“Politics is like dice: the better the player, the worse the man.”
― C.J. Sansom, Heartstone

The Fourth of July has always been my favorite holiday.

Growing up, it marked the unofficial beginning of summer, when city folks would begin their annual migration to our little summer hideaway. For a kid, there wasn’t much more you could ask for. Days were spent swimming until your fingers wrinkled, eating far too many hot dogs and hamburgers, celebrating the birth of my favorite nation, and waiting for darkness so the fireworks could begin.

To me, it was always a pure holiday.

No agendas.

No speeches.

Just family, friends, neighbors, and the celebration of the greatest experiment in self-government the world has ever known.

There is a time and a place to debate America’s failures. Lord knows we have them. Like every family, every community, and every person, this country is imperfect.

The Fourth of July ain’t it.

It would be like throwing someone a birthday party only to spend the afternoon reminding everyone about the time they cheated on their spouse, skipped volunteering at the local food bank, or lied to their boss.

“Hey, remember that time you…”

You get the picture.

There are 364 other days each year to argue politics, revisit history, and debate where America has fallen short.

The Fourth is about gratitude.

It’s about neighbors gathering around backyard grills.

It’s about children running through sprinklers while adults argue over whether charcoal still beats propane.

It’s about small-town parades, American flags hanging from front porches, and fireworks that somehow never get old.

Most of all, it’s about remembering what we value.

I hope y’all have a fantastic holiday, whether you’re spending it at the beach, in the backyard, on the lake, or downtown watching the fireworks.

Eat an extra burger for me.

Or, if you absolutely must…

…a black bean burger.

Holidays have a funny way of reminding us what matters.

Politics does too.

Every budget.

Every appointment.

Every policy decision.

Every campaign promise.

Eventually they all answer the same question:

What do we value?

Over the past month, Tennessee has provided several fascinating answers.

Some have come from candidates running for governor.

Some have come from one of the state’s most influential education organizations.

Some have come from Metro Nashville Public Schools.

And while they may appear to be separate stories, they all point to the same larger question:

Who is really keeping score in Tennessee education?

July also marks the point when campaign season begins shifting into high gear.

Here in Tennessee, however, “campaign” may be giving this governor’s race more credit than it deserves.

Right now, it feels more like a coronation than a contest.

On the Republican side, Senator Marsha Blackburn continues to enjoy a comfortable double-digit lead over Monty Fritts and Jim Rose. Unless something dramatic changes, neither challenger appears positioned to make this particularly competitive.

Democrats, meanwhile, appear ready to nominate Memphis City Councilwoman Jerri Green.

Once again, Tennessee Democrats seem more interested in explaining why they can’t win statewide elections than figuring out how to win them.

That may sound harsh.

But elections are about persuasion.

Politics is perception.

And right or wrong, Memphis continues to struggle with its image across much of Tennessee. Recent census estimates showed it was the only major city in the state losing population. Its school district is now operating under a newly created state oversight board.

Fair or unfair, those realities shape how voters think.

So if you’re trying to persuade voters in East Tennessee, Middle Tennessee, or suburban counties surrounding Nashville, beginning with a candidate whose political identity is closely tied to Memphis presents an uphill climb.

Yet here we are again.

The governor’s race matters for reasons extending well beyond the Governor’s Mansion.

Whoever wins will almost certainly appoint Tennessee’s next Commissioner of Education.

That single appointment could influence education policy for years.

The last four commissioners have all emerged from the same general education reform ecosystem, with connections to Jeb Bush’s ExcelinEd and Chiefs for Change.

Maybe that’s coincidence.

Maybe it isn’t.

This year, however, something feels different.

If you want to understand where Tennessee education policy may be headed next, don’t just watch the governor’s race.

Watch the organizations helping shape the governor’s choices.

Near the center of that conversation sits the State Collaborative on Reforming Education.

Most people simply know it as SCORE.

