Rightsizing Under Enrollment, Funding & Choice Pressure

November 6, 2025.Reading time 21 minutes.

A collaboration between Lewis McLain & AI
(With suggested guidelines for any rightsizing exercise for public facilities)

I watched the McKinney ISD Board of Trustees meeting last night as they made the decision to close three elementary schools. It was emotional. It was intense. It was brutally honest from both the parents testifying and the Board members sharing about the difficulty of making hard decisions. In my own mental preparation for the event, I had put together these thoughts. Congratulations for these unpaid elected officials taking their jobs seriously. LFM

Executive Summary

Texas public education is at a turning point. Declining birth rates, smaller family sizes, flat per-student funding, the growth of homeschooling and private-school alternatives, and the weight of under-utilized facilities have combined to create a historic fiscal and structural challenge for nearly every district in the state.

For McKinney ISD (MISD), as well as neighboring Allen, Frisco, Plano, and Richardson ISDs, the question is no longer whether change is coming—it is how responsibly that change will be managed. Some campuses are now operating at 50–70 percent capacity. Maintaining them drains resources that could otherwise go to teachers, programs, and student safety.

This white paper explains why “rightsizing” through the consolidation or repurposing of under-utilized campuses is not an act of retreat but of stewardship. It details the statewide context, selection criteria, emotional and community impacts, financial rationale, and examples of how similar districts have adapted successfully. It concludes with a statement from the McKinney ISD Board of Trustees affirming both compassion and fiscal prudence—the twin obligations of public service.

1. Statewide Context: Demographics, Funding, and Choice

Demographic Shifts and Smaller Families

Texas has experienced a steady decline in birth rates since 2007, especially in inner-ring suburbs and mature neighborhoods. As families age and household sizes decrease, fewer children enter kindergarten. This “population echo” now reverberates through elementary and middle schools statewide.

In many communities, houses that once held three or four school-aged children now have one—or none. Districts built facilities for a baby boom that never fully arrived. As a result, entire wings of some campuses sit under-used, even as fixed costs for staffing, utilities, and maintenance persist.

Under-Utilization and Facility Inefficiencies

The problem is not just smaller classes—it is financial inefficiency. Schools must maintain minimum administrative and operational staff regardless of enrollment. A 350-student school costs nearly as much to operate as one with 600. When multiplied across several campuses, this structure creates unsustainable overhead and forces painful cuts elsewhere.

State Funding Constraints

The Texas Basic Allotment—the base per-student funding amount—has remained $6,160 since 2019, despite years of inflation and surging costs in special education, transportation, security, and staff benefits. Without an inflation index, the real purchasing power of that funding has fallen dramatically.

State law also limits how much local districts can raise through property taxes. Even when voters approve rate increases, state “recapture” mechanisms often offset local gains. Thus, districts are constrained between rising costs and capped revenue—a pressure cooker forcing attention to efficiency.

Homeschooling, Private Schooling, and Vouchers

During and after the COVID-19 pandemic, homeschooling surged. The Texas Home School Coalition estimates that more than 50,000 students withdraw from public schools annually to homeschool. The Johns Hopkins Homeschool Hub reports that 6.3 percent of Texas students were homeschooled in 2023–24, one of the highest rates in the nation.

Meanwhile, Christian and independent private schools have grown in Collin County, offering smaller class sizes and faith-based curricula. In 2025, Governor Greg Abbott signed Senate Bill 2, creating one of the nation’s largest Education Savings Account (voucher) programs, allowing parents to use public funds for private tuition or homeschool expenses.

The result is unprecedented school-choice migration—and an enrollment base for public districts that is smaller and more fluid than ever before.

Combined Implications

When birth-rate decline, small family size, school choice, and flat funding converge, no district can sustain the same footprint it built for 1990s-era growth. Rightsizing is not optional—it is essential to preserve program quality and teacher stability.

2. How Districts Choose Schools to Close or Consolidate

Purpose of a Transparent, Data-Driven Process

A closure or consolidation plan must rest on objective, measurable factors, not intuition or politics. A transparent rubric ensures fairness, maintains public trust, and demonstrates that each decision was made for both fiscal and educational reasons.

