‘Iowa … a place to grow?’ Not anymore

Long before GPS, we were lost in the Ozarks. I thought I knew where we were, but poor map skills, and a map with too many fast-food spills, spelled trouble. We had no idea what hill we were climbing, and what town might be around the next hairpin curve.

The kids were whining for food, my wife was coldly silent, and it was getting dark. We were officially lost. But as I turned another corner, I saw a rundown, country station with “INFORMATION” etched in huge letters across its roof.

Thinking we were saved from wandering in the wilderness, I burst through the door clutching my ketchup-stained map. The teenage clerk behind the counter, looked up, and asked, “Can I help ya?”

I said, “Saw your sign, and need information.”

He looked puzzled. With a deep shrug of bony shoulders, he mumbled, “It’s an old sign.”

I never understood his directions. So, I just kept driving until we found a town, with at least one blinking stop light and some microwave food.

That trip reminds me of another sign we see along Iowa roads. “Iowa … a Place to Grow.” That branding began in 1970 to show Iowa was more than a place to farm; it was a safe and welcoming place for everyone to grow and prosper.

It fit then. It doesn’t now.

Now many Iowans don’t recognize their own state. “Iowa Nice” has been transformed by GOP leadership into “Iowa, We Have Power. Too Bad About You.” One place this is evident is its treatment of public schools and public-school educators.

Since 2011, when Republicans gained a majority in the House, they’ve created a school funding drought. Ten of the last 11 years, state supplemental aid has been less than 3 percent. In 2022, with Republicans screaming about 7 percent inflation and with over a billion dollars in reserve, they allocated just 2.5 percent for schools.

In 2017, with freshly minted majorities in both chambers, and without a word during campaigns, Republicans rammed through the gutting of Iowa’s 43-year-old, public sector bargaining law.

Under the new law, educators can bargain only starting salary. All other contract provisions can be unilaterally removed or put into an employee handbook that can be changed by board action with two votes. Now, a school board’s first bargaining offer can be its final one. Some districts did the right thing; many didn’t.

Then with the pandemic still claiming thousands of lives, Gov. Kim Reynolds decided one size fit all, and local control didn’t matter, as she ordered all schools to reopen. It wasn’t safe for kids or educators. But for Reynolds and her acolytes, politics trumped science. Educators began to look for the exits, and substitute teachers valued staying alive more than a $15-an-hour job.

Now, the biggest threat is Senate File 2369. This bill punches public schools two ways. The first is requiring all classroom materials to be published on the school district website Aug. 23 and Jan. 15. This means before any teacher meets their students, they’ll be forced to decide the best approach and the right classroom pace. It’s like a doctor diagnosing a patient having never met the patient. According to the Legislative Services Agency, this would cost schools $27.4 million to comply.

The second punch of this bill is Gov. Reynolds’ voucher scheme that robs money from the public system to give to the private. This will devastate the already underfunded public schools.

We can’t let our classrooms be packed with kids but empty of teachers. Let’s not get lost because “Iowa … a Place to Grow” is an old sign.

Bruce Lear lives in Sioux City and has been connected to public schools for 38 years. He taught for 11 years and represented educators as an Iowa State Education Association Regional Director for 27 years until retiring. He grew up in Shellsburg.