If you follow Anchorage news, you’ve probably heard about ASD schools proposing the closure of seven elementary schools. This represents about a 12% reduction in ASD’s elementary school programs. So why do I, in 2024, have 26 Kindergarteners in my classroom?
Let me paint the picture: 26 five-year-olds, one teacher (me), and a part-time adult aide who can only be in the classroom for a few hours a day. That’s it. If you think this isn’t a great environment for safety and learning, you’re absolutely right. Now, imagine calling this situation “under capacity.”
I’m not sure how ASD and the State are defining “capacity,” but it sure as hell isn’t based on expert teacher feedback. The last time we were asked we told you loudly that 27-1 pupil to teacher ratio is absurd. Those of us in the trenches know that high class sizes make it harder to teach effectively, build relationships with students, and create an environment where every child can thrive.
Smaller class sizes shouldn’t be seen as a problem to fix—they’re a goal to strive for. Research has repeatedly shown that students learn better in smaller classes. Teachers can provide more individualized attention, and kids are less likely to fall through the cracks. But instead of celebrating small class sizes, we’re told they’re a sign of inefficiency, of schools “underperforming.” This rhetoric is not only wrong—it’s dangerous.
The Real Cost of High Class Sizes
The reality of ASD school closures isn’t just about buildings or budgets. It’s about people. Over the past few years, I’ve watched talented, dedicated colleagues leave the teaching profession. Many of them cite large class sizes as one of the main reasons for their decision.
Teaching is already a challenging job, but when classrooms are overcrowded, the stress becomes unbearable. Students don’t get the attention they deserve, teachers burn out, and ultimately, everyone loses. Retaining good teachers is critical to the success of our schools, but it won’t happen if we keep making their jobs harder and less rewarding.
Decades of Underfunding
To be clear, my employer doesn’t want to close schools. I know this. You know this. It’s simply what happens after decades of anti-education legislators have been elected at the local, state, and federal levels. The Anchorage School District is doing the best it can with limited resources, but it’s like trying to patch a sinking ship with duct tape.
In a world where everything costs more, who but the most wealthy have the cash to send their kids to one of those golden egg “charter schools” we always hear about? And let’s be honest: is it any surprise that Anchorage’s population is declining when we routinely reject the very thing families value most—good schools?
I challenge anyone to walk into my classroom and tell me that ASD doesn’t ha. There is no such thing as overinvesting in the future of our kids. Every dollar we spend on smaller class sizes, better facilities, and retaining quality educators pays dividends for decades to come.
Signed,
A Disappointed ASD Elementary Teacher