Proposed Selection Rubric (for MISD)

Factor	Weight	Description
Utilization & Enrollment Trend	30%	Measures capacity use and 3- to 5-year enrollment trajectory.
Facility Condition & Life-Cycle Cost	20%	Evaluates the physical condition, deferred maintenance, and modernization needs of each building.
Operating Cost per Pupil	15%	Compares per-student costs in staffing, utilities, and transportation.
Academic & Program Fit	15%	Protects unique programs (dual-language, IB, SPED) and ensures receiving schools can sustain them.
Geography & Attendance Boundaries	10%	Considers distance, neighborhood continuity, and travel time.
Reuse or Repurpose Potential	10%	Assesses whether the facility can become an early childhood center, alternative program site, or community resource.

Transparency Requirements

Publish campus scorecards showing utilization, cost per student, and FCI (Facility Condition Index).
Provide five-year financial projections including both transition costs and long-term savings.
Identify receiving schools, showing enrollment impacts and program continuity.
Announce reuse plans for each closed campus before the final vote.

Alignment with TEA

The Texas Education Agency requires that displaced students be moved to equal or higher-performing schools, and that transition and communication plans be publicly documented. Following TEA guidelines not only protects equity but strengthens community confidence.

3. Community Reactions, Adaptation, and What Works

Emotional and Practical Impacts

A school is more than a building—it is the heart of a neighborhood. Closures evoke grief, nostalgia, and resistance. Teachers feel displaced; parents feel unheard; students feel uncertain. Without empathy and transparency, even financially sound decisions can damage community trust.

Common Concerns

Fear of losing a neighborhood’s identity and “walkable” campus.
Anxiety about longer commutes or split friend groups.
Confusion about program continuity.
Concern for staff job security.
Worry about abandoned or blighted buildings.

Mitigation Strategies

Announce changes early and publish all relevant data.
Guarantee staff retention and re-assignment where possible.
Provide grandfathering options for current students and siblings.
Host family transition events, campus tours, and summer “bridge” programs.
Commit to clear reuse or redevelopment of closed facilities (early childhood centers, adult learning, community hubs).
Monitor post-closure academic and social outcomes for at least two years.

Examples of Successful Adaptation

The Texas Education Agency’s “Close & Consolidate” study found measurable academic gains when students moved to higher-performing campuses.
Aldine ISD (2024–25) closed nine campuses but retained 90 % of affected staff, redeployed programs effectively, and reported improved morale after transition.
Richardson ISD’s “Project RightSize” (2024) consolidated five elementaries, saving millions in fixed costs and redirecting funds to instruction.

4. North Collin County and Regional Snapshots

McKinney ISD

McKinney ISD’s Educational Facilities Alignment Committee (EFAC) is evaluating capacity, enrollment, and program distribution. Growth remains robust in the northern sector but stagnant in older southern zones. The committee is expected to recommend three elementary closures or repurposings.

Public comments reveal both empathy and apprehension—citizens want transparency, data, and fairness. The Board’s challenge will be to combine fiscal necessity with relational sensitivity.

Allen ISD

Allen ISD closed two elementary schools in 2022 amid rising costs and softening enrollment. The experience demonstrated that affluent districts are not immune to demographic shifts. Public protests underscored the importance of pacing and communication.

Frisco ISD

On October 20, 2025, Frisco ISD voted to close Staley Middle School after 2025–26. The district’s extensive public transition website—maps, FAQs, and staff updates—became a statewide model for transparent closure management.

Plano ISD

Plano ISD, long a symbol of suburban stability, saw utilization drop from roughly 85 % to 73 % between 2011–12 and 2024. In June 2024, the board voted to close four campuses—Davis Elementary, Forman Elementary, Armstrong Middle, and Carpenter Middle School—saving an estimated $5 million annually. The district emphasized facility repurposing, not abandonment, and made strong commitments to staff and families.

Richardson ISD

In March 2024, RISD approved the consolidation of five elementary campuses under “Project RightSize.” The district cited 9,000 empty seats and forecasted a multi-million-dollar deficit if action was not taken. Though community opposition was emotional, the board framed the plan as the only way to preserve academic integrity and staff quality. Transition support programs helped soften the impact by fall 2025.

5. School Choice, Homeschooling & Vouchers: The New Landscape

Texas now operates under the broadest school-choice environment in its history. Homeschool enrollment is stable at record levels, and private Christian and micro-schools are multiplying across Collin County.

The 2025 Education Savings Account (ESA) law magnifies the effect: state dollars now follow the student, not necessarily the district. While this empowers parents, it erodes the financial base of public schools, particularly suburban districts where private options abound.

