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District Dialogues: Triumphs, Trials, and Transformations

Alaska’s Schools Grapple With Progress and Peril

By Ross Johnston

ANCHORAGE — Alaska’s education system stands as a testament to resilience. At a recent forum hosted by Commonwealth North, five superintendents from districts large and small laid bare the triumphs of their classrooms against a backdrop of fiscal cliffs and shifting student needs. Moderated by Kai Binkley-Sims, vice chair of Commonwealth North, the panel included Dr. Jharrett Bryantt of the Anchorage School District; Clayton Holland of the Kenai Peninsula Borough School District; Dr. Luke Meinert of the Fairbanks North Star Borough School District; Dr. Madeline Aguillard of the Kuspuk School District; and Dr. Jason Johnson of the Galena City School District. Though representing different parts of Alaska, each superintendent shared a commitment and a passion for student outcomes. The discussion drew a crowd of teachers, policymakers, and concerned parents.

Sponsored by the Alaska Superintendents Association

For all the fiscal headwinds, Alaska’s schools are churning out successes that rival urban powerhouses — proof, educators say, that investment yields returns when it lands in the right hands.

In Anchorage, the state’s largest district with 41,700 students, Dr. Bryantt touted a “strong start” to the 2025-26 year, despite summer vetoes. 100% of the released $14 million funding went into the classroom. They began hiring20 new teacher positions within 72 hours. Bryantt touted double-digit literacy leaps: 10 percent gains in kindergarten and first-grade screeners over two consecutive years, including a staggering 21 percent jump at Kasuun Elementary, long one of the system’s lowest performers. Advanced Placement enrollment has swelled by 700 students since Bryantt’s arrival, with passing rates soaring to 89 percent at Eagle River High School — up from 55 percent in 2021. Math, too, is on the mend: Eighth-graders posted a 5 percent improvement on state assessments, one of the strongest in Alaska. Graduation rates ticked up 2 percentage points districtwide, hitting 94 percent for career-technical education (CTE) participants after the addition of 26 new pathways. “We’re within arm’s reach of 90 percent for all students,” Bryantt said, envisioning “thousands” entering college or the workforce equipped for success. Anchorage has seen an influx of 170 students displaced by Typhoon Ha-Long in Western Alaska. “Those students are traumatized… They’ve lost everything,” Bryantt said. “It’s going to take years to build them back up.” The community rallied — outfitting kids with Halloween costumes and food in a city where basics are hard to source. “We have more students with needs than we’ve ever seen before,” he added.

Down in the Kenai Peninsula, where Clayton Holland oversees 43 schools across an area the size of West Virginia, the metrics shine brighter still. The district outperforms national norms on literacy and math growth assessments, boasts an 82 percent AP pass rate (beating global averages) and counts three alumni bound for MIT and five for military academies. Graduation rates have rebounded to pre-pandemic highs, with a 90 percent target in sight, fueled by CTE expansions like energy camps and healthcare intensives offering dual credits and certifications.

Fairbanks North Star, with 11,197 students across 28 schools, marked steady literacy climbs: 66 percent of K-3 students proficient on spring 2025 mCLASS, up 3 points and surpassing goals; 60 percent in grades 3-9 on MAP assessments, another 3-point gain. Graduation soared to a record 82.6 percent, with special education up 26.7 points and Alaska Native students gaining 8.8 points. Lathrop High jumped 16 points to 79.9 percent. Algebra passing rates rose 10 percent in the first semester. 

In rural Galena City, Dr. Jason Johnson celebrated “skyrocketing” K-6 literacy at Sidney Huntington Schools alongside CTE triumphs like aviation solos, a State Board of Education award for student learning and Yukon River-based programs teaching snow machine repair and subsistence fishing at the Galena Interior Learning Academy (GILA). Johnson also highlighted the successes of special education students in IDEA’s homeschool program.

Kuspuk, a remote expanse of eight schools in seven air- or river-only villages, serves 96 percent Alaska Native students (Yup’ik and Athabascan) amid the state’s highest child poverty rate. Dr. Aguillard’s “Calillgutekluta Ciutmurrnaurtukut” — “Let’s go forward, working together” — framed triumphs in cultural unity, serving 1,391 residents across 12,000 square miles from Lower Kalskag to Stony River. Kuspuk weaves Yup’ik/Athabascan heritage into forward momentum. Graduation rates are trending upward, even with classes as small as one — as at Crow Village  Sam School, where a lone senior crossed the stage last year in a “wonderful event.” Unique place-based programs, sustained since 2005 through grants and donors, immerse students in river life: two-week expeditions teaching survival skills and a shorter eight-day George River Internship, complete with stipends and fly-in drop-offs at gravel bars or dirt strips. Applications triple capacity, limited only by adult chaperones willing to brave the wilderness with dozens of teens. “These experiences on the river… are going to carry them through life,” Aguillard said.

