With the UAW strike against the Big Three automakers underway, much of the media coverage has focused on how the shift to EVs threatens jobs and profits.
The predominant story line is the automaker’s assertions that accommodating the union’s demands would make them uncompetitive against nonunionized domestic and foreign EV producers, such as Tesla and China’s BYD, when the automakers are making unprecedented and costly investments in EVs. On the other side of the coin, stories focus on the Big Three workers’ fear that the shift to EVs will threaten their jobs.
Lost in the shuffle is much discussion about what the changing automotive landscape is going to mean for ancillary auto-related businesses. And much of what has been written is oddly positive.
The Wall Street Journal, for example, recently ran a story about AutoZone, a major auto-parts retailer. “Broader industry dynamics remain favorable for auto parts retail,” the paper reported. “Cars on the road have reached a record average age of about 12.5 years and the share of vehicles in the so-called sweet spot with robust auto parts demand – those aged four to 12 years – are rising…Autozone has a clear path to growth…”
Don’t believe it.
Auto parts retailers are in for a shellacking.
Just as EV manufacturing will require a lot fewer workers, battery EVs are not going to need many of the products auto parts retailers sell.
I visited a massive AutoZone store in Tigard today. “Your one-stop shop for top-quality auto parts, accessories and trustworthy advice to keep your car, truck, or SUV running smoothly,” the store’s website says.
Memphis, Tennessee-based AutoZone, Inc. (NYSE: AZO) has 7,014 storesacross the United States, Mexico, Puerto Rico, Brazil and the US Virgin Islands.
A casual stroll through the Tigard store reveals the threats it faces, with shelf after shelf of products an EV owner won’t need:
“In an EV, there is no internal combustion engine, fuel tank, or fuel pumps, “ the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), points out on its website. “You won’t need to go get an oil change, and due to the use of regenerative braking, you won’t need to get your brakes changed as often either. Many EVs don’t even need or have a transmission. Those that do have a much simpler, single-speed system as opposed to the multi-speed gearboxes in gas-burning vehicles.”
Lawrence Burns, a former vice president of research and development at General Motors Co. until 2009 who now advises companies on the future of mobility, put it this way: “You don’t have an exhaust system, so you don’t have all those parts and the catalytic converter that goes with it. You don’t have the transmission. The transmission has an enormous number of parts — torque converters and clutches and gears. The automatic transmission is one of the most sophisticated mechanisms ever created. None of those are needed on an electric car.”
Tesla says its drivetrain, what provides the power to move the wheels, only has about 17 moving parts, compared to the hundreds of parts in a typical drivetrain for an internal combustion engine vehicle.
Ernst & Young has estimated that vehicles with conventional powertrains have as many as 2,000 components in their powertrains, with even more components if parts used for engine cooling and exhaust and sensors used in emissions control systems are added.
Green Car Future, an EV evangelist organization, emphasizes the difference in complexity between an EV and an internal combustion with the following:
Your Tesla – Complete Without…
Oil pump or filters
Fuel pump, filters or fuel injection systems
Air intake system
Exhaust system
Belts of any kind
Air filters (outside of a/c)
Muffler
Gudgeon pins
Chains
Alternator
Clutch
Multi-speed transmission
Conrods
Balance shafts
Spark plugs
Valve springs
Pressure regulators
Ignition leads
Main bearings
Piston rings
Coils
…and so the list goes on.
As Consumer Reports and the Argonne National Laboratory, a science and engineering research center, have reported, the reduction in complexity means EVs generally cost less for maintenance and have fewer maintenance requirements in comparison with internal combustion vehicles.
With all this, my advice to investors contemplating putting their money into auto parts retailers like AutoZone for the long term?
Congress may not be able to pass a budget, but it has time for silly resolutions.
Oregon’s man in Washington, Rep. Earl Blumenauer (D-OR) ,joined with three other House members last week to introduce a resolution (H.R.689) marking October 25, 2023, as Public Radio Music Day. Apparently, Rep. Blumenauer wasn’t able to gin up much interest from his Oregon House colleagues. Nine other members signed on as original cosponsors, but none were from Oregon.
“Public radio showcases the unique sounds and styles of our communities, reflective of the incredible diversity of our nation,” said Rep. Blumenauer. “It is only fitting to celebrate these contributions with an official designation of Public Radio Music Day.”
“Public radio has helped define generations. Since its inception, NPR has been a cornerstone of our country,” said Rep. Jake Ellzey, (R-TX). “It has grown alongside the United States, striving to keep the public informed and entertained. After all it’s done for us, I am proud to join my colleagues in designating October 25th as Public Radio Music Day.”
So, get out your oboe, guitar, piano or kazoo. It’s time to party.
“Just because I slept with you last night doesn’t mean I want to ride with you today.”