For MISD, this means that right-sizing must anticipate—not just respond to—choice migration. A campus that is 70 percent full today could be 50 percent full in three years as vouchers take effect. Incorporating “choice leakage” into enrollment projections ensures that the district consolidates preemptively rather than reactively.

6. Financial Rationale and Reinvestment

Recurring Savings

Reduced administrative and support duplication (principal, AP, counselor, nurse, librarian).
Lower utilities, custodial, and security costs.
Avoided capital costs on roofs, HVAC, and deferred maintenance.

One-Time Transition Costs

Moving, signage, and relocation logistics.
Transportation route adjustments.
Stipends and placement assistance for reassigned staff.
Communications, summer bridge, and orientation programming.

Five-Year Net Impact

Typical closure/consolidation recovers transition costs by Year 2–3 and generates net savings thereafter, which can be reinvested into:

Teacher salaries and recruitment
Technology and curriculum innovation
Safety upgrades
New program initiatives

Reinvestment Transparency

The Board should publish a Reinvestment Report annually, showing where every dollar saved has been redirected to enhance student learning.

7. Governance, Process, and Timeline

Phase 1 — Data and Transparency:
Release campus scorecards and utilization data. Launch a public portal.
Phase 2 — Engagement:
Host listening sessions, surveys, and online Q&A forums.
Phase 3 — Recommendation:
Present shortlist of campuses, financial models, and reuse plans.
Phase 4 — Board Decision:
Conduct public workshop and final vote.
Phase 5 — Transition & Support:
Implement student/staff relocation, launch counseling and welcome events.
Phase 6 — Review & Reporting:
Publish one- and two-year outcome reports (achievement, travel time, cost savings, climate survey).

A “Right-Sizing Advisory Council” should remain active through the first post-closure year to monitor impacts and advise on adjustments.

8. Ethical and Emotional Imperatives

The heart of public education is people, not property. The moral duty of a school board is twofold: to care for the community it serves and to steward the resources entrusted to it.

Empathy and accountability must coexist. Compassion without discipline leads to insolvency; discipline without compassion leads to distrust. Balancing the two is the essence of leadership.

9. Lessons from Research and Experience

When done well, consolidations improve academic outcomes and staff morale within 24 months.
When done poorly, they damage trust, depress morale, and can worsen achievement.
Success requires early communication, equitable selection, strong receiving campuses, and clear reinvestment of savings.
Closed schools must never become “ghost campuses.” Reuse or redevelopment is part of closure responsibility.

10. Trustee Decision Framework

Approve the evaluation rubric.
Publish full data and financial analyses.
Conduct engagement and document all feedback.
Finalize closure and reuse recommendations.
Adopt the board resolution publicly.
Provide ongoing transparency through implementation.
Measure results and adjust annually.
Reinvest all savings visibly in instruction and staff.

11. What We May Have Left Out

Bond obligations and facility debt implications.
Teacher morale and retention post-closure.
Equity analyses for affected neighborhoods.
Land-use policy for repurposed campuses.
Ongoing public reporting standards.

12. My Version of the Heartfelt Statement from the McKinney ISD Board of Trustees.

To the Families, Staff, and Students of McKinney ISD:

No decision before this Board has weighed more heavily on our hearts than the prospect of closing schools. Each of us entered public service because we believe in the power of education to build lives and strengthen neighborhoods. Many of us have children or grandchildren who attend these very campuses. We understand the depth of history, friendship, and pride bound up in each school community.

Yet we must also confront a difficult reality. Across Texas, districts are facing unprecedented financial and demographic pressures: smaller family sizes, fewer kindergarten enrollments, the rapid growth of homeschooling and private-school alternatives, and a state funding structure that has not kept pace with inflation. The State limits our ability to raise local revenue; each additional dollar of tax effort is constrained by statute. Without prudent consolidation, the only alternatives would be to raise taxes again or make deeper cuts to the very programs that sustain quality instruction. Neither option serves our students well.

The decision to consolidate schools is not a reflection of failure but an act of stewardship — ensuring that McKinney ISD can continue to offer excellent teachers, safe facilities, and robust academic and extracurricular opportunities to all children. We make this choice with both compassion and resolve: compassion for the families who will experience change, and resolve to honor every student and staff member through a thoughtful transition.

In truth, there has never been a local government or public organization that has not, at some point, faced the most fundamental fiscal challenge of all: the reallocation of resources. McKinney ISD is not a static institution but a living organism that breathes, grows, and adapts with its community. If we had possessed perfect foresight decades ago—perfect population forecasts, perfect funding formulas—it is likely that several of our current campuses would never have been built in the first place. Our obligation today is to act with the wisdom we now have, to realign our facilities with the realities of our time, and to preserve the long-term health of the district.

