As the Your Voice Ohio media team crosses the state listening to people in communities such as Marion, Youngstown, Columbus and rural Washington Court House, the idea arises of Ohio as a confederacy of local governments, some hot on identity and power with lack of regard for people whose life experiences or mental conditions are different.
The addiction crisis has made that vividly clear. Someday, later generations will draw a bright red circle in the Ohio history books, when 4,000 were dying yearly of overdoses, and ask, “What were those people thinking?”
But scratch that. Ohio would need up-to-date history books to make that discovery, which is where my experience with local control begins.
In 1996-97, Beacon Journal reporter Dennis J. Willard and I toured school buildings in the state studying whether all children were receiving an adequate public education. Some buildings were using 20-year-old texts. One had scaffolding around the deteriorating exterior to protect children from falling bricks. The answer to the question of equity and adequacy in education was unequivocally, “No.”
The Ohio Supreme Court agreed in 1997, ruling that Ohio’s philosophy of education as a local responsibility was unconstitutional and ordered the legislature and governor to define adequate education, then fund it.
Justice Paul Pfeifer described the situation as “unconscionable.” Of the dissenting minority that preferred to punt to the legislature and its local-control tendencies, Pfeifer said: “They would require us to ignore coal bin classrooms, free-floating asbestos fibers, leaking roofs, and arsenic-laced water. … ”
Here’s where the dark truth emerges: Rather than take responsibility for adequately educating all 1.8 million schoolchildren, the legislature chose to defy the justices and make jokes. How? The Ohio Supreme Court is elected.
Republican leadership commenced fundraising and recruited court candidates inclined toward local control.
At a breakfast of Ohio Republicans at the 2000 national convention, then Senate President Dick Finan introduced the candidates and segued into a story something like this:
A guy was buckled into his seat as his plane taxied out for takeoff. Suddenly it turned back toward the terminal.
The man stopped a flight attendant, “What’s going on?”
She replied: “The pilot heard a sound he didn’t like, so we’re going back.”
The man asked: “Are we getting another plane?”
She said: “No, we’re getting another pilot.”
Lack of concern for children. And Ohio crashed.
Since the court’s DeRolph ruling, Ohio has fallen from 20th for percentage of the population with a high school diploma to 25th, according to the U.S. Census. For a bachelor’s degree, we plunged from 27th to 37th. Yes, 10 rungs in 20 years.
And where are the children who graduated from public schools since the court ruling? They’re in the age group with the highest death rates for opioid overdoses.
But don’t blame education. Blame the confederacy.
Ohio’s overdose death rate is second only to West Virginia. Eight states have declared a state of emergency, allowing them to gather real-time data at central command and concentrate resources where needed.
Not Ohio. Ohio made money available for overdose antidotes, but counties have to apply. Some counties with high death rates have not done so. Ohio made it legal to operate life-saving needle exchanges, but many counties don’t. Some community officials prefer retribution rather than care.
The state could fix that. But it hasn’t.
As Your Voice Ohio listened to Ohioans, we compiled a list of actions people believe necessary to fix the crisis, and among them were overdose kits, needle exchanges and coping skills for kids in crisis — in the schools. What are the chances that will get funded?
As the Your Voice Ohio project turns to envisioning a move vibrant Ohio, what must we do to create vibrancy?
Jason Segedy, Akron city planning director, tweeted after the recent city population reports: “Midwest and Northeast cities continue to struggle, strangled by fragmented local government, which dilutes power & influence.”
He is an advocate for a sense of place and meanwhile critical of the multiple layers of local governments. About 20 years ago, I counted all the independent governing agencies in the Akron-Canton area of about 1 million people — we have about 400. Ridiculous.
Meanwhile, children suffer and, well, we won’t know exactly who died of overdoses in Ohio in 2017 until August. Ohio hardly feels like a real-time state of emergency. That’s a local matter.
