“Let’s take a dive
Torpedo girl, and feel alive
Torpedo girl, let’s take a dive
Torpedo girl, and feel alive
Come on, get your feet wet!”
― Vini Poncia / Ace Frehley

Enrollment, Evidence, and the Stories We Tell Ourselves

Last week’s column on Metro Nashville Public Schools’ continuing loss of students did what good data should do: it made people uncomfortable.

Emails came in. Comments followed. Text messages lit up. A handful of readers pushed back—not angrily, but earnestly—arguing that what they were seeing on the ground didn’t line up with what I had written. Their schools were adding students, not losing them. Their classrooms were fuller. Their parking lots more crowded.

That disconnect deserves to be addressed.

So let’s slow down, revisit the data, explain the caveats, and talk honestly about what the numbers can and cannot tell us—because the story here is not one of a single failing school or a single policy misstep. It’s a story about churn, attrition, accountability gaps, and the danger of confusing anecdote for trend.

Where the Data Comes From (and Why That Matters)

First, a baseline clarification.

Every enrollment figure I’ve cited comes directly from MNPS’s public data portal. It’s free. It’s accessible. Anyone can download it. I encourage everyone—supporters and skeptics alike—to explore it themselves.

That said, MNPS’s reporting schedule is… generous in its interpretation of “regular.”

There’s no clean, consistent year-over-year release cycle. Reports appear when they appear. Recently, the district seems to be moving toward quarterly snapshots, which would be a welcome improvement. But for now, analysts are left stitching together windows that don’t always align neatly.

Since my last piece ran, MNPS posted updated enrollment numbers dated January 1, 2026. And those numbers make the situation clearer—and more complicated.

August to January: A Longer, Harder Look

This is not the six-week window I referenced previously. This is a broader comparison, capturing nearly half the school year. It includes:

• Midyear exits
• Unrecovered fall losses
• Ongoing attrition

Here’s what that comparison shows:

• August 2025: 81,066 students
• January 2026: 78,943 students

That’s a net loss of 2,123 students in just five months.

Not projected.
Not modeled.
Not inferred.

Counted.

A Necessary Detour: Schools That “Disappear”

Before anyone reaches for rhetorical weapons, we need to address a structural issue in the data.

Some schools appear in August but not in January (or vice-versa). When datasets are merged, those entries show up as plunging to zero enrollment. These are not families fleeing buildings. They are artifacts of reporting.

They include:

• Adult education programs
• Virtual or temporary program codes
• Schools that were re-coded, merged, or suppressed between reporting cycles

In raw form, these show massive “losses”—numbers like –891, –847, –828.

Using those figures without explanation is irresponsible. MNPS would be right to dismiss them, and so should we.

I have included these entries in system totals (because MNPS includes them in August), but when identifying top gainers and losers, I’ve separated:

• Structural/reporting changes
• True school-level enrollment change

That distinction matters.

That distinction matters because too often enrollment conversations collapse nuance into accusation. Lumping structural reporting changes in with real student movement allows critics to dismiss legitimate concerns as sloppy analysis, while simultaneously giving district leadership cover to wave away uncomfortable trends. Separating coding artifacts from actual school-level change isn’t about protecting a narrative—it’s about protecting credibility. If we can’t agree on what counts as a real loss versus a bookkeeping shift, then every subsequent discussion about staffing, funding, closures, or program expansion becomes untethered from reality. Data doesn’t speak for itself, but it does demand that we speak about it honestly.

The Schools That Actually Gained Students

When we limit the analysis to schools that exist in both datasets and are consistently coded, some real growth does appear.

Here are the largest January-over-August increases:

• Hume-Fogg High School – the single largest gain
• Intrepid College Prep (Charter)
• Whites Creek High School (notable volatility following an earlier drop)
• J. E. Moss Elementary
• Eagle View Elementary
• Henry C. Maxwell Elementary
• Neely’s Bend Elementary
• H. G. Hill Middle
• MNPS Virtual School
• Isaiah T. Creswell Middle School of the Arts
• STEM Prep Academy
• Warner Elementary
• Murrell at Glenn
• Glenview Elementary
• KIPP Academy Nashville

This is where anecdotal experience often enters the conversation. Yes—some schools are growing. Yes—some buildings feel fuller. Both things can be true at the same time a district is shrinking.

Where the Losses Are Concentrated

When we look at schools that remained open and consistently coded, the largest enrollment losses are concentrated in familiar places:

• Antioch High School: –184
• McGavock High School: –184
• John Overton High School: –124
• Cane Ridge High School: –118
• Glencliff High School: –94

Once again, the pattern holds.

The decline is being driven by MNPS’s comprehensive high schools.

Not charters.
Not magnets.
Not choice programs.

Zoned high schools.

Churn Is Not New—But the Offset Is Gone

One reason this story feels counterintuitive is because MNPS has lived with massive enrollment churn for years.

It’s not uncommon to see 10,000 students enter and leave schools over the course of a year. Historically, those movements roughly offset one another, allowing district leadership to say—truthfully—that enrollment was holding steady.

That argument collapsed this year.

Between August and January:

• Nearly 9,000 students exited MNPS schools
• Only about 6,700 entered or returned

The bottom fell out.

And here’s the part that gets consistently misrepresented:

• MNPS lost over 2,100 students systemwide
• More than 2,000 of those losses came from zoned schools
• Charter schools gained 76 students

Charters are not draining MNPS.

