Texas Calls it "Relief." We Call It Robbery

Simple question: If the state can afford billion-dollar tax cuts for corporations, why can’t it afford to pay its fair share for our kids’ education? Simple question, demands a simple answer—you would think.

Let’s talk taxes. Texas’ school finance system wasn’t built to last. The “Robin Hood” plan, born out of a Texas Supreme Court ruling in 1993, was a desperate bipartisan fix, not a visionary one. Lawmakers were under court order to end an unconstitutional gap between rich and poor school districts. Their solution was to force “property-rich” districts to send local tax dollars back to the state for redistribution. It was supposed to equalize opportunity. Forty years later, it’s equalized frustration.

The state hasn’t fixed the system—it’s quietly and connivingly shifted its financial responsibility onto local taxpayers. Every time Austin brags about “historic property tax cuts,” it’s really bragging about reducing the state’s share of education funding, forcing districts like Rio Grande City Grulla ISD (RGCGISD) to fill the gap.

Now, Rio Grande City residents are being asked to shoulder yet another tax increase through a Tax Ratification Election (TRE). You’ve seen the posts: “Vote with your heart.” “It’s for the children.” But before doing that, it’s worth asking why this vote is even happening—and why it’s a symptom of a statewide failure.

When the Texas Supreme Court ruled in Edgewood ISD v. Kirby (1989), it wasn’t punishing local communities. It demanded that the state—not homeowners—take responsibility for fair school funding. Lawmakers scrambled to meet the ruling and produced a compromise that met the letter of the law but ignored its spirit.

The “recapture” system that followed let the state claim a share of local property taxes to level the playing field. But over time, as property values soared and the legislature refused to raise the state’s basic allotment—the minimum per-student funding guarantee—the math collapsed.

More than 180 districts now pay recapture, including some that were once considered “poor.” That’s not equality—it’s exhaustion. And while the system bleeds local budgets, the state boasts of “record-breaking surpluses.” Texas dances the same tired two-step: cut taxes for the wealthy and leave the burden on everyone else.

Republicans always want it both ways. The wealthy see through it. Local conservatives, nowhere near that income line, do not. Texas leaders love to talk about property tax “relief,” but the biggest breaks go to corporations and high-value homeowners. Middle-class and rural taxpayers get pennies.

Now, those same lawmakers are pushing to lock those tax cuts into the state constitution—tying the hands of future legislatures. If school funding collapses, if districts can’t afford bus routes or teachers, the state will be legally prohibited from raising revenue to fix it.

That’s how districts like RGCGISD end up cornered—raise your own rates or watch your classrooms crumble. It’s not a “money grab.” It’s a state-engineered squeeze.

Across Texas, superintendents face the same grim math. Costs for transportation, energy, and insurance climb while teacher retention collapses. The state’s per-student funding hasn’t kept up with inflation in over a decade. Districts hold Tax Ratification Elections not because they want to, but because they must. The alternative is cutting staff, programs, or maintenance while pretending things are fine.

RGCGISD’s proposal includes raises—$3,000 for teachers, $2 per hour for support staff. It’s easy to dismiss until you realize bus drivers and cafeteria workers, many earning barely above minimum wage, are the backbone of every school day. They’re the same people who kept campuses running during COVID shutdowns, who open cafeterias before dawn, who make sure classrooms stay clean and safe.

Still, the request comes with a cost that lands on homeowners already hit by inflated appraisals. It’s a genuine bind: either invest locally or watch quality erode. There’s no third option, because the state hasn’t created one—it’s too busy writing automatic tax breaks into the constitution.

The failure isn’t RGCGISD’s. It’s Austin’s.

For decades, lawmakers from both parties have promised to “reform school finance.” Yet “reform” always translates to gimmicks: temporary tax relief, new formulas, shifting numbers that look good in a press release but fix nothing.

Meanwhile, recapture expands, and the state’s share keeps shrinking. In 2008, Texas paid about 45% of public education costs. Today, it’s closer to 38%. Local taxpayers pay the rest. If that trend continues—and it will if tax caps become constitutional—Texas will reach a point where the state collects your school taxes but no longer funds your schools.

A “YES” vote on the RGCGISD TRE isn’t a blank check. It’s a stopgap. It’s choosing to keep schools afloat in a system designed to sink them. It’s a vote of faith in your community, not in Austin. But if the state keeps cutting its share while restricting how locals respond, even a “yes” only delays the next crisis.

Rio Grande City’s TRE is a symptom of a broken system. Until Texas overhauls school funding—raising the basic allotment, modernizing the formula, and restoring the state’s share—local tax battles will repeat endlessly.

At some point, the state must be held accountable for the lies it sells as “relief.” Texas leaders can only disguise neglect as reform for so long before the truth catches up. Every time they dodge responsibility, taxpayers are left with empty wallets, watching property taxes climb just to keep the lights on. Rural counties like ours aren’t asking for handouts—they’re asking for fairness. Because if Austin keeps extending its hand while calling it efficiency, there won’t be a future left for small towns like ours.

@Janie

@alvarezjanie

Copyright © 2025 Janie Alvarez for FRONTeras.