Proposition 123 is only the tip of an ominous iceberg. Toting up the dollars today, the principal of the fund that provides supplemental revenue to K-12 schools is $4.8 billion. Budget forecasts show that fund should have $9.0 billion in principal by 2025. However, if 123 passes, the amount of money taken from the land trust during the intervening years will exceed the return on the investments and will require consumption of principal, reducing the principal to $6.2 billion in 2025. Again, those are projections and the actual value in 2025 will depend on market forces, but Proposition 123 stands to diminish the fund painfully and dramatically. Yet, the proposition seems to have powerful friends:
Per the Arizona Secretary of State, the Proposition 123 coffers runneth over with more than $3.7 million—that’s million with an M—in contributions, and spending of a comparatively meager $320 thousand. (Conversely, the committee in opposition has collected $617.00 and spent $173.00. Not millions. Not hundreds of thousands. Not even thousands. Six hundred seventeen dollars.) For what possible purpose could “Let’s Vote Yes” require staggering sum of money, if they have had no cause to spend roughly $3.4 million in campaigning? In two weeks, when this election is over, don’t expect to see the Prop 123 folks pouring their spare reserves into the classrooms directly. Of course, political fundraising machines are allowed to contribute to other such campaigns as well. And there are more ballot measures to come in November.
One such proposition that is still seeking signatures is a measure to amend the State Constitution to require a two-thirds majority vote in the legislature to reduce state funding to public education. This requirement would hold, even in times of economic recession. The language of this proposed amendment drips with nectar and honey from its flowery language, speaking to the state’s “promises to its public school students,” and to those promises being our state’s “greatest virtues”. Profusely emotive legislation should deeply concern every constituent, and this potential ballot measure is worded to tug at your heartstrings. But there are more nefarious plans out there.
Another proposition vying for presentation to the voters in November seeks to control property taxes, eventually phase out personal property taxes altogether, and end all property taxes that fund K-12 education. This proposition will completely redefine the taxable base of all personal real estate and will leave school districts searching for another source of funding. This could lead to schools issuing more bonds, to be paid via tax increment funding districts or higher sales taxes; or, this could lead to even further increases in the payout from the state land trust. But in no way will this lead to a lessening of taxes; the districts, having added token headcount courtesy Prop 123 funding, would then cry to the electorate that they require funds to replace the lost property tax revenue, lest they have to cut back teachers. Of course, in the case of TUSD, the differential would be negligible as the proposed increase in funding from 123 could nearly replace all of the property tax revenue. Minor cuts to administration would balance that out, cuts that will never happen. And being given an opportunity to solicit new funding from the electorate, the districts will likely aim for loftier spending goals, and, as a matter of course, provide no guarantee that the new funding will funnel into the classroom. Just like Proposition 123.
The blanketing of advertising for Prop 123 paints a simple picture, like your third-grader’s self-portrait stuck to your refrigerator door. In actuality, the blueprint behind 123 frames a structure even Rube Goldberg would fear. The more truth comes to light about 123, the more imperative it becomes to strike the measure down.