These wins, panelists agreed, stem not from mandates but from educators’ grit: “The Reads Act has been successful… because of the educators in the classroom,” Holland noted.

BSA Amount vs. BSA Adjusted for Cost of Living & Inflation

Alaska’s K-12 spending often draws national scrutiny — clocking in at about $22,600 per student. Yet the figure is a mirage, inflated by the state’s unique geography and unadjusted for the soaring costs of delivering education in a place where fuel prices can double overnight and teachers may need planes to reach their classrooms. 

An independent cost-of-living study (ISER) ranks Alaska 10th in raw dollars but below the national average when adjusted for expenses. A district “pencil graph” reveals a $700 shortfall per student since 2011, as costs outpace allocations. Anchorage lags 14 percent behind the U.S. average, a gap widening since 2022 when four more states surged ahead in per-pupil investment.

The BSA — Alaska’s foundational per-student funding — has barely budged in a decade. Since 2017, school district budgets have risen 8.5 percent, even as every other state department ballooned by 36 percent on average — including a 55 percent surge for the Department of Corrections. 

If The BSA had kept pace with inflation, that figure would have climbed steadily: $7,612 by FY24, $7,787 by FY25, $7,943 by FY26. Instead, the actual BSA languished at $5,930 through FY24, ticking up modestly to $5,960 in FY25 before the bipartisan legislative overrides of summer 2025 pushed it to $6,660 for FY26 and FY27 — still $1,442 short of what inflation demands today, and a yawning $2,172 gap from the 1980s’ adjusted equivalent when teacher pay topped national averages by 75 percent and pensions were the envy of the union.

Skeptics often point to administrative “bloat” as the villain. But the numbers, laid bare in Bryantt’s FY26 budget breakdown for Anchorage’s $644 million operation, puncture that myth. Districtwide administration — encompassing the superintendent, chief officers, payroll, HR, IT, risk management, and communications — claims just 5.3 percent, or $34.5 million, down from 5.7 percent the prior year. Direct classroom instruction devours 59.5 percent ($383 million), student supports 22.5 percent ($145 million), and operations/maintenance 12.7 percent ($82 million). “Cut all the administrators out,” Bryantt might counter, and you’d scrape together perhaps 5 percent of the budget — a drop that wouldn’t dent the inflation gap. Even then, districts would still lack $1,442 per student annually to reach FY26’s inflation-proofed BSA of $7,943. Statewide, DEED’s K-12 allocation rose only 12 percent since FY17, trailing inflation by hundreds of millions. “Stability builds trust and strengthens stewardship,” Bryantt’s slides proclaimed. “Predictable funding drives smarter decisions and stronger outcomes. When schools can plan ahead, every dollar goes further.” Almost every year since 2016, districts have been threatened by funding cuts leading to an unstable working environment for teachers threatened by furloughs and layoffs.  

Rural distortions amplify the pain. In places like Kuspuk’s riverine outposts, gas prices have doubled and utilities jumped 33 percent, stretching federal benefits like SNAP and Medicaid to their limits. Up to 60 percent of its operational budget derives from grants — federal and state — a lifeline that’s fraying as applications dwindle and awards are pulled. This summer’s federal funding pause nearly derailed core programs, forcing frantic encumbrance of already-spent dollars. “There’s not as many applications, there’s grants being pulled,” Aguillard said. “That’s one of the things that really is on our mind.”

Changing Demographics: Trauma and Transition

Alaska’s classrooms are evolving, but not always for the easier. Statewide, enrollment is dipping: Fairbanks has shed 500 to 600 students, 70 percent due to out-migration rather than homeschooling or charters. Birth rates are falling, with more high school graduates than kindergartners entering annually. Special education caseloads leaped 21 percent in 10 years, 28.5 percent post-COVID, per Fairbanks — amid nationwide shortages.

Homeschooling, while a “positive choice” for many families, raises alarms as it siphons resources from brick-and-mortar schools. “It is a concern for all of us as we have kids shift,” Holland said. Alaska has the highest rate of homeschool in the country at 17% compared to the national average of 6%.

Infrastructure & Transportation

From unbudgeted 27 percent spikes in electricity rates crippling rural operations to the closure of seven Fairbanks schools, infrastructure woes compound funding squeezes. In Galena, facilities are “falling apart” — second on the state’s maintenance backlog — plagued by mishaps like indoor waterfalls from leaky roofs. Food service costs ballooned $300,000 after U.S. Postal Service bypass mail cuts, forcing districts to scramble for alternatives.

