One morning, I stood near a student’s bus stop in West Dayton. She was bundled up, earbuds in, waiting patiently at 6:45 a.m. to begin her commute to Thurgood Marshall High School. Her mother works third shift. Her only option is public transit. She rides to the downtown hub, transfers, then rides again — all to arrive by 7:25 a.m. If she misses that connection, she arrives at 8:15 a.m. — already late for class. This process isn’t isolated to our students in West Dayton. It is a common journey that many students embark on no matter where they start their day.
It’s not a perfect system. But right now, it’s the only one she has.
What’s worse is that Dayton Public Schools has no control over it. We have no authority over how the RTA sets routes, transfer points, or frequency. We’re responsible for getting students to school safely, but we don’t control the tools.
And under Ohio Revised Code 3327.01, we’re required to provide transportation not just to our own students, but to students attending chartered nonpublic and community schools across the city. In Dayton and Harrison Township alone, there are over 20 high schools. Of the 20 plus high school in the area, DPS on operates six (Belmont, Dunbar, Meadowdale, Ponitz, Thurgood, and Stivers) are operated by DPS. Still, we must divide our already thin resources to serve them all.
When we try to prioritize our own students— we are penalized.
Some may read this and think: “That’s Dayton’s issue.”
But let me be clear — this is Ohio’s issue.
Underfunded, inflexible transportation policies aren’t just hurting urban districts. Rural schools are suffering, too, facing long routes, driver shortages, and inadequate funding. Suburban districts are beginning to trim busing zones, shift bell schedules to adapt, or eliminate high school transportation all together.
What starts in Dayton ripples outward.
What breaks here may already be cracking elsewhere.
This law was written for a different time, and it no longer works. And the harm doesn’t stop with students. It cascades across our entire district. It’s time for lawmakers to modernize ORC 3327.01, allow school districts to prioritize their students, and fund transportation in ways that reflect real-world needs.
This isn’t just about buses — it’s about burnout
I recently sat across from a high school English teacher as she quietly restocked the snacks in her drawer. Crackers. Gloves. Mini deodorants. She keeps them on hand for students who come to school without what they need.
She teaches, yes — but she also fills the roles of counselor, social worker, parent, and protector. She carries student burdens in one hand and state mandates in the other.
She’s being told what she can and cannot say in her classroom. She’s balancing instructional demands with constant compliance tasks. She’s absorbing the pressure from policies passed far from the students she serves—and watching funding be pulled toward transportation requirements for schools she doesn’t even work in.
She’s not frustrated with her students. She’s frustrated with a system that keeps piling on without offering support.
And she’s not alone.
Credit: AP
Credit: AP
Teachers are under attack— legislatively
While school districts try to hold things together, the Ohio General Assembly continues to pass bills that undermine and exhaust our public educators. Among them:
- House Bill 8 (“Parents’ Bill of Rights”) – Requires teachers to notify parents if a child speaks about gender identity or mental health, even when the student isn’t ready. It forces teachers to choose between student trust and job security.
- House Bill 103 – Creates a politically appointed task force to reshape how history and civics are taught—risking censorship, whitewashing, and the loss of diverse, honest storytelling.
- Senate Bills 1 & 83 – Aim to eliminate diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts in schools and universities—sending a message that only certain identities and perspectives belong in the classroom.
- House Bill 206 – Expands student expulsions to up to 180 days at the superintendent’s discretion without requiring investments in mental health or alternative supports. Teachers are left to manage behavior without the tools to address its root causes.
All of this comes while teachers are still expected to raise test scores, build relationships, and meet the emotional needs of children.
This isn’t just bad policy, it’s unsustainable leadership.
And still, teachers show up.
But many are leaving. Quietly. Heartbroken. Burnt out. And once they’re gone — they’re gone.
We ask them to be educators, counselors, guardians, disciplinarians, and miracle workers. And when they say they can’t do it alone—we ignore them.
This isn’t sustainable. Not for them. Not for our children. Not for the future of Ohio.
We have to stop asking teachers to carry the emotional and academic weight of our entire society—while denying them the dignity, support, and freedom from the debt they gained entry to enter the profession.
Because if we don’t stand up for our teachers, we’ll wake up one day and realize there’s no one left to stand in front of the classroom.
Remember how 2020 felt when caregivers stood in for teachers?
Imagine that being our reality, indefinitely.
If we truly care about children, then we must care about the adults we’ve asked to care for them.
It’s not just teachers — everyone is carrying the weight
These burdens aren’t limited to classrooms. They are carried by every DPS employee.
When students arrive late due to unpredictable bus transfers, it’s the front office that manages the confusion. When staff leave midyear from burnout, it’s the administrators and coaches who absorb the extra work. When funds are diverted to meet state transportation mandates, it’s building leaders, custodians, HR staff, and aides who feel the squeeze in larger workloads and fewer resources.
I’ve watched building leaders do bus duty, serve lunch, cover classrooms, and rewrite school improvement plans — all in a single day. They do it because they care. But we can’t keep asking them to carry the emotional and logistical weight of a system that’s not designed to help them succeed.
To the state: Let us lead our students
To my colleagues in Columbus, I say this clearly:
ORC 3327.01 no longer fits the world we live in.
It punishes districts like Dayton for trying to serve the students we were elected to serve. It forces us to divert time, energy, and money away from the children in our care toward schools that are not held to the same public standards. I write this not to complain, but to plead for partnership.
Ohio Revised Code 3327.01 no longer reflects the structure or the demands of modern public education. By forcing public school districts to serve multiple systems with the same limited resources, you are weakening our ability to effectively serve our students.
- Let us prioritize our students.
- Stop tying our hands while demanding better results.
- Give us local control and the resources to act with integrity and urgency.
You cannot legislate your way into better outcomes while stripping away the tools and respect districts need to get there.
To the City of Dayton: It’s time to do more than talk
And to the City of Dayton — my hometown, my pride, my community — you must do more than issue statements about public safety and youth violence.
You cannot be a commentator on public education. You must become a partner.
While schools stretch to cover everything from academics to aftercare, city-owned buildings and recreation centers remain closed or underused. Teenagers need more than hall passes—they need safe spaces after school. Structured activities. Investment. Support.
You own recreation centers and public buildings that could be opened after school to give teenagers safe, structured places to be, but remain dark and underused.
You say you care about student safety.
You say you want better outcomes.
Then open the doors. Share the space. Get skin in the game.
Because schools cannot — and should not — do this alone.
If you say you support public education — then prove it
And to the public — parents, voters, neighbors—please understand:
This is not just about buses. It’s not just about teachers. It’s about the soul of public education. It’s about whether we believe schools are still worth fighting for.
We say we care about children. But if we keep overloading every adult we’ve asked to care for them, we will lose them all.
Not just the teachers. The drivers. The coaches. The support staff. The administrators. The ones who greet your child with love and structure, day after day, even as they go home exhausted.
Public schools have never stopped loving our children. The question is — when will we love them back?
Dr. Chrisondra Goodwine is the President of the Dayton Board of Education.
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