That was the sign I saw pinned to the back of a woman’s jersey as 2000 riders headed out one morning on a 1980s Cycle Oregon. I still chuckle at that cheeky message, remembering it as part of the raucous, thrilling, inspiring, joyous and demanding endeavor that was Cycle Oregon.
The adventure began with a 343-mile ride by 1,008 cyclists from Salem through Corvallis, Eugene, Florence, Coos Bay, and Gold Beach to Brookings in September 1988.
Tomorrow, Sept. 16, will be a sad day because that is when the epic festival will end, 35 years later, with 2023’s 454-mile ride from Albany, through Oregon’s wine country to the coast and back.
According to historians of the event, Ashland innkeeper Jim Beaver came up with the idea of a weeklong ride that would bring people out to rural Oregon. Hoping to drum up interest, he wrote to potential supporters in Oregon. One of those letters went to Jonathan Nicholas, a respected and widely-read columnist for The Oregonian. Nicholas jumped on the idea and with the help of other cycling enthusiasts, got it rolling. Over time he became known as the soul of Cycle Oregon.
According to The Oregonian, rising costs and lack of interest from riders, vendors and volunteers contributed to the ride’s demise. “There’s just a lot of different opportunities for people to bike nowadays so we’re seeing people not always interested in riding on the road, not always interested in riding 70 to 100 miles at a time,” said said Director Steve Schulz.
My introduction to Cycle Oregon came in early 1989 when I was a reporter at The Oregonian. I was talking about the recently inaugurated ride with my son, Evan, a strong, dedicated cyclist, when he said to me with a smirk, “Hey old man, I bet you couldn’t do it.”
That was all it took. Challenge accepted.
I’d been cycling since I was a child back in the 1940s and ‘50s. That was when kids in a small New England factory town could head out with their friends in the morning, bike all over the town and countryside and return just before dinner without a worry. I still remember one point in elementary school when my dad gave me a black 3-speed English bike for my birthday and I was the king of the hill for a little while. I kept riding as a grew older, but mostly 10-20 mile trips. I was no Tour de France candidate or even, at the age of 45 in early 1989, into touring.
My son and I signed up for Cycle Oregon II, scheduled for Sept. 10-16, 1989. The 437-mile route would take us from Portland to Rippling River, Kah-Nee-Ta, Bend, Sunriver, Crescent, Fort Klamath and end in Ashland.
About 2000 cyclists on Cycle Oregon II set off at the start from Portland to Rippling River in Welches in the lush coniferous forests of the Western Cascades.
This was no “bowling Alone” crowd. It was a ragtag group of cycling enthusiasts determined to have fun. But wouldn’t you know it; as we stood outside in the long dinner line on the first night, all ravenously hungry, they ran out of food. What a beginning! A group of us had to hike out to a restaurant along the highway where, despite the change of venue, a good time was had by all.
The second day took us to the Kah-Nee-Ta Resort & Spa in central Oregon on the Warm Springs Indian Reservation, the third day to Bend and the fourth to Sunriver Resort, giving us a chance to ride up to the Mt. Bachelor ski resort and then come screaming back down the mountain road. Day 5 hit us with numbing cold weather as we rode through lava flows, high cascade lakes and pine forests to Crescent. Then came roads through dense lodgepole pine forests, a spectacular ride up past Crater Lake and, on the last day, a jubilant ride into Ashland.
There, Evan, I did it, all 437 miles.
And I still have my t-shirt.
I did 6 more Cycle Oregons in the coming years, all joyful journeys filled with sweat, camaraderie, aching muscles, massive campgrounds, truck showers, nighttime music, wonderful solitude, starlit skies, breathtaking scenery and warm, welcoming people.
As a reporter at The Oregonian, I pitched in to help write The Cycle Oregonian, a daily paper about the ride distributed to every cyclist each morning.
I still have vivid memories of the morning on Sept. 11, 2001.
I was walking back to my tent from breakfast and encountered a group of riders listening intently to a radio broadcast. It was describing an attack on the World Trade Center in New York. We were all simply stunned. That night five of us rode to a nearby town to find a television at a bar where we saw the horrible aftermath. The next morning 2000 copies of The Oregonian showed up at camp with the full story, which we pored over at breakfast, while all away from our families. On that day’s ride I wished I had an American flag to fly on my bike.
Then there Twas the day we all woke up in Willamina with ice on our tents and sat outside on logs to eat stone-cold scrambled eggs and toast.
There was the punishingly hot hill-climbing day when I didn’t get to the lunch stop until 5PM. They had to send a school bus out from that night’s campsite to bring in me and a couple hundred other riders who would never have made it to the campsite before dark.
There was the warm, clear day we all started over some mountains in our t-shirts and later found ourselves shivering as we rode through a snowstorm. At one stop I saw a woman rider take her lunch into a cramped blue portapotty so she could eat sheltered from the wind and cold.
