal. And it’s not just a matter of shoring up a few extra apples for teachers; school funding doesn’t grow on trees.

But it’s unfair to expect students and educators to bear all the changes without a lot of hustle on the part of state officials and the Legislature.

The clock is ticking. This show is too important to leave the finances up in the air.