Why rural Idaho continues to get left holding the bag

When public funds are redirected to private entities, small, rural communities like the Silver Valley are the ones left out in the cold. 

Last fall, the Kellogg School District was one of several smaller Idaho districts that failed to pass a supplemental levy. But the question shouldn’t be why did the levy fail? The real question is why was a supplemental levy required in the first place? 

Idaho’s Constitution is clear. Article IX, Section 1 states that it is the duty of the Legislature to “establish and maintain a general, uniform and thorough system of public, free common schools.” What it does not say is that the state may fund only part of that system and leave the rest up to local voters. Yet that is exactly where Idaho finds itself today. The state covers only about 80% of what it takes to operate schools, forcing districts to ask their residents to close the gap. 

So how did we get here? 

The shift began in the late 1990s, when Idaho made changes to its funding formulas and tax policies that capped or slowed growth in K–12 funding, even as enrollment and operating costs continued to rise. Teacher salaries, transportation, utilities, and special education costs didn’t stop increasing, but state support did. The result was predictable: districts were forced to turn to their communities for supplemental levies just to maintain basic services. 

In 2005, the Idaho Supreme Court ruled that the Legislature was failing to meet its constitutional obligation, particularly regarding school facilities. Then came 2008 and the Great Recession. Idaho enacted deep K–12 cuts, reducing teacher pay and eliminating key programs such as math and reading supports, after‑school tutoring, career‑technical education, credit recovery options, field trips, and extracurricular activities. 

Those cuts were framed as temporary. But when the economy rebounded, the state did not restore education funding to previous levels or trends. Instead, this reduced model became the new normal. 

The consequences are clear. Since 2020, Idaho has ranked either 49th or 50th in the nation for per‑pupil funding. This includes the recent shift to an average daily attendance model that punishes schools when children are absent and routinely underfunds what smaller districts need to maintain the limited courses and programs they provide.

And rather than reversing course, the Legislature doubled down last year by approving House Bill 93, which allocates $50 million for private school, homeschool, and other non‑public education expenses through a refundable tax credit. Even more concerning, supporters of the policy have openly called the $50 million a starting point and expressed interest in expanding it. 

Legislators across North Idaho, including Vito Barbieri, Ben Toews, Doug Ricks, Phil Hart, Joe Alfieri, and Chris Bruce, supported HB 93. When the bill reached Governor Brad Little’s desk, roughly 37,000 Idaho residents contacted his office, about 32,000 of them opposing the measure. Despite that overwhelming opposition, the bill was signed into law. It is now being challenged in the Idaho Supreme Court, likely the only reason it has not already been expanded. 

This is the context in which communities are being asked to pass supplemental levies. 

No one likes additional taxes, especially ones that shouldn’t be necessary. But in rural towns, schools are more than just classrooms. They are community hubs, hosting sports, concerts, meetings, and providing shared space that keeps communities connected. When schools are weakened, entire communities suffer. 

Supplemental levies are not evidence of local failure or mismanagement. They are the direct result of state policy choices. 

Idaho doesn’t have a levy problem. It has a public school funding problem. 

Until the state makes a serious adjustment in how it funds education, communities like the Silver Valley will continue to be forced to pay more locally for what the state continues to mandate while simultaneously choosing not to fund.