There was a glorious ride through the beautiful Wallowas, a ride on Wallowa Lake Tramway, an overnight in Joseph and a chance to cycle the Hells Canyon Scenic Byway.
A couple years there was a group of male riders accompanied by a monstrous luxury RV carrying a masseuse who welcomed them each afternoon with a massage.
As of tomorrow, Cycle Oregon’s classic weeklong extravaganza, a true travelling circus, is no more.
Portland’s flailing Mayor, Ted Wheeler, has a new idea, bring in ex-cons who have served decades in prison after being convicted of serious crimes, which can include murder, to patrol the city’s troubled streets.,
He wants to contract with a San Francisco-based nonprofit, Urban Alchemy (UA) that hires formerly incarcerated convicts to patrol troubled areas to address street-level issues rooted in addiction, mental illness and homelessness. The plan is for Urban Alchemy to deploy outreach patrols in the city center where Portland police have struggled to maintain patrols.
“We want to make sure that that presence, the things we need in place to keep downtown Portland on the path to recovery, is there 24/7,” said Jon Isaacs, the Portland Metro Chamber’s assistant director for public affairs.
In April, UA was awarded a five-year contract for up to $50 million to operate temporary, congregate shelter sites in Portland.
The new patrol idea is reminiscent of Curtis Sliwa’s Guardian Angles, formed in the 1970s to patrol New York’s subways and streets combat crime and violence in the city. The group, unarmed, but trained in karate and prepared to make citizens’ arrests , drew strong public reactions, positive and negative.
The New Yorker described the group as “… a civilian crime-watch group whose recruits became street icons for patrolling scuzzy subway cars, intimidating chain snatchers, making the occasional citizen’s arrest, and irritating the police.”
What are the chances Urban Alchemy will be another ill-advised fiasco for Portland?
According to a story in The Nation, UA “practitioners” or “ambassadors” guard corners and patrol Market Street, in San Francisco respond to emergency calls relating to homelessness, and monitor tent encampments and shelters. Some wear sunglasses and balaclavas with their uniform: a camouflage jacket emblazoned on the back with the group’s all-seeing-eye logo.
In February, San Francisco selected Urban Alchemy to operate a Community Response Team, a one-year, $2.75 million police alternative that would handle low-level calls about homelessness that come in via 911.
“We should be excited,” Lena Miller, who has a PhD in psychology and co-founded UA in 2018, told The Nation. “You got long-term offenders who’ve done 30, 40 years in prison. They’re the alternatives to the police. And furthermore, the police and the police unions are with it.”
But not everybody is on board.
As Mara Math of San Francisco puts it, “Urban Alchemy is not beloved here in San Francisco.”
Some criticize UA for policing public space, providing not compassionate care, but alternative policing. “It sounds good on paper,” Couper Orona, a street medic, told The Nation. “It’s a security force that can bully people into doing what they want—but it’s OK because it’s not the police.” Or as Street Sheet, a San Francisco street newspaper, put it, Urban Alchemy “…is structured to manage public space, not to address homelessness.”
Earlier this year the San Francisco Chronicle reported that Urban Alchemy faced multiple lawsuits over sexual harassment, unpaid overtime and forcing people to move without cause. Two employees wereshot in 2022l in the city’s Tenderloin district, raising concerns about placing them in dangerous scenarios without adequate training.
Street Roots, a weekly alternative newspaper that covers homeless issues, has reported on a lawsuit which alleges UA “has deployed hundreds of inadequately-trained, reformed long-term felons in public spaces to assume certain government functions traditionally performed by professionally-trained law enforcement personnel.”
CityWatch, a news and information website and newsletter, has described UA as “…an agency with questionable claims to success and an unproven business strategy. The reasons for hiring such a controversial organization run the gamut of possibilities, from being too lazy to check prior performance, to desperation to hire anyone as a sign of taking bold action…”
Based on past experience, that’s Portland’s credo. Do something, anything, to make it appear like the city is taking bold action.
Sometimes it seems like we’ve taken leave of our senses.
Narcan, the Opioid overdose-reversal drug, arrived at many Portland area stores this week, no prescription necessary.
One thing that caught my attention in media coverage of Narcan’s expanded availability was the observation that there are concerns about Narcan’s affordability for addicts. It would seem to me that if an addict can afford Opioids, surely he can afford Narcan. But that, of course, leads to another question. If an addict buys Narcan, would he administer it to himself in case of an overdose? Not likely, I’d think.
All this makes about as much sense as Multnomah County’s decision in July to distribute tinfoil, straws, glass pipes and “snorting kits” to addicts around Portland.
Fortunately, the county backtracked and suspended the initiative three days after Willamette Week disclosed the poorly thought-out plan.