We ask for understanding and patience as we navigate this process together. History and experience show that, while transitions are painful, communities adapt, students thrive, and new bonds form. Our promise is to communicate openly, listen honestly, and invest every saved dollar back into teaching and learning where it belongs.

Fiscal prudence and heartfelt compassion are not opposites; they are the twin obligations of public service. It is in that spirit—balancing empathy with responsibility—that this Board moves forward. We remain, as ever, committed to every child, every teacher, and every neighborhood that makes McKinney ISD the district it is today.

Signed,
The Board of Trustees of the McKinney Independent School District

13. Conclusion / Closing Thought

There has likely never been a city, county, or school district that has not wrestled with the same enduring challenge: how to reallocate finite resources to meet changing needs. That is not a failure—it is the natural rhythm of responsible governance.

McKinney ISD, like the community it serves, is a living organism. It grows, breathes, adapts, and learns. As neighborhoods mature and student populations shift, the district must respond with foresight and balance. If we had possessed perfect information decades ago, several campuses might never have been built—but foresight was limited, and optimism was high. Today, with clearer data and the benefit of experience, we have the duty to act wisely.

Rightsizing is not the end of McKinney’s story—it is a new chapter. It ensures that teachers remain supported, programs remain strong, and every child continues to learn in an environment that is safe, efficient, and sustainable. Change is difficult, but so is growth; both are signs of life.

In that spirit, McKinney ISD moves forward—with empathy for those affected, gratitude for those who serve, and confidence that the steps taken today will protect the strength of public education for decades to come.

Building Bridges in Early Childhood Special Education Programs

October 26, 2025.Reading time 13 minutes.

By Lindsey McLain, assisted by AI
lindseymclain17@gmail.com
Picture by proud Granddad as he listens to her stories!

Working with children with autism spectrum disorder is not just my career—it is my calling. My passion for special education began long before I entered the classroom as a teacher. In eighth grade at Faubion Middle School, I joined the Partners PE program—a life-changing experience that introduced me to the joy of working alongside students with disabilities. I didn’t know it then, but that program would be the beginning of finding my career.

Every day with my three- to five-year-old students reminds me that education is less about rigid lessons and more about relationships, trust, and patience. My years of experience supporting children of all ages with autism spectrum disorder, both in college and now in the classroom, have shaped the way I see teaching: as a bridge between worlds.

Trust as the First Lesson

Before I can expect children to learn letters, numbers, or colors, I have to show them that I am safe, consistent, and trustworthy. Building that relationship is the first lesson I teach, though I don’t do it with words. I do it with presence, with predictable routines, and with gentle encouragement. Only when a child trusts me can they begin to risk trying something new.

In my classroom, trust starts by connecting with what each child loves. Some of my students enjoy running and climbing on the playground, while others prefer sitting quietly with a favorite toy. Some love Eric Carle’s colorful storybooks, while others are captivated by anything with wheels or that flies. I use their preferences to build bridges—to join their world before asking them to join mine. When they see that I value what brings them joy, trust begins to grow.

Individual Needs, Individual Paths

No two children are alike, and no two learning journeys are the same. Some of my students need visual schedules to feel grounded. Others need sensory breaks to regain balance. Some thrive in structured play but struggle with transitions. My responsibility is to make sure every child is getting what they need. True fairness in special education isn’t sameness—it’s tailoring learning so that each child has a path forward.

I continue to learn how to adapt materials and instruction for my students. Recently, I was given the opportunity to go through an AAC (Augmentative and Alternative Communication) device training. Using what I learned, I now tailor communication to meet each student’s needs. Some of my students can access many words on their devices, while others focus on functional language—simple but powerful words like go, stop, and help. In the same classroom, I have children who can count to 100, read, and write simple words, and others who are still learning how to share preferred items or take turns. Each child’s growth is unique, and each one reminds me that progress comes in many forms.

Patience and the Pace of Progress

In the first month of school, my students were still learning to adjust to me as their teacher. They didn’t respond to my directions right away, and I quickly realized that relationships must come before expectations. In special education, we often say that progress is not linear—and it’s true. Growth happens at the student’s pace, not mine. Watching my students slowly build trust and routine has taught me to pause not just in my teaching, but in my own daily life. The slower I move, the more I notice the beauty in every little step forward.

