38 United States The Economist February 19th 2022
Schoolpolitics
Going overboard
W
hat do ice-hockey, realitytelevi
sion shows and schoolboard meet
ings have in common? Lately people have
been watching them for the fights. School
board meetings, once boring affairs, have
turned into political cagematches.
School boards are the governing body of
local school systems. They usually consist
of several unpaid elected officials. Before
covid19, elections typically had low turn
out (often between 5% and 10%). Atten
dance at meetings tended to be sparse.
Loudoun County’s board in Virginia
was one of the first to get attention last
summer. Videos show attendees scream
ing about critical race theory (crt) and
transgender policies. During one meeting
a parent was arrested.
Commotion has spread across the
country. In San Francisco the fight was in
tense but conventional, through a recall
vote (see box). Elsewhere, board members
have been threatened. Some have behaved
badly themselves: four in California re
signed last year after mocking parents on a
public livestream. In September the Na
tional School Boards Association called on
the federal government to intervene, ac
cusing parents of “domestic terrorism and
hate crimes”. Its letter sparked a backlash
and an apology from the association.
The pandemic and its restrictions
brought more families to meetings. Valerie
Shannon in Scottsdale, near Phoenix, Ari
zona, began to attend schoolboard meet
ings when she noticed that her son was
struggling academically during the pan
demic. “None of us paid attention to the
school board,” she says. “We first started
with, let’s just get these schools reopened.”
Her interest then spread to other concerns.
In May 2021, a board meeting in Scotts
dale was shut down after attendees refused
to wear masks despite a mandate to do so
indoors. In August there were protests out
side a closeddoor meeting to discuss the
school district’s mask mandate. A week lat
er Charlie Kirk, a conservative activist with
1.7m Twitter followers, spoke up at a public
session of the board. “I am a new resident
of Scottsdale,” he said. “It kind of feels like I
am living in San Francisco because of all of
you and your selfrighteous measures that
you’re putting to abuse the children of this
wonderful state.” Yet masks were mandat
ed for pupils from August 2021 until Janu
ary. An attempt to recall four of the five
elected officials has failed.
In November an online dossier came to
light, allegedly compiled by Mark Green
burg, whose son, JannMichael, was presi
S COTTSDALE, ARIZONA
Once mundane, school-board meetings
have become battlegrounds
C
lad inhisbrightyellowcampaign
shirt, Kit Lam and his fellow suppor
ters of the effort to recall three members
of the San Francisco Board of Education
fanned out across Chinatown. They were
making a final electionday push, eagerly
speaking in Mandarin and Cantonese to
passersby. “We are going to win today,
and it won’t be close,” says Mr Lam. He
soon proved his chops as a pundit as well
as a campaigner. The three commission
ers—Alison Collins, Gabriela López and
Faauuga Moliga—were soundly defeated
on February 15th. It is the city’s first
successful recall campaign since 1914.
San Francisco was an unlikely site for
a schoolboard battle. It is a Democratic
Party stronghold. Among America’s 100
largest cities, it has the lowest pop
ulation share of children. Some 30% of
them are enrolled in private schools. The
emphatic rejection of the board points to
a deep discontent. This stemmed from
the lackadaisical approach to reopening
public schools amid the covid19 pan
demic, coupled with an excessive focus
on symbolic racialjustice issues.
Siva Raj saw the toll that remote
learning had inflicted on his children.
“Our kids were falling further and further
behind,” says Mr Raj. Neither speeches,
nor petitions, nor protests seemed to
have any effect. In February Mr Raj and
his partner, Autumn Looijen, began
collecting signatures for a recall.
While students struggled, the board
toyed with renaming 44 schools, some of
which honoured infamous villains like
Abraham Lincoln. It rejected a candidate
for the parent advisory council because,
as a gay, white male, he would not add
sufficient racial diversity. Meanwhile,
the city’s racialachievement gap only
widened during the pandemic: African
Americans suffered higher rates of ab
senteeism and learning loss than others.
With a $125m schoolsbudget deficit
looming,SanFrancisco’smayor, London
Breed, supported the recall. She will now
appoint three replacements.
Many AsianAmericans were in
censed by the decision to switch from
meritbased admissions at the academi
cally rigorous Lowell High School to a
lottery. The board justified this change as
necessary for racial justice. After the
share of AsianAmericans in the sub
sequent freshman class at Lowell
dropped from 50% to 42%, Ms López
lauded the school’s “most diverse stu
dent population arguably ever”. “People
in the community were just fed up,” says
Mr Lam, a ChineseAmerican parent of
two. Precincts in predominantly Asian
American neighbourhoods voted for the
recall by almost ten percentage points
more than the city at large.
Opponents tried in vain to tar the
recall as a rightwing takeover. “This was
a revolution for competence,” says Ms
Looijen. It is a warning to radicals in
school boards across America.
Parentpower
Total recall
S AN FRANCISCO
Asuccessful school-board recall punishes left-wing excess
Parental approval required