“Our health department went forward with this proposal without proper implementation protocols,” said County Chair Jessica Vega Pederson. “And in that light, I am suspending the program pending further analysis.”
Meanwhile, the City of Portland has left in place, and is expanding, its “safe rest villages”.
The seven Safe Rest Villages scattered around the city offer a host of services, including laundry, showers, flush toilets garbage recycling, first aid and medical care.
But is ”rest” really what all the homeless moving into these villages need? Drive, walk or cycle around Portland day or night and you’ll encounter camps filled with people who are “resting” and when they aren’t resting too many are looking for or using drugs, breaking into cars, and stealing stuff, all sorts of stuff.
Portland Police recently recovered a steel drum, a saxophone, tattoo equipment, more than $10,000 worth of LED lighting and even a stolen litter of 3-week-old puppies from a homeless camp. In another police action in the Big Four Corners Natural Area, cleanup crews pulled out more than 150 stolen cars, tons of trash, and even some live pigs.
The problem is that while millions of dollars are being spent on these villages, residents can access all their services with no quid pro quo, in other words, without doing anything in return. A resident can literally do nothing all day and night but stew in his or her despair. What the villages don’t offer or require is meaningful work.
Wouldn’t it make more sense to organize teams of Village Rest residents to get out and paint over the graffiti that’s defacing surfaces all over the city.? Or pick up the proliferating trash and needles? Or clean up abandoned waterside campsites?
Then there’s the suggestion that adults in Oregon request a prescription for Narcan on their next visit to a pharmacy or primary care doctor, so they can rescue people who have overdosed.
The Oregonian recently ran a story about an addiction medicine nurse and a mother of two young adults who keeps a dose of Narcan in the glove compartment of her car, another in her backpack and a third dose on top of her dresser at home.
“My kids know how to use it and they know where it is,” she said. “Honestly, if you live in Portland, Oregon, you don’t know when you might be someone who comes across someone who is overdosing.”
I can see wanting to protect your children or friends, but, honestly, how realistic is it to expect an army of do-gooders carrying Narcan in their pockets and purses to intervene when they encounter a random person splayed out on a Portland sidewalk or in a tarp-covered tent? Is this really the answer to the plague of Opioids? Frankly, I even hesitate to tell somebody their smoking is bothering me.
And are well-meaning Oregonians prepared for the reactions of those administered Naloxone? Emergency workers say the reactions of overdose victims are frequently hostile.
A manuscript published by the National Library of Medicine reviewing research on Opioid overdose reversals using naloxone in New York City noted that themost reported reversal outcome included a wide range of angry, hostile and/or aggressive outbursts by the overdosed person following their return to consciousness.
One study presented sociological work that focused on violence arising from naloxone administration. The authors remarked that such aggression ‘”…tends to receive a passing mention rather than close attention by social scientists.”
And now comes word that Portland’s flailing Mayor, Ted Wheeler, wants to bring in a San Francisco-based nonprofit, Urban Alchemy, that hires formerly incarcerated convicts to patrol troubled areas to address street-level issues rooted in addiction, mental illness and homelessness. The plan is for Urban Alchemy to deploy outreach patrols in the city center where Portland police has struggled to maintain patrols.
“We want to make sure that that presence, the things we need in place to keep downtown Portland on the path to recovery, is there 24/7,” said Jon Isaacs, the Portland Metro Chamber’s assistant director for public affairs.
It’s reminiscent of Curtis Sliwa’s Guardian Angles, formed in the 1970s to patrol New York’s subways and streets combat crime and violence in the city. The group, unarmed, but trained in karate and prepared to make citizens’ arrests , drew strong public reactions, positive and negative. ” The New Yorker described the group as “… a civilian crime-watch group whose recruits became street icons for patrolling scuzzy subway cars, intimidating chain snatchers, making the occasional citizen’s arrest, and irritating the police.”
What are the chances Urban Alchemy will be another ill-advised fiasco for Portland?
In the 2015-16 school year, alarms went off when one in six K-12 children were chronically absent at Oregon’s public schools..
The legislature was so concerned it enacted a bill which directing the Oregon Department of Education and the Chief Education Office to jointly develop a statewide education plan to address the problem.
So much for that.
In the 2021-2022 school year, the most recent year for which data is available, 36.1% of Oregon’s K-12 students were chronically absent from school, absent for more than 10% of the academic year. Only Hawaii at 37%, Michigan at 38.5% and the District of Columbia at 48.1%, had higher rates of chronic absenteeism.
Children who are chronically absent in their early years of schooling are likelier than their peers to struggle to read at grade level by the end of second grade and students still struggling at the end of third grade are four times more likely to drop out of high school, according to research supported by the Annie E. Casey Foundation and the Center for Demographic Analysis, University at Albany, State University of New York.