Founded in 2009 by former U.S. Senator Bill Frist, SCORE describes its mission as improving education from kindergarten through career. It researches education policy, advocates for teachers, publishes reports, and promotes statewide initiatives designed to improve student achievement.

All of which sounds very good…

…if you say it fast.

Over the last decade and a half, SCORE has quietly become one of the most influential education organizations in Tennessee despite never appearing on a ballot.

The organization has championed the Science of Reading, standardized testing, teacher effectiveness measures, and major changes to school funding.

At times, SCORE has functioned almost like a de facto Department of Education. For several years, it even funded a position within the Tennessee Department of Education itself.

Why one private nonprofit enjoys that singular privilege has always struck me as a fair question.

SCORE also enjoys reminding Tennesseans that our state became the fastest-improving education system in the country based on National Assessment of Educational Progress scores.

That’s true.

It also happened nearly fifteen years ago.

Education, much like baseball, eventually asks the same question.

What have you done lately?

SCORE recently highlighted this statistic:

“In 2009, Tennessee ranked 11th out of 14 Southern states and 41st nationally using the same methodology. By 2024, it ranked first in the South and 17th in the nation.”

That’s real progress.

No one should deny it.

But let’s also recognize the timeline.

It took roughly fifteen years to climb twenty-three places nationally.

At that pace, should we expect another fifteen years before reaching the top five?

More importantly…

Are we measuring the right things?

That’s the question almost nobody in education wants to ask.

Doing well on a standardized assessment doesn’t automatically mean students are receiving the best possible education.

It means they’re doing well on that assessment.

Those aren’t necessarily the same thing.

We’re living through one of the biggest technological revolutions in modern history.

Artificial intelligence is transforming workplaces.

Automation is reshaping industries.

Many of the jobs today’s kindergarten students will eventually hold don’t even exist yet.

Shouldn’t we at least ask whether our measures of educational success need to evolve alongside the world our students are inheriting?

Imagine evaluating schools during the Industrial Revolution by celebrating how well students performed on tests measuring agricultural skills.

Would anyone have considered that the gold standard for educational success?

Of course not.

A truly great education system prepares students for the future they’ll inherit—not simply the test they’ll take.

One thing standardized testing is exceptionally good at, however…

…is attracting money.

Over the years, SCORE has generated millions of dollars in private support while positioning itself as one of Tennessee’s leading education policy organizations.

The Bill Gates Foundation has been one of SCORE’s major financial supporters over the past decade. In June 2026, the Foundation awarded SCORE $412,500 in general operating support over a six-month period.

To be clear, there is nothing improper about private foundations supporting education organizations.

Philanthropy has long played an important role in American education.

The question isn’t whether the Gates Foundation can support SCORE.

Of course it can.

The question is whether organizations receiving substantial private funding should wield the level of influence they currently do over public education policy without the same public accountability required of elected officials.

Money doesn’t automatically buy influence.

But it certainly buys access.

And when the same organization receiving significant philanthropic support is helping shape statewide policy, funding positions within the Tennessee Department of Education, and seeing its leadership appointed to influential oversight boards, it’s reasonable to ask just how much influence unelected organizations should have over Tennessee’s public schools.

Take SCORE CEO David Mansouri.

Despite never having earned a degree in education—I think he majored in piccolo—and never having worked in a public school, Mansouri recently found himself appointed to the newly created Memphis Schools Oversight Board by House Speaker Cameron Sexton.

There is nothing improper about the appointment.

But there is certainly something worth examining.

After all, Mansouri lives in Nashville, not Memphis.

So why him?

Hmmm…

Consider a couple of things.

State Representative Mark White, the longtime chairman of the House Education Committee, has maintained a close relationship with SCORE for years. White also serves on the governing board for the National Assessment of Educational Progress—the same assessment SCORE frequently points to as evidence of Tennessee’s educational success.

Do I know exactly how Mansouri’s appointment came about?

No.

What I do know is Tennessee education has become a remarkably small world.