Adapting Materials, Adapting Expectations

Every day I adapt. A worksheet might become a hands-on sorting activity, a storybook may come alive with picture cards, and a group activity might start one-on-one before a child joins peers. Adapting does not mean lowering expectations—it means clearing a path so the child can succeed. Flexibility is the tool that opens doors.

I’ve also learned that not all students learn best in the same way. Some benefit from tangible, hands-on experiences—holding real objects as they learn to identify them—while others respond better to visual supports like picture cards or digital images. For example, when working on identifying common objects, one child might need to touch and explore the physical item, while another can easily match it on a communication board. Differentiating materials this way allows each child to access learning in the way that fits them best.

Seeing Through Their Eyes

Teaching children with autism spectrum disorder means constantly trying to see the world through their eyes. What feels overwhelming to one child might be soothing to another. What looks like resistance may really be a need for predictability. The more I step into their perspective, the better I understand their needs—and the more compassion grows in me as a teacher.

Over time, I’ve learned that communication isn’t always spoken. Many of my students express their needs through subtle nonverbal cues—a shift in body language, a glance away, covering their ears, or beginning to pace. These moments often tell me more than words ever could. When I notice a child’s shoulders tense, their breathing quicken, or their focus fade, I know it’s time to pause. They may need a sensory break, help with a task, or simply a moment to feel safe again.

I’ve also come to understand that all behavior is communication. Sometimes a child might cry, run away, or throw items—not out of defiance, but out of frustration, fear, or an unmet need. Every action, whether it’s laughter, avoidance, or a meltdown, carries meaning. It’s my job to look beneath the surface and ask why a behavior is happening—what the child is trying to tell me through their actions.

Learning to read these signals has been one of the most powerful parts of my teaching journey. It reminds me that listening goes far beyond hearing words—it’s about observing, understanding, and responding with empathy. When I take the time to notice and respond with care, my students feel seen, supported, and understood.

Partnering with Families

I am also beginning to see the importance of resources for parents. Families often want to understand how to best support their children at home, and I’ve learned that open communication and sharing tools—like visuals, routines, and sensory supports—makes a huge difference. During my first parent-teacher conferences, I was able to share the progress I’d seen: new words, increased independence, and more engagement during group time. Seeing parents’ faces light up with pride reminded me why I love what I do.

Love, Smiles, and Joy

At the heart of my motivation is love—the love I give and the love I receive. It shows up in the smiles when a child recognizes me in the morning, in the laughter that bursts out during play, and in the quiet joy of a breakthrough moment. These children teach me as much about joy as I teach them about learning. Their small wins are also my wins. Their happiness, however fleeting, is a reminder of why I chose this path. Love is not just the motivation for teaching—it is the reward.

Now that I finally have a classroom of my own—two classes, ten students, and more to come—I feel the deep responsibility and joy of shaping a learning environment from the ground up. Every day brings new discoveries, laughter, and lessons. Watching my students love, smile, grow, and enjoy life just like all children do reaffirms that they are not defined by their challenges, but by their potential.

Celebrating the Small Wins

In my classroom, there is no such thing as a “small” win. Every word spoken, every step toward independence, and every positive interaction with a peer is cause for celebration. These victories remind the children—and me—that progress is real and possible. They build confidence and keep us moving forward together.

One of my favorite recent moments came during school picture day. One of my students was very nervous and hid their face when it was time for their photo. Their mother had been so excited to see their first school pictures and was eagerly looking forward to them. We decided to try again about an hour later, after the student had some time to feel calm and comfortable. This time, they walked up with confidence and gave the biggest smile. When their mother saw the photos, her face lit up with joy. That small moment reminded me that success doesn’t always come on the first try—sometimes it blooms quietly after patience, trust, and encouragement.

Conclusion: A Program of Hope

Teaching children with autism spectrum disorder is about more than academics. It is about dignity, relationship, and hope. My classroom is a place where every child can learn and grow at their own pace, supported and understood. It is a place where I adapt, celebrate, and most importantly—love.

McKinney ISD’s special education program is entering a new chapter with recent leadership changes, and I believe this will bring fresh opportunities for growth, collaboration, and advocacy. With continued focus on supporting teachers and families, we can keep building programs that meet every child where they are.

These children may see the world differently, but through their eyes, I have learned to see beauty, courage, and joy in ways I never imagined. Every day, I am reminded that teaching isn’t just about shaping their future—it’s about allowing them to shape mine.