For the worst readers, those who could not master even the basic skills by third grade, the rate is nearly six times greater.
By the ninth grade, every week a student misses reduces that student’s chance of graduating by about 20 percentage points.
“The fact that absenteeism has gone up is the biggest issue right now and has been overlooked,” says the Lewis-Sebring Director of the UChicago Consortium on School Research, Elaine Allensworth. “People keep focusing on the test scores, but our research shows over and over again that student attendance is an incredibly strong predictor of pretty much every outcome you care about: High school graduation, college ready, college enrollment, college graduation. It’s vital that students actually come to school every day.”
Oregon media have reported on rising absenteeism, but the general take has been that it is a system-wide problem. What they’ve mostly missed is the high rates of absenteeism among kids of color.
An exhaustive review of Oregon Department of Education data on absenteeism at Oregon school districts in the 2021-2022 school year reveals substantial differences in rates of absenteeism between white students and students of color.
“The long-term consequences of disengaging from school are devastating,” says Hedy Chang, executive director of Attendance Works, a nonprofit addressing chronic absenteeism. For children of color, the consequences can be particularly severe.
In other words, for all the money Oregon is pouring into its schools to improve the academic performance of kids of color, it’s not going to make any damn difference if kids of color don’t show up.
The most visible effort to deal with the homeless crisis in Portland is Safe Rest villages. “Safe Rest Villages are alternative shelters that serve as improved point of entry for Portlanders on the continuum from living on the streets to finding stability in permanent housing,” the city says.
The seven Safe Rest Villages scattered around the city offer a host of services, including laundry, showers, flush toilets, and garbage recycling as well as case management, mental health supports, recovery support Services, community advocates, first aid and medical care.
The problem is that while millions of dollars are being spent on these villages, residents can access all their services with no quid pro quo, in other words, without doing anything in return. A resident can literally do nothing all day and night but stew in his or her despair. What the villages don’t offer or require is meaningful work.
Let’s give them something to do.
Of all of President Roosevelt’s New Deal programs during the depression, the Works Progress Administration (WPA) is often hailed as one of the most successful, employing more than 8.5 million people during a troubling time for America.
WPA workers built bridges, roads, public buildings, public parks and airports. In Oregon, Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood owes its existence to the WPA as it was built by hundreds of people eager to work after suffering the effects of unemployment during the Great Depression.
On September 28, 1937, President Franklin D. Roosevelt, the First Lady, and an entourage of ninety arrived at Timberline Lodge for its dedication.
“Give a man a dole,” said Harry Hopkins, who directed the WPA, “and you save his body and destroy his spirit. Give him a job and you save both body and spirit”.
Why not try something like the WPA again in Portland?
Why not organize teams of Village Rest residents to get out and paint over the graffiti that’s defacing surfaces all over the city.? Or pick up the proliferating trash and needles? Or clean up abandoned waterside campsites?
Or try writing.
At its peak, the WPA’s Federal Writers’ Project engaged about 6,500 men and women around the country. Among those Federal Writers who went on to gain national literary reputations were novelists Nelson Algren, Saul Bellow and John Cheever, poet May Swenson and African-American writers including Ralph Ellison, Margaret Walker, Zora Neale Hurston and Richard Wright.
Ralph Ellison
Or take pictures.
During the depression, the Resettlement Administration, later replaced by the Farm Security Administration (FSA), hired Columbia University professor Roy Stryker to lead the agency’s Photographic Unit. Stryker created a team of “documentary photographers” to capture the raw emotion behind the drudgery and bring empathy to the suffering of ordinary Americans.
New Jersey-born portrait photographer Dorothea Lange worked for the FSA. She took many photographs of poverty-stricken families in squatter camps but was best known for a series of photographs of Florence Owens Thompson, a 32-year-old mother living in a camp of stranded pea pickers. One photograph of Thompson, “Migrant Mother,” became a defining symbol of the Great Depression.
Migrant Mother by Dorothea Lange
Surely we can do better than warehouse homeless people in Safe Rest Villages, Put them to work. Give them a job to do and save both body and spirit.
It looks like the really tiny town of Mitchell (pop. approx. 137) in a rugged Eastern Oregon canyon has figured out how to bring in big bucks – sponsor public virtual schools.
Mitchell, Oregon
Since Oregon enacted a charter school law in 1999, virtual charters in the state have spread like a rash, with 20 now offering online courses to some or all grades of K-12 students. Enrollment at the virtual charters in 2022-2023 was 15,711, representing 37.79% of total charter school enrollment.
Charter schools in Oregon, including virtual charters, are publicly funded, so parents don’t pay tuition. Instead, the Oregon Department of Education distributes money from the State School Fund to each school district that sponsors a charter school based upon that school’s enrollment.