Families are leaving the system.

Is ICE Responsible?

Several readers asked whether recent immigration enforcement activity could explain the enrollment decline. MNPS serves a large immigrant population. The question isn’t unreasonable.

But the data doesn’t support it.

National research and district experience show that immigration enforcement typically produces:

• Short-term attendance dips, not enrollment drops
• Localized effects tied to specific incidents or neighborhoods
• Temporary mobility, not mass system exit

If ICE were the primary driver, we’d expect to see sharp, clustered drops at ELP-heavy schools over a narrow window.

That’s not what the data shows.

Attendance data—what MNPS actually reports publicly—shows gradual deterioration across many school types as the year progresses. Schools losing students and schools retaining them both experience attendance slippage.

There is no clear clustering.
No smoking gun.
No pattern that screams enforcement shock.

The Missing Data That Should Alarm Everyone

Here’s where the analysis hits a wall—and where accountability truly breaks down.

MNPS reports attendance in raw student counts.
Demographics are reported in percentages.

When you attempt to convert those percentages into actual counts using the public files, you get something impossible:

• Every school reports zero Limited English Proficiency students
• No school shows increases or decreases
• No redistribution occurs
• No correlation can be made between enrollment loss and ELP concentration

That’s not reality. That’s missing data.

When comparing August and January enrollment files, MNPS reports zero English Learners systemwide in both datasets. This does not mean MNPS suddenly stopped serving multilingual students. It means the data is missing, suppressed, or excluded from public enrollment extracts.

That’s not a technical glitch.

That’s an accountability gap.

Especially when:

• Enrollment losses are concentrated in high-poverty, high-need schools
• Those schools historically enroll higher shares of English Learners
• Title III funding and ELP staffing are sensitive to small shifts

Right now, the public cannot answer basic questions:

• Are English Learners leaving at higher rates?
• Are ELP students being disproportionately displaced?
• Are schools losing ELP funding midyear?

If I were a school board member, I would demand those numbers.

Looks like time to file another FOIA.

Vouchers, Participation, and What the Comptroller Found

Some of you may not realize that Tennessee operates three separate voucher programs:

1. One for students with disabilities
2. One for low-income students in Davidson, Hamilton, and Shelby counties
3. A newly created “Education Freedom Scholarship” with a marketing budget that appears to exceed its participation rate

This week, the Tennessee Comptroller released a 163-page analysis of the second program. Reviews are mixed—and appropriately so.

The report shows:

• Program growth from 452 students to nearly 3,700
• Participation still far below the 15,000 seats authorized
• Of 98,000 eligible students, only 7,019 applied (7.2%)

The Comptroller places much of the blame on the Tennessee Department of Education.

State law requires targeted outreach to low-income families. The department failed to do that, relying instead on websites, flyers, and passive distribution.

Only after receiving a draft of the report did TDOE expand outreach—partnering with YMCAs, churches, schools, and sending postcards.

Is it enough? Probably not.

But with a commissioner headed back to Texas mid-year, it may be the best we’re going to get.

The Numbers That Raise Eyebrows

Several findings deserve closer scrutiny:

• 24–36% of ESA recipients never used their vouchers
• It’s unclear where unused funds went
• The majority of ESA students did not attend public school the prior year

In 2024-25:

• Roughly 25% came from public schools
• In Davidson and Shelby counties, many came from A-, B-, or C-rated schools
• In Hamilton County, nearly half did

This has never struck me as the knockout argument some believe it is. Students get a finite number of school years. I’ve never seen the value in forcing them to burn one just to qualify for a better option.

Sometimes perception is the intervention.

Ironically, the report also flags inconsistencies in ESA data collection, graduation tracking, and fraud prevention—suggesting TDOE is struggling with data integrity across classifications.

Sound familiar?

Parent Satisfaction (With an Asterisk)

TDOE touts 95% parent satisfaction across all three ESA years.

What they didn’t include?

Participation rates.

• 2023 survey: 96% response rate
• 2025 survey: 15% response rate

That context matters.

Again—short timers rarely worry about long-term credibility.

A Charter Application Worth Watching

A familiar name from the Music City Miracle is now making a different kind of play.

Kevin Dyson—former Titans receiver, longtime educator, and recent principal at Centennial High School—is seeking to open a charter school focused on student athletes.

Music City Academy aims to launch in 2027, offering robust athletics alongside academics and career exploration beyond playing the game.

Dyson’s story is well known. His credentials as an educator are strong. His reputation is solid.

It’s been a long time since MNPS approved a new charter.

Will this be the one?

I’ll be watching. And yes—I’ll be cheering for him.

A Quiet Election Season

School board elections are approaching, and so far, interest appears thin.

Only three candidates have filed:

• Cheryl Mayes (incumbent)
• Erin O’Hare (incumbent)
• Jennifer Bell (District 4 challenger)

Let’s hope more step forward. These decisions matter too much for apathy.

A Final Word

This isn’t corporate media.

There’s no team.
No budget.
No handlers.

It’s just me—trying to keep up, trying to keep you informed, and trying to say what others won’t.

If you value that work:

Venmo: @Thomas-Weber-10
Cash App: $PeterAveryWeber
Tips / Story Ideas: Norinrad10@yahoo.com

Until next time:

Accountability begins with accuracy—and with listening to the people closest to the work.

Categories: Education