Public goods were meant for us, but corporate interests want to take them away.
Kaaha Kaahiye is showing me around Glendale Homes, where she grew up. She talks quickly and enthusiastically, pointing out a playground she used to play on and then a lush vegetable garden, a squash so big it’s pulling over its trellis. “The Hmong families always have the best gardens,” she says.
A little boy swerves past us on a bike: “’Scuse me!” he hollers over his shoulder. Kaaha moved here when she was little like that. Built in 1952, it is the oldest public housing development remaining in Minneapolis. All the others have been torn down.
Over the years, the Minneapolis Public Housing Authority (MPHA) has moved toward issuing Section 8 vouchers, a system that appears to benefit landlords more than voucher recipients. And now MPHA wants to demolish Glendale, too. Kaaha can’t imagine these happy little homes she loves so much being torn down. While MPHA says that Glendale replacement will be more public housing, Kaaha is concerned that private developers will weasel their way in. She tells me that not long ago, MPHA leased Elliot Twins, another public housing project, to the Bank of Canada for just one dollar.
“Can you imagine?” she says, shaking her head.
As we walk up the hill that Glendale is built on and look back down on the rows of tidy townhouses, you can almost feel the brand-new condos that already loom over the neighborhood closing in.
A few days earlier, I was in Baraboo, Wisconsin, helping set up chairs for a town hall hosted by the nonpartisan community organizing project Small Town and Rural Seniors. The senior citizens behind the event, most in their 70s and 80s, were huddled in a corner going through the questions they would ask when the candidates arrived.
Judy Brey of Reedsburg, Wisconsin, asked the first question: “If elected as governor, will you support a moratorium on the closure or sale of county-owned nursing homes?”
The entire room leaned in, eyes on the candidates.
Judy and many of the other seniors in the room have been in a years-long fight with their local county boards over the sale of publicly owned nursing homes to private buyers. For generations, these nursing homes have provided residents a sense of security as they and their loved ones age.
“It’s all ideological,” says Judy. “It’s not based on reason or what’s best for people.” When these homes are sold to private buyers, the quality of care goes down and the costs for families go up as the corporations who have purchased them squeeze out every last dollar of profit.
But still, many county boards are putting the nursing homes up for sale. Why? Because for two whole generations now we’ve been told that public goods are no good at all.
I was a baby when Ronald Reagan said, “The nine most terrifying words in the English language are: ‘I’m from the government, and I’m here to help.’“ I grew up, and now have raised my own child, in the long shadow of that sentiment. While the public schools I went to had libraries full of books and brand-new blacktops on which we played dodgeball, by the time my son went to school, the roof of his gym leaked into mop buckets, and he didn’t have a science teacher for two full years.
These conditions are not due to something wrong with public education; they are due to lawmakers’ stripping away all the money. We live in North Carolina, where, for the last two decades, state legislators have prioritized tax cuts for corporations and the wealthy few over public education for the rest of us. Our state now, embarrassingly, ranks 50th in public school funding.
Lawmakers now point to the leaky roofs and lack of science teachers that they caused to rationalize subsidizing privately run charter schools. In 2023, our General Assembly dramatically expanded the state’s voucher program and eliminated the income cap—diverting $4 billion in taxpayer money over the next 10 years to pay for wealthy people to send their kids to private schools.