Oregon law provides that a sponsoring district must pass on to its charter school at least 80 percent of its per-pupil grant for K-8 students and 95 percent of its per pupil grant for grade 9-12 students.
While the rest of Oregon school districts sponsoring virtual charter schools sponsor only one, the Mitchell School District is taking full advantage of the funding model, sponsoring three virtual public charter schools with total enrollment of 1054 students in 2022-2023:
Each of the virtual charter schools sponsored by the Mitchell School District contracts for the use of technology and curriculum from K12, a profit-driven Stride Company (NYSE: LRN).
I asked Melissa Hausmann, Head of School at all three schools, for copies of their contracts with K12 to get a better understanding of payments made by the charter schools to K12. Although Oregon Public Records law requires that a public body acknowledge receipt of a public records request within 5 business days of receipt, Hausmann has not responded to repeated requests for the contracts..
Given the voluminous data maintained by the Oregon Department of Education (ODOE), I assumed securing information on the state money going to the Mitchell School District because of its sponsorship of the three virtual charter schools would be a simple request. Accordingly, I asked ODOE:
How much money did the State School Fund distribute to the Mitchell School District for the 2022-2023 school year for each of the three virtual public charter schools the district sponsors?
School district sponsors are allowed to keep a portion of per-pupil funding provided by the state, usually 20% for K-8 schools and 5% for high schools. The rest goes to the charter school. I asked what percentage, and how many dollars, of per pupil funding provided by the state to each of these three schools was retained by the Mitchell School District in the 2022-2023 school year?
Surprisingly, ODOE said it was not the custodian of records that contained the specific information I requested. It suggested I contact the school district directly.
The Oregon Department of Education says it doesn’t know how much it is spending in support of virtual charter schools.
Mitchell School District Superintendent Vincent Swagerty acknowledged that the district had some of the records requested, but said it would cost $800 “to summarize, compile, review and forward these records.”
Oregon’s public records law allows for “reasonably calculated” fees to be imposed for responding to a public records request, but I considered an $800 fee exorbitant, prohibitive and even silly. Was the district really not able to quickly and easily find out. how much money it’s getting from the state in connection with its sponsorship of three virtual charter schools?
So I pursued an alternative, calculating estimated state payments using ODOE guidance on available data posted online by the department. A review of the Mitchell School District’s contracts with the three virtual charter schools then revealed the percentages of state school fund money passed on to the virtual charter schools.
Those calculations led to a rough estimate that the Mitchell School District retained the astonishing amount of approximately $727,000 of the state school fund money it received because of its sponsorship of the three virtual charter schools in the 2020-2021 school year.
The estimated total broke down as follows:
INSIGHT SCHOOL OF OREGON – PAINTED HILLS
The state sent an estimated $3,777,660 to the Mitchell School District. An estimated $130,656 (20% of the state’s money for students in grades 7-8) and $156,773 (5% of the state’s money for students in grades 9-12) was retained by the Mitchell School District. The remaining $3,392,445 went to Insight.
CASCADE VIRTUAL ACADEMY
The state sent an estimated $7,622,080 to the Mitchell School District. An estimated $357,764 (5% of the state’s money) was retained by the Mitchell School District. The remaining $6,797,516 (95% of the state’s money) went to Cascade.
DESTINATIONS CAREER ACADEMYOF OREGON
The state sent an estimated $1,681,164 to the Mitchell School District. An estimated $84,058 (5% of the state’s money) was retained by the Mitchell School District. The remaining $1,597,105 (95% of the state’s money) went to Destinations.
Estimate of $ retained by the Mitchell School District in 2020-2021
From Insight contract: $287,429
From Cascade contract: $357,764
From Destinations contract: $84,058
TOTAL: $729,251
Does the Mitchell School District agree with these numbers?
I asked Superintendent Swagerty. He responded that he had accepted a position in a new school district and referred me to two officials from the Mitchell School District. Neither responded to my follow-up inquiry spelling out estimated payments retained by the Mitchell School District in the 2020-2021 school year..
Whether or not my calculations are on the money, is the Mitchell School District using Oregon’s charter schools law as a cash cow to generate revenue for minimal effort?
Are the estimated 2020-2021 revenue numbers typical of annual payments retained by the Mitchell School District?
Does this put conservatives who oppose reckless government spending, but support school choice, in a quandary?
Are the district, the virtual charter schools and K12 in a parasitic relationship, each feeding off the other and Oregon taxpayers?
Is the funneling of so many taxpayer dollars to public school districts sponsoring virtual charter schools what the legislature intended with the charter school law?
For that matter, is it acceptable that the Oregon Department of Education, which dispenses millions of taxpayer dollars to school districts sponsoring virtual public charter schools, can’t, or won’t, tell the public precisely how much money it is sending to the sponsoring districts, how much those districts are keeping for themselves and how much they are sending on to the charter schools? Is that responsible governance?
