Claremont’s School Board School District Titanic Disaster
Claremont, New Hampshire, where I live, is an old New England mill town on the banks of the Sugar River where it meets the Connecticut River. The major industrial employers left in the last quarter of the previous century, and the economy has yet to recover from that blow. Although the median income is well below the state’s, our property taxes are some of the highest. This problem has been exacerbated by a recent reassessment of property values, which turned us into a billion-dollar town.
One of the principal challenges faced by the city is the local school district. Comprised of three grade schools, one middle school, and one high school, serving approximately 1,500 students, the district is infamous for poor academic performance and lending its name to two New Hampshire Supreme Court cases regarding adequate funding of government schools. Recently, it was revealed that the district has a $5 million deficit. This deficit is so severe that the district only has one month of operating funds on hand. Further, the district has not been conducting regular audits of its budget and operations since 2019.
But wait, there’s more, or less, depending on how you look at it. No New Hampshire school district has ever declared bankruptcy, there’s no mechanism for it to go into receivership, and no mechanism for the state to take over. More taxes can’t be raised without action by the state legislature, the City Council, and the Claremont electorate, and the district cannot issue a bond to cover operating expenses. All of this came to a head at the Claremont School Board Meeting on August 20, 2025, which was attended by hundreds of people, likely more than the total number of attendees at the many deliberative sessions where the school board sold the power tools they used to dig this cavernous hole.
There were many views expressed at the meeting. Seniors and parents of seniors voiced concern that a disrupted school year would impair their ability to borrow vast sums to attend college next year. Several people expressed concern over the potential impact on the district’s sports teams and school bands. Many people expressed a desire to punish the miscreants, with some also advocating for a forensic audit. Several people expressed concern over the continuing negative impact on property values. One person commented on the district’s abysmal academic record, which was recently reported at 25% proficiency in math.
Several elected officials used the occasion to evangelize for their Fairness in Funding religion. Karen Liott Hill and Hope Damon genuflected at the altar of having the state take other people’s money and giving it to us. Both encouraged the audience to contact the governor and encourage her to provide Claremont with more of other people’s money, as soon as possible. It’s never surprising when politicians pursue their ideological ends at the expense of the electorate, but this was particularly egregious. Let’s recap. The teaching staff has failed for years to produce a student body where even half are proficient in math, English, and science. The administration has failed to operate the district in a business-like manner for years. The school board has failed to exercise its fiduciary responsibility for years. And the acolytes of the First Church of Fairness in Funding assure us with total metaphysical certitude that instituting state-wide income and sales taxes will solve all of these problems. Neither politician explained how increased funding wouldn’t have led to an increased deficit.
The corker was when representative Damon said that she would introduce legislation to require that school districts perform annual audits. While the faithful cheered, I thought of all the times I’ve read the sign that says “Employees Must Wash Hands” and said to myself jokingly, “Being retired and therefore unemployed, I don’t have to wash my hands.” I’m hoping our school board members are smarter than that, but they’ve placed a $5 million bet against that hope.
Arranging the deck chairs on the Titanic is an old aphorism used to signal the pointlessness of a given course of action, but in this case, it is insufficiently appropriate. We are arguing about the color of the cushions on the deckchairs.
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