What do we do with the power we have?

What do we do with the power we have? For the past week or so, that phrase has been on repeat in my mind. It interrupts my mind-clearing walks and disrupts my focus in meetings. It’s everywhere, always. I can’t stop hearing it. And every day it gets a little louder.

What do we do with the power we have?

It’s hard to believe but it’s been seven weeks since the release of the investigative report about Dr. Scarlett’s spending and hiring practices as well as the subsequent revelation of rampant credit card spending across the district. Fifteen weeks since Dr. Scarlett’s employment hearing upheld her termination. Six months since she was initially placed on leave amid a media frenzy trigged by the new chief communications officer.

I thought each of these events would be a wake-up call, a reflection point but none of them were. The district just keeps sliding further and further into a dark abyss of bad governance. Board meetings are a series of manufactured feel good moments devoid of any meaningful dialogue about finances, leadership or academics. Between the lengthy speeches and confrontations with the public, the board’s dysfunction is on full display. The board sets the tone and the example for the entire district, so it’s no surprise Central Office employees speak of a culture of fear, retaliation, and retribution. The toxicity will trickle down, seeping through the layers of the district hierarchy, spreading to schools and classrooms like a virus until it ruins everything that is good about SLPS if we don’t stop it.

Despite the “everything’s fine, nothing to see here!” message sent by the interim superintendent, board president, and board vice-president, we know a festering wound when we see one. We’ve heard the counter narrative from two brave board members who spoke up, went to the press, told their truth, told THE truth.

But, as we all know, you need at least four votes to get anything done on a school board. Two dissenting voices, no matter how loud or how truthful, aren’t enough to make change when the other five are derelict in their fiduciary duties. I know it is the easiest thing, but to wonder why Emily and Sadie couldn’t just be a little louder, do a little more, hang on a little longer misses the point. This whole fiasco isn’t an other people problem. It isn’t up to others, no matter what positions of authority they hold, to save our democratic institutions on our behalf. It’s up to all of us. Our leaders lead the way, but they can’t do it alone.

What do we do with the power we have?

Back in early fall, the turmoil built connections between city and the state; past and present; and unlikely allies as everyone searched for stability and ways to shore up the district. The collective shock fostered candid conversations and articulated fears of the loss of accreditation and state takeover. But no matter who was in the room, the verdict was the same — the state has no appetite to take over SLPS.

Whew! What a relief, right? Well. It was. For a while.

Six months later things are different. A state takeover is a foregone conclusion in the minds of many, only the timeline is in dispute. Will it happen? I don’t know. The state isn’t exactly free of dysfunction, but given the preoccupation with taking over the St. Louis police department, I’d say we have a lot to be worried about.

I wish I could tell you that the policy power players are doing what they can to prevent a state takeover, but, from what I’ve seen anyway, they’re not. A good chunk of people with influence are sitting this one out, wringing their hands, hoping for a miracle — We don’t have the authority to make anyone do anything!! — while others see criticism of SLPS as too great a risk to their political brand.

For others though it’s not fear of losing that motivates, but the opposite. They’re driven by power and the possibility of winning more.

Instead of lending their name, credibility, and authority to call for less drastic and likely more beneficial interventions, they have resigned themselves to leveraging what power they do have to wield influence over who is ultimately chosen for the appointed board. Instead of using their access to wealth, philanthropy, and expertise to offer resources, training, data, and support, they offer excuses for why those things won’t work. Apparently, it doesn’t matter that governance by an appointed board isn’t known to be superior to that by an elected board, or that academic outcomes are just as mixed. Or that changing the model of governance without consideration of the local context isn’t a guarantee to produce change. Governance is too hard to define, encompasses too many things, and its effects spread too far to ever expect that it would.

What does matter, though, is proximity to power. And very few people in power are willing to risk losing theirs.

You see, an elected board is really difficult to control. Changes to the board’s composition can only happen through elections, elections which occur infrequently and on a set schedule. Elections are also difficult to control. They come with long campaigns and expensive price tags. No matter how hard you work or how much money you spend, the voters always have the final say in the end. Power can only get you so far. On the other hand, to get your people on an appointed board you only have to whisper in the ear of the right person or donate to the right campaign fund.

I’ll admit, my faith in an elected board has been shaken. My doubts as to whether an elected board is the best way to govern a school district extend all the way back to my last year on the board. I’m not convinced that leaving the academic and emotional well-being of children up to the whims of the voters is the best we can do. I’ve never been one to assume that the best way to do things is the way that they’ve always been done or just because nothing else so far is better.

But I promise you this, an elected board is the very best of all the existing models of governance. Unless and until we devise a new model that protects our democratic rights; demonstrably improves outcomes for children and the district; and establishes the district as critical infrastructure in the city it serves, I’ll be fighting for SLPS to be governed by an elected board.

What do we do with the power we have?

Not that anyone asked me, but I think we can salvage this. We can thwart, or at least delay, a state takeover. There’s a lot of power up for grabs, power looking for a place to rest. Why shouldn’t it land with us?

SLPS belongs to us anyway. Not the elected board. Not the power players. Not the state legislature or the governor or DESE. The problem is that more than a decade under appointed governance made us lose our sense of authority and ownership. So, while we’re down here in the muck fighting over billionaires and charter schools, hosting chaotic school board candidate forums that end in (alleged) physical altercations, the conventional power holders are making plans about what to do about our school district and using this behavior to justify why don’t deserve to have a say.

What do we do with the power we have?

I’m running out of ideas. I’ve talked to everyone I know to talk to. I’ve devised every plan I know to write. But we’ve come too far to give up on elected governance because a few people have a misplaced sense of right and wrong.

So, can we try something? Can we commit to learning everything we can about good governance? An elected board requires two things - elected board members and the people who elect them. We can’t control the actions of our elected representatives, but we can control ours.

I propose we start a book club. We can learn about governance together, regaining the natural understanding that we lost when we lost our elected board nearly 20 years ago.

Our book is: The Governance Core 2.0 by Campbell, Fullan, and Kavanaugh (2024). It’s not a perfect manual on governance, but it’s the closest thing I’ve found to it. Starting the week of February 10, I’ll share my reflections, pose some questions, and answer yours. I’m not exactly sure what this will look like yet, but I’ll figure it out if you’re willing to join me.

Maybe this is a crazy idea, but it’s one thing we can do with the power that we have.

If you’re in, send me a message! I can’t wait to hear from you!