The time has come for oversight that ensures public money is meeting its public purpose.
And then, of course, there’s the question of whether the taxpayer-supported virtual public charter schools are a public good in any case.
A June 2023 analysis from the US Census Bureau linked statewide education records from Oregon with earnings information from IRS records housed at the U.S. Census Bureau to provide evidence on how virtual charter students fare as young adults. “Virtual charter students have substantially worse high school graduation rates, college enrollment rates, bachelor’s degree attainment, employment rates, and earnings than students in traditional public schools,” the study concluded. “Although there is growing demand for virtual charter schools, our results suggest that students who enroll in virtual charters may face negative long-term consequences.”
BACKGROUND
Insight School of Oregon
Insight opened its doors in Oregon in 2012 as Insight School of Oregon Charter Option sponsored by the Crook County School District in Central Oregon. To operate the school, its board contracted with K12, Virtual Schools LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of publicly traded for-profit K12 Inc. (LRN:NYSE] ). Insight’s Oregon headquarters was located in a nondescript one-story office building at 603 NW. 3rd St. in Prineville.
In its first three years, Insight’s K-12 enrollment grew to more than 500 students from around the state.
But all was not well.
K12 Inc. argued that. its education program was “proven effective,” but the numbers told a different story to the Crook County School District. Even though the district netted $231,592 in the first year of its contract with Insight and $436,554 in the second, it began to have serious reservations about continuing the relationship.
In Nov. 2014, the Crook County School District sent a blistering letter to Insight expressing grave concerns about the school’s operations and academic performance. School Superintendent Dr. Duane Yecha and school board Chair Doug Smith told the school they had major concerns about Insight’s: inadequate tracking of student attendance and enrollment; academic achievement; poor test participation; low four-year graduation rate (16.18 percent in 2013-2014); and failure to meet financial requirements stipulated in the district’s contract with Insight.
“…these issues have given the district reason to consider whether Insight is able to meet its ongoing obligations under the Charter Agreement and under ORS Chapter 338,” the letter said.
In 2015, even though the district was set to net $480,710 from its sponsorship of Insight in the 2014 – 2015 school year, it decided not to renew the sponsorship.
So Insight went shopping.
It quickly found a new partner, signing a sponsorship contract with the Mitchell School District 55 on April 29, 2015. The district had just one school serving a few local kids, some teens from around Oregon and a few international high students from Germany, Thailand, and Hong Kong. The international and regional students all lived in a school dormitory at the school.
With a new sponsor in hand, Insight changed to a grade 7-12 school and renamed itself Insight School of Oregon – Painted Hills.
Another change was the financial arrangements. Under its contract with the Crook County School District, Insight had agreed to the district keeping 5 percent of the State School Fund money it received for Insight students in grades 9-12 and 20 percent of what it received for kindergarten-8 students. Under the new contract with the Mitchell School District, the district agreed to keep just 10 percent of the total State School Fund money.
Destinations Career Academy of Oregon
Destinations Career Academy of Oregon, a full-time online public charter school authorized by the Mitchell School District, began its inaugural school year on September 4, 2018. It initially served students in grades 9-11, expanding to offer 12th grade for the 2019-20 academic year.
As part of the Oregon public school system, Destinations Career Academy is tuition-free, providing parents and families the choice to access the curriculum provided by K12 Inc. (NYSE: LRN) a provider of K-12 proprietary curriculum and online education programs.
Cascade Virtual Academy
Cascade Virtual Academy, a full-time online public charter school, began its inaugural school year sponsored by the Mitchell School District on September 4, 2018, offering a tuition-free to option students statewide in kindergarten through eighth grade.
Confusingly, there is also a Cascade Virtual Academy based in Aumsville, Oregon that provides a comprehensive online education for students in grades six through 12 who live within Cascade School District #5. The district , which operates six schools, serves approximately 2,500 students living in Aumsville, Turner, and Marion, Oregon.
The Museum of Pop Culture in Seattle.,WA still displays Harry Potter memorabilia , but it has removed J.K. Rowling’s name from its Harry Potter exhibition.
Chris Moore, MoPOP’s exhibitions manager, justified the museum’s action in a 1,400-word blog post titled “She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named”.
“There’s a certain cold, heartless, joy-sucking entity in the world of Harry Potter,” Moore’s diatribe against Rowling began. “Her transphobic viewpoints are front and center these days, but we can’t forget all the other ways that she’s problematic: the support of antisemitic creators, the racial stereotypes that she used while creating characters, the incredibly white wizarding world, the fat shaming, the lack of LGBTQIA+ representation, the super-chill outlook on the bigotry and othering of those that don’t fit into the standard wizarding world, and so much more,” he continued.
