Students pay for enough in Ames

Tim Kearns

Like nearly every other American, I dislike taxes. No, I abhor taxes. Some are useful, some are practical and some, such as the sales tax we can reject on Tuesday, are exploitative.

For the second year in a row, Story County has put a vote on the ballot regarding a 1 percent increase in the local sales tax in order to pay for a new high school in Ames.

The need for a new high school is understandable. The need for Story County residents to vote yes on the issue is even more understandable. Still, every student should go to the effort of rejecting this tax.

It only makes sense that Story County would try to pass a sales tax, rather than pass bond issues or increased property taxes like most communities do to pay for educational development. The difference between Story County and other counties however, is a simple one. Story County is largely populated by temporary residents, and interim visitors who pump dollars into the local economy yet don’t receive any tangible benefits from most of the county’s services.

In other words, Story County wants to pass the buck from full-time residents to students. While local families will pay the sales tax, more money will come from students than from residents.

The local economy is already dependent on students who support Ames every time they spend money. When you look at who pays under either tax proposal, it’s students.

As if that wasn’t wretched enough, the way its tries to rationalize the tax increase we will have to shoulder should make you twitch with anger.

“If ISU students want top professors, they certainly want the schools in Story County to be appealing,” LaDona Rowings, Ames school board member, said in Friday’s Daily.

Provided you don’t believe in logic, it all makes sense. Ivy-league professors will flock to Ames because it will have a new high school.

There are so many problems with her statement it would be difficult to fit them in “War and Peace,” let alone one column in the Daily.

First off, she takes the ultimately naive assumption that somehow by spending more money on education, it will inherently get better.

Those of us who have been educated in public schools ought to know better. I’ve watched my schools spend millions on additions, technology and practice facilities. But the plain fact is it didn’t change the bare essentials of a school: teachers and students. If Story County were to spend the tax exclusively on raises for teachers who had been successful, I’d consider it. But my tax dollars going to pay for a building that does virtually nothing to enhance education? Even as a liberal, I laugh at the idea.

Schools aren’t improved with money. They’re improved with dedication from teachers, students and parents. A new high school gives more space. That’s it. It doesn’t magically make teachers more competent. It just adds technologies that often detract from teaching. After all, when you can just put your textbook on a video projector, why even bother teaching? Just let the technology do it.

Frankly, professors know enough to look at a district’s long-term results in education, not which school put a new floor on its basketball court or spent a million on IMacs. And if not, I guess we’ll just have to settle for attracting single, unmarried professors.

I will grant that professors would like good schools and even nice-looking schools, but they would also appreciate commerce. So, while we’re taxing, let’s raise the sales tax 2 percent! Maybe we’ll finally get a Best Buy in Ames.

What’s worse is that unlike a bond issue, this sales tax isn’t going to go away. As soon as we enact it, get used to it. We’ll be paying it forever, not just until Ames has a new high school.

While people bemoan the fact that Iowans are leaving at a record rate, it makes perfect sense in Ames. I have no interest in becoming a turncoat, simply moving from the exploited to the exploiter. It’s actions such as this that make me abandon all thought of staying in Ames, because I know I’m only welcome here because of my wallet, credit cards and checkbook.

The simple fact is that if I’m forced to choose between a quality education in a drafty old building with no air conditioning or a trumped-up education in an ultra-modern testament to apathy and misdirection, I’ll take the rustic setting.

Perhaps I’m a romantic, but I managed to learn something in those drafty old schools of mine. If I’m wrong, give me a call when Stephen Hawking gets here.