The same organizations.

The same foundations.

The same policy circles.

The same names.

Eventually you begin asking whether these are truly independent voices or simply different seats around the same table.

It’s also worth looking at who occupies those seats.

SCORE’s board includes longtime lobbyist Chuck Cagle, former U.S. Attorney General Alberto Gonzales, Hyde Foundation leader Barbara Hyde, Ballad Health CEO Alan Levine, Scarlett Family Foundation President Tara Scarlett, and Dee Haslam, wife of former Governor Bill Haslam.

That’s an impressive collection of leaders.

It’s also an extraordinarily influential one.

It’s worth remembering that Governor Haslam recently appeared before the Metro Nashville Board of Education in support of Superintendent Adrienne Battle. Education has long been a priority for the Haslam family, and their continued involvement is hardly a secret.

Another observation.

If you’re keeping SCORE—pun fully intended—the organization’s sixteen-member board currently includes one Hispanic member and two Black members while advising education policy in a state where roughly 37 percent of public school students are children of color.

Whether readers find that meaningful is up to them.

I simply think it’s a question worth asking.

By now you’re probably thinking:

“That’s all interesting, TC, but what does any of it actually mean?”

Fair question.

Here’s why I think it matters.

Early indications suggest Tennessee’s next Commissioner of Education could emerge from recommendations made by—or closely associated with—the same education policy network SCORE has helped cultivate.

One name continues surfacing in those conversations.

Knox County Schools Superintendent Dr. Jon Rysewyk.

Rysewyk assumed the superintendent’s role in June 2022 after serving as the district’s Chief Academic Officer. By most traditional accountability measures, he’s earned a solid reputation. Knox County has improved academically, and supporters point to rising assessment scores as evidence his instructional strategies are working.

That’s certainly part of the story.

Managing a school district, however, requires much more than improving test scores.

Eventually every superintendent runs into the same reality.

Budgets.

And budgets have a funny way of exposing strengths and weaknesses standardized tests never reveal.

Knox County Schools recently announced a revised budget after local and state funding changes created a $7.8 million shortfall for the 2026-27 school year.

The explanation deserves attention because it illustrates exactly how Tennessee’s new education funding formula works.

As Dr. Rysewyk explained:

“Fiscal capacity is basically the state looking at different counties and saying, ‘What is their potential to pay?’ What they did in April was they readjusted that and basically said they believe Knox County has the ability to contribute more at the local level—and so they withheld more of the state dollars that we would have gotten.”

That’s not just a Knox County story.

That’s a Tennessee story.

When lawmakers replaced the Basic Education Program with TISA, supporters emphasized the formula’s “hold harmless” provision. Districts were promised they wouldn’t immediately lose state funding during the transition.

That promise was true.

It just wasn’t forever.

Eventually districts begin living under TISA as it was actually designed.

When the state concludes a county has a greater ability to raise local revenue, state dollars can decrease.

Somebody has to make up the difference.

Sometimes that’s county government.

Sometimes it’s local taxpayers.

Sometimes it’s school districts reducing services.

Often it’s a combination of all three.

Several smaller districts have already begun feeling that pressure.

More likely will.

None of this should surprise anyone.

Many of these concerns were raised before TISA was ever adopted.

It’s also worth remembering one more thing.

SCORE wasn’t simply observing that debate.

It was one of TISA’s strongest advocates.

Which brings us back to Nashville.

Metro Council recently approved a forensic audit of Metro Nashville Public Schools.

Frankly…

It’s overdue.

Whether that audit uncovers widespread problems or simply confirms everything has been handled appropriately, taxpayers deserve the answers.

When you’re entrusted with well over a billion dollars in public money, transparency shouldn’t be optional.

It should be expected.

Council also directed MNPS to contribute approximately $470,000 toward paying for the audit.

That raises an interesting question.

Can Metro Council actually tell an independently elected school board how to spend its money?

