The Quiet Crisis in Alaska’s Schools: Beyond Closures and Budgets
Alaska’s schools are in the midst of a quiet crisis, one that goes far beyond the alarming number of closures we’ve seen in recent years. Personally, I think what’s happening here is a canary in the coal mine for broader systemic issues—issues that aren’t unique to Alaska but are certainly amplified by its unique challenges. Let me explain.
The Numbers Don’t Lie, But They Don’t Tell the Whole Story
First, let’s talk about the facts. A dozen schools closed in Alaska last May, the highest number in two decades. Since 1999, 60 schools have shut their doors, with 28 closing in just the last three years. What makes this particularly fascinating is that these closures aren’t just happening in rural areas—urban districts are feeling the pinch too. But here’s the kicker: research suggests that closures don’t actually save districts as much money as they think. So why are they happening?
In my opinion, it’s a perfect storm of factors: declining enrollment, outmigration, inflation, and the rise of school choice programs. Alaska’s birth rate is dropping, and families are leaving the state. At the same time, districts are being asked to provide more educational options—correspondence programs, charter schools, you name it—while funding remains stagnant or even declines. One thing that immediately stands out is the disconnect between what families want and what districts can afford to provide.
The Funding Paradox
Here’s where things get really interesting. Alaska legislators did pass a permanent increase in state formula funding for schools in 2025, the first since 2017. But school officials say it’s not enough. What many people don’t realize is that districts are caught in a funding paradox: they’re expected to offer more choices, but those choices cost money they don’t have. Matanuska-Susitna Borough Superintendent Randy Trani put it bluntly: ‘We’re all dealing with this more and more choice thing, and we’re all dealing with less and less funding.’
This raises a deeper question: Are we setting districts up to fail by demanding more without providing the resources? If you take a step back and think about it, the issue isn’t just about money—it’s about priorities. State funding models are tied to student location, which means districts lose funding when students switch to correspondence or charter schools. This creates a vicious cycle where neighborhood schools struggle to stay afloat.
The Human Cost of Closures
A detail that I find especially interesting is how closures impact communities. In Fairbanks, Superintendent Luke Meinert described the emotional toll of closures as ‘incredibly difficult and painful.’ Families in Ketchikan were frustrated and emotional after two elementary schools closed. What this really suggests is that closures aren’t just administrative decisions—they’re deeply personal. Students lose their sense of place, families lose trust in the system, and educators lose their jobs.
But there’s another layer here. Research shows that poorly handled closures can exacerbate racial inequities and harm student achievement. In Alaska, where Indigenous communities are already underserved, this is a critical concern. We’re not just closing buildings—we’re potentially closing doors of opportunity for marginalized students.
The Choice Conundrum
Now, let’s talk about school choice. Some argue that choice programs are pulling students—and funding—away from neighborhood schools. Others say choice gives families what they want. Personally, I think it’s more nuanced. Anchorage Superintendent Jharrett Bryantt called it a ‘red herring’ to pit neighborhood schools against choice programs. He’s right—the issue is bigger than that. What’s really at stake is how we balance equity and autonomy in education.
Here’s the thing: choice programs can work, but not if they come at the expense of underfunded neighborhood schools. We need a system that supports both. A detail that I find especially interesting is how some districts, like Juneau, have used consolidations to expand opportunities for students. But even there, deficits loom. It’s a reminder that there are no easy solutions.
Looking Ahead: What’s Next?
So, where do we go from here? State Senator Löki Tobin suggested rethinking school finance models altogether. She’s onto something. We need policies that support families holistically—paid family leave, healthcare access, better foster care systems. These might seem unrelated to education, but they’re not. Stable families mean stable schools.
What this really suggests is that the crisis in Alaska’s schools is a symptom of larger societal issues. Declining populations, economic uncertainty, and shifting priorities are reshaping education nationwide. Alaska’s situation is extreme, but it’s not isolated. Other states are grappling with similar challenges, though perhaps not as acutely.
Final Thoughts
In my opinion, the future of Alaska’s schools depends on bold, systemic change. Throwing money at the problem won’t fix it—we need to rethink how we fund, structure, and prioritize education. This isn’t just about saving schools; it’s about saving communities. If we don’t act, closures will continue, and the fabric of Alaska’s education system will unravel further.
What makes this particularly fascinating is that Alaska has always been a state of resilience and innovation. Maybe, just maybe, it can lead the way in reimagining what public education can—and should—be. But that will take courage, creativity, and a willingness to challenge the status quo. The question is: Are we up to the task?