On Aug. 6, 2023, MoPOP’s CEO, Michele Y. Smith, appointed in March 2023, said in a news release that the post was “a collective statement” and that “MoPOP has a commitment to diversity and inclusion leveraging the power of arts to drive social change.”
Rowling has been subjected to criticism for what some have called transphobic remarks. In June 2020, she drew outrage when she criticized an opinion piece published by a website that used the phrase “ people who menstruate.” “I’m sure there used to be a word for those people,” Rowling tweeted. “Someone help me out. Wumben? Wimpund? Woomud?”
She continued with comments about the concept of biological sex. “If sex isn’t real, there’s no same-sex attraction,” she tweeted. “If sex isn’t real, the lived reality of women globally is erased. I know and love trans people, but erasing the concept of sex removes the ability of many to meaningfully discuss their lives. It isn’t hate to speak the truth.”
On Aug. 6, actor James Dreyfus defended Rowling in an item he wrote for Spiked, a U.K. publication. “Here we go again,” he wrote. “Another institution, brimming with self-righteous faux outrage, is trying to airbrush JK Rowling’s name out of history, Once again, Rowling’s reasonable and rational defence of women’s sex-based rights is being presented disingenuously as ‘hateful’ or ‘harmful’ towards transgender people, and therefore deserving of cancellation.”
Would Josh Flagg and Tracy Tutor, cast members on the Bravo reality real estate show Million Dollar Listing Los Angeles, try to con you?
They are both highlighted as “Brand Ambassadors” of Elite 100 Agents, which claims to spotlight the top 1% of U.S. real estate agents. “Agents designated as Elite 100 members are part of a national network of the very best,” says Tutor in a promotional video for the outfit.
The problem? Elite 100 Agents is a scam.
The private organization is run by a fellow named James Espinosa out of Suite 900 at 66 West Flagler Street in Miami.
But don’t go there expecting to be ushered into Elite 100 Agents’ office with a clean, modern aesthetic that communicates success. Suite 900 is just a virtual office with live receptionist services and professional lobby greeters,something you can put on a business card.
Elite 100 Agents isn’t even registered as a business by the Florida Department of State’s Division of Corporations, something even online businesses are required to do.
“Elite 100 Agents Membership shall be limited to only 100 agents/brokers in any given geographic real estate market as per U.S. Provisional Patent #63/386,256,”the Elite 100 Agents website says. “All agents recognized as Elite 100 Agents are highly rated when measured against industry standards, including key factors such as reviews, sales and reputation for excellence.”
An email to James Espinosa requesting a copy of U.S. Provisional Patent #63/386,256 went unanswered.
So what’s required to become an esteemed member of Elite 100 Agents? A resume documenting a candidate’s academic background and real estate prowess, letters of reference, sales records, a listing of awards?
Nope.
Just pay $475 for a “Basic” membership or $675 for “Platinum” membership (“Most Popular” the site says.). Individual, group and even entire company memberships are available. There, that was easy, wasn’t it.
Basic members are promised a Personalized Plaque, a Directory Listing, access to a Discount Program, use of the Elite 100 Agents logo and their Name & Photo in The New York Times.
Platinum members are promised a Personalized Plaque, a Personalized Crystal, a Directory Listing, access to a Discount Program, use of the Elite 100 Agents logo and their Name & Photo in The New York Times.
An Elite 100 Agents Crystal
New York Times advertisement
Bonnie Heatzig, a sales associate with Douglas Elliman in Boca Raton, Fl, was so excited to be featured in a Elite 100 Agents ad in the New York Times that she posted on her LinkedIn account, “ I am elated to share I’ve been featured in The New York Times. Last Sunday, the The New York Times highlighted this year’s Elite 100 Agents. Congratulations to everyone that made the Elite 100 Agents list this year! I’d like to express my sincere gratitude to all of my clients that have trusted my expertise with their luxury real estate needs over the years.”
The Elite 100 Agents website currently lists 271 members. If they all paid $675 for the “most popular” Platinum membership, Espinosa may have already pulled in $182,925. Let’s hope the haul stops there.
But it probably won’t. These online scams just seem to proliferate like kudzu. A similar online outfit, Lawyers of Distinction, for example, claims to highlight elite attorneys, but is just a pay-to-play operation. It appears to have succeeded, however, in luring over 5,000 lawyers to pony up $475 – $775 for membership. (An expose of Lawyers of Distinction can be found here: Lawyers of Distinction: The Fraud That Won’t Die)
“There’s a sucker born every minute,” is a phrase often attributed to American showman P. T. Barnum, but it’s likely few real estate professionals have actually been duped by Elite 100 Agents, lured into believing they’ve been selected for a rare honor based on their accomplishments, when all they had to do was pay a fee.
But I wouldn’t be surprised if there aren’t clients who’ve been purposefully misled by the deception. There’s the rub.
