As Wisconsin schools struggle to stay afloat, the toll on communities intensifies
Republicans in control of the state Legislature say Gov. Tony Evers’ budget proposals, including his plan to increase school funding, are ‘dead on arrival.’

On the night of Feb. 18, Renee Bailey was with some of her friends at High Steaks Bar & Grill in downtown Mauston, where they listened to the results of the Mauston School District referendum on funding pour in over the local radio station.
Bailey and other Mauston residents have been worried over the past few months that their school district could close after voters rejected two previous referendums last April and November. The referendum asked voters to allow the district to increase its funding by $1.75 million annually for the next four years. If the referendum failed again, officials warned, the school district would have to close due to lack of funding.
Mauston isn’t alone. Across the state, more and more Wisconsin schools have been forced to turn to voters to increase funding through referendums as state funding lags and enrollment declines. School districts have relied on referendums to keep operating and keep up with maintenance needs, and some districts have been forced to close schools or have been at risk of shuttering altogether.
Democratic Gov. Tony Evers proposed in his upcoming budget to increase K-12 funding by $3.15 billion. But Republicans in control of the state Legislature and the Joint Finance Committee, which makes decisions on the budget, said that most of Evers’ budget proposals would be “dead on arrival.”
When Mauston’s second referendum failed in November, it was heartbreaking, said Bailey, a mom of two students whose husband is a school resource officer in the district. But the small community of just over 4,000 people quickly picked up the pieces, she said, and started to rally together to try to save the school. Supporters held information sessions and made T-shirts and yard signs, businesses started speaking out, and the local radio station started airing interviews of alumni every morning.
On the night of the election, High Steaks was filled with people dressed in blue and gold, Mauston’s school colors, cheering as the tally totals came in. The referendum passed with about 66% of the vote.
“When the final tally came through and we had won, I mean, there wasn’t a dry eye in the place. It was amazing. We were happy, we were cheering, we were crying, and everybody was hugging,” Bailey said. “I couldn’t wait to go tell my kids.”
The school district is a foundational piece of the community, Bailey said. It’s where residents go on Tuesday nights to watch basketball games and where neighbors mingle over FFA pancake suppers. When Bailey and her husband first moved to Mauston 20 years ago, they knew no one. But as they had kids, who are now eighth and fifth graders, they started to form friendships and connections through the school, from teachers to other parents cheering on the soccer field sidelines.
While the community waited in limbo over the last few months, though, the conversations her friends were having in the stands of basketball games turned into discussions about where everyone would send their kids to school or move to if the Mauston School District closed. It was somber listening to the plans, Bailey said, realizing they might not all end up in the same place.
“I’m not done making memories. I need more pictures of my friends with their kids and my kids with their friends,” Bailey said. “I can’t imagine trying to find a new school or moving on. This is my life, my world.”
The school’s potential closure would have been devastating for the entire community, said Jess Kayhart, a mom of three and real estate agent currently running for the Mauston School Board. She predicted that as many as 100 teachers and families might have immediately moved out of the district if the referendum had failed.
Over the past few months, prospective homebuyers have turned to other communities after spotting the referendum signs in Mauston yards, Kayhart said. She gives community tours to physicians interviewing at the local hospital, and a few candidates said they might wait until the election to decide on whether they would take the job.
Bailey said Mauston’s business owners were the driving force behind the support for the referendum because they know how much they rely on the schools. Families go to local restaurants after school events, and businesses sponsor teams and have their logos on the backs of soccer jerseys. If the school closes, people would move out of town, taking their business with them.
“It’s sad because our community has grown so much in the decade that I’ve lived here. Just to see the new businesses start, the people that genuinely care about it, all of these grassroots things that have been happening that would have immediately stopped, because the school is what gives life to all of these things,” Kayhart said.
Referendums are also stoking more division in communities, Kayhart said, a fallout that she said isn’t talked about as much or considered by state leaders. In Mauston, she said, personal attacks were hurled at school staff and school board members over their salaries, and misinformation about the school district’s fiscal responsibility swirled.
While the referendum gives Mauston the funding to stay open for at least the next four years, the residents know more needs to be done to sustain their school — and others around the state — long term.
“At the end of the day, the funding from the state is insufficient, and the general feeling from the state legislator representatives, Senate members, is that we’re kind of on our own,” Kayhart said. “It’s really sad to feel that way, but I think there are a lot of plans to advocate for increased school funding and a change to the funding model at the state level. So we’re excited about being a part of that.”