High school class sizes in Fairbanks have swelled by 10 students, slashing course options and eroding gifted programs. Staff cuts — 25 percent in administration, 360 jobs overall — have left some SPED classes starting the school year with uncertified educators. “We’re hodgepodging this whole thing,” Holland lamented of lost librarians, arts and music programs. “And I keep going back to imagine what we could do if we had that funding, what other opportunities would we be able to offer our kids?” 

(FAIRBANKS SLIDE ON REDUCTIONS)

Kuspuk’s fixed costs paint a dire picture: Property insurance has tripled for buildings the district doesn’t even own, leaving it in a bind — unaffordable premiums yet insufficient coverage for a catastrophic rebuild. Fuel, barged upriver, is at the mercy of volatile markets, while utilities in Aniak once quadrupled to “some of the highest electrical rates in the world.” Now, four more communities face 27 percent hikes effective this month, blindsiding budgets via a late public notice. “We didn’t budget for that,” Aguillard said. “How do we keep the lights on in these buildings?”

(KUSPUK SLIDE ON OPERATIONAL COSTS)

Correspondence programs, vital for remote families, receive zero additional fiscal support for special education students like their peers in brick-mortar schools. “You’re depriving them of the things they need, and at the same time, you’re taking away from other students’ access,” Johnson said. Johnson also highlighted the disparity in support for residential schools as the only public schools in Alaska that had a funding reduction. 

NAEP vs. STAR: Why National Scores Miss Alaska’s Mark

The National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) often paints Alaska dim, but panelists called foul—it’s a blindfolded sprint on someone else’s track. “No one has actually seen the NAEP,” Johnson explained. It’s a random sample test, sprung on select grades and schools, with zero prep or familiarity. Worse, Alaska’s standards don’t align to it; districts teach to state goals, not this national yardstick. Enter STAR (Alaska’s state assessment): It mirrors what kids learn daily, offering a truer pulse on progress. “If we want to measure, why aren’t we measuring on Alaska standards?” echoed Aguillard, a Louisiana-transplant. STAR reveals gains—like Anchorage’s 5% math proficiency jump or Kenai’s above-state reading growth—that NAEP obscures. As Meinert put it, national optics distract from local truths: We’re climbing, just not always on their ladder. 

Growth data tells a truer story: Incremental literacy gains under the Reads Act, from the bottom 5th percentile toward the 80th. Yet math lags, demanding a renewed focus. 

Mississippi’s education turnaround is the stuff of headlines: dramatic NAEP gains after years of laser-focused investment. But as panelists like Aguillard dissected, it’s no plug-and-play for Alaska’s rugged realities. Mississippi poured eight full years into aligning every layer—from classrooms to state tests—to the NAEP framework, a deliberate, sustained bet before results bloomed. Alaska? “We had the Reads Act—I don’t mind it, I’m in favor,” Meinert said, “but we went right to the next thing: charters.” Initiatives flip too fast, diluting impact. Plus, Mississippi’s denser, more connected geography eases logistics; Alaska’s vastness—from Kuspuk’s 12,000 square miles of river-and-air-only villages to Galena’s remote academies—demands tailored strategies, not borrowed blueprints. “They invested full-on before seeing change,” Aguillard noted. For Alaskans, the lesson isn’t envy—it’s endurance: Commit deep, stay the course.

Recommendations: A Call for Sustained Vision

Superintendents didn’t just diagnose; they prescribed. A “Math Act” — modeled on Reads but fully funded — topped Meinert’s list: “Let’s invest in success, because we know it’s going to be successful with good policy.” 

Bryantt demurred, prioritizing teacher recruitment via defined-benefit pensions or Social Security — absent in Alaska, the only state without them. “These are literally the people that can do the math on their annuities,” he said, drawing applause.

Extra dollars? Slash class sizes through recurring hires (total cost: $120,000 per teacher with benefits), restore arts and regional CTE hubs, and bolster underfunded SPED in correspondence and residential programs. Update the BSA’s district cost factor — Anchorage’s baseline is obsolete; Mat-Su gets 10 percent more despite lower costs now.

Aguillard echoed the push for growth metrics over point-in-time tests, urging sustained grant stability to protect cultural programs. “Growth doesn’t happen overnight,” she said. “But one of the pieces that you can really see… is that heavy focus on reading and early literacy skills is paying off.” 

Above all, stability: “We don’t just need more funding, we need predictability,” Bryantt urged. Like Mississippi’s “miracle” — which took eight years of aligned standards, training and lower classes — Alaska requires a unified vision, adjusted for its extremes. “It’s intellectually dishonest” to transplant that template wholesale, Bryantt said. “This is one of the most expensive places on Earth.”

As the forum closed with a standing ovation for educators — “If we are going to make one investment in our future, it is in our kids,” said host Ross Johnston — the superintendents left no doubt: Alaska’s schools aren’t broken. They’re starved. With legislators convening soon, the question lingers: Will the state feed the system that feeds its future?