Many of Nashville’s newer residents probably assume the answer is yes.

The Metro Charter says otherwise.

When Metropolitan Government was created, its architects intentionally established an independent Board of Public Education. The idea was simple.

City Hall funds the schools.

The school board governs them.

The mayor proposes education funding.

Metro Council approves the budget.

The Board of Education operates the district.

Those lines were drawn intentionally to keep day-to-day politics out of public education.

Reality, however, has become a little blurrier.

Over the past several years, Superintendent Adrienne Battle has increasingly allowed City Hall to become involved in decisions that traditionally belonged to the district.

The clearest example came last year when MNPS adjusted school start times to help facilitate one of Mayor Freddie O’Connell’s transportation initiatives.

Whether you supported that decision isn’t really the point.

The point is precedent.

Once you voluntarily invite political influence into operational decisions, it becomes much harder later to argue politicians should stay outside the fence.

So I’m genuinely curious.

What legal mechanism requires MNPS to spend nearly half a million dollars on this audit?

Could the district refuse?

Could the school board simply tell Metro Council to pound sand?

Perhaps.

Although I suspect no one wants to pick a budget fight with the body approving hundreds of millions of dollars in local education funding.

For the sake of argument, let’s assume Council’s directive stands.

MNPS needed to find $470,000.

The district’s solution?

Eliminate a proposed pre-kindergarten program serving the Hillwood cluster.

Think about that.

The audit didn’t eliminate pre-K.

A budget decision did.

School board member Rachel Elrod acknowledged exactly what happened.

As Tennessean columnist Andrea Williams reported:

“Those are priorities for the board, but it has not been the main priority of the board. And the main priority of our board has always been employee compensation.”

I appreciate the honesty.

At least now everyone understands the priorities.

Andrea Williams went a step further.

She wrote:

“It’s a trick of modern industry—and education is a capital-I industry—to create a false sense of scarcity that convinces poorly paid underlings to fight for scraps while well-paid administrators…sit back and watch it all play out.”

She then asked the question many taxpayers are probably asking themselves:

“After all, if MNPS money is so tight, and early childhood education is on the line, do central office employees who already make $100-, $150- or $200,000 a year need an annual step increase, every year?”

Finally:

“Since the board just doled out a historic settlement, as well as $165,000 for Battle’s office suite remodel, could they have peeled away the $470,000 audit fee from the top of the organizational chart, instead of taking from the students at the bottom?”

Those are fair questions.

Personally, I know where I might have started looking.

Principals and central office administrators recently returned from a three-day leadership retreat in Louisville.

Leadership retreats have value.

Professional development has value.

The question is whether those expenditures should outrank expanding access to early childhood education when dollars become scarce.

Sometimes leadership isn’t about finding more money.

Sometimes it’s about deciding what matters most.

Because budgets reveal priorities.

Not mission statements.

Not strategic plans.

Not PowerPoint presentations.

Budgets.

There is rarely a discussion about MNPS’s disappointing proficiency rates that doesn’t eventually circle back to early childhood education.

District leaders routinely remind us that children who start behind often spend years trying to catch up.

They’re right.

Which makes the Hillwood decision even more revealing.

When forced to choose, the board protected one priority by sacrificing another.

Whether you agree with that decision or not, at least now everyone understands the order of priorities.

And perhaps that’s the larger lesson running throughout this entire column.

The governor’s race.

SCORE.

The Gates Foundation.

TISA.

The Metro Charter.

The forensic audit.

The Hillwood pre-K program.

They may sound like separate stories.

They’re really the same story.

Who decides what matters?

Mission statements tell us what organizations hope we’ll believe.

Budgets tell us what they actually believe.

If you want to understand education in Tennessee, don’t just follow the speeches.

Don’t just follow the politics.

And don’t just follow the test scores.

Follow the money.

You’ll learn who’s really Keeping SCORE.

Thanks for Reading Dad Gone Wild

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Categories: Education