For years—years—our steak knives have been dull enough to qualify as safety scissors. (Remember those plastic ones we had back in the day?) You could saw away at a perfectly good piece of chicken and end up with something that looked like it had been attacked by an angry raccoon. (I used one of the unsharpened knives last night, and that’s pretty accurate.) I kept using the little sharpener built into the knife block because, well, that’s what it’s there for, right?

Except those tiny sharpening stones wore down sometime during the Obama administration.

So one day I finally broke down and bought a real knife sharpener. Not the “gentle encouragement” kind. The industrial kind. The kind that sounds like a jet engine taxiing down a runway while chewing gravel.

The first time I ran a knife through it, I thought for sure the neighbors were going to call the police. The sound is… horrendous. Like a blender full of silverware. So now, whenever I sharpen knives, I have to wear hearing protection and crank some old-school Christian rock on 11 just to drown out the carnage.

But the knives? They’re actually sharp now (when I sharpen them). Sharp enough to cut something firmer than melted butter.

The tool made all the difference.

And that’s what hit me: For years, I was trying to fix a real problem with the wrong tool.

Which brings me, strangely enough, to our local school board.

We Treat the School Board Like It Has the Wrong Tools (Or Like It Has All the Tools)

If you listen to conversations around town—or venture into the dangerous wilderness that is the Facebook comment section—you’d think the school board has the power to fix every single issue anyone has ever had with public education.

Curriculum mandates? “Board needs to fix that.”

State graduation requirements? “Board better do something.”

Federal laws? “Board should overturn that.”

Teacher shortages, funding formulas, unfunded mandates, national trends, TikTok? “All the board’s fault.”

It’s like we think the school board is hiding a magic toolbox in the district office. A toolbox filled with enchanted wrenches that tighten up state laws and mystical saws that cut through federal requirements.

But here’s the truth:

The local school board doesn’t have the tools people think it has. Not because they’re incompetent, but because those tools don’t exist at the local level.

(What I Have Learned in the Last Four+ Years)

(In the fall of 2021, the Battle Ground School District sent out an email inviting parents and community members to join a new thing they were starting: the Citizen’s Advisory Committee. Not long into that adventure I offered to help the district with a podcast to help build a bridge between the school district and the community called the “BG CAST.” (Battle Ground Community and Schools Together. It’s funny because schools have an inordinate amount of acronyms.) I wanted to make a difference in our community and this was a great opportunity. If you want to make a difference, you should join too!

Over that time I’ve learned A LOT about how the school district operates, what they can/can’t do and about the people who are making the decisions. I honestly never thought I’d get this deep into the school world, especially deep enough to write about it on my personal blog. But, here we are.

So, while I’m not an expert, I know a lot more than I used to. I used to think I understood how things work, but I was wrong – VERY WRONG.

I’m going to share with you what (I think) I know. If I end up being wrong, I will make corrections.)

What the Board Actually Has in Its Toolbox

Local boards have important tools—just not the supernatural ones.

They can:

  • Hire and evaluate the superintendent
  • Set budget priorities
  • Approve programs and electives
  • Shape district culture
  • Support safety and student well-being
  • Encourage transparency
  • Strengthen community trust

Those are real, meaningful responsibilities.

But they can’t:

  • Rewrite state laws
  • Change state learning standards
  • Adjust federal requirements
  • Eliminate mandated curriculum
  • Redesign statewide funding formulas
  • Bring back 8-track tapes

Those aren’t local tools. Those belong in Olympia or Washington, D.C. (Except for the 8-tracks. That’s probably something Jeff Bezos would have to do.)

Expecting the board to fix state-level problems is like expecting my old, worn-down knife sharpener to give me razor-sharp knives. It wasn’t built for that.

When We Expect the Wrong Tool to Do the Job, Everyone Gets Frustrated

If I ran my knives through that old, dull sharpener another 500 times, they still wouldn’t cut a tomato. And yelling at the sharpener wouldn’t help—even if it felt good. It would also feel good to take a sledge hammer to it.

That’s what we do when we treat the school board like it has magic powers. We get frustrated, blame them for things they literally cannot change, and then wonder why nothing improves. Then we show up at board meetings with our figurative sledge hammers, expecting to change something that can’t be changed there.

We’re using the wrong tool on the wrong problem.

Clarity Is Better Than Magic

Here’s the good news: When you use the right tool for the right job, things actually get sharper. Stronger. Better.

The same is true with our schools.

If we stop expecting the board to solve problems out of its reach—and start understanding what they genuinely can do—we’ll not only aim our concerns in the right direction, but we’ll also build a healthier, stronger community in the process.

And, if we learn where to get involved so we can make a difference, then maybe more people will learn how to use the right tools for the right job.

Over the next several weeks, I’m going to unpack what local boards actually do, what they can’t do, and why using the right tools in the right places might just change everything.

And maybe—just maybe—we’ll all learn to sharpen the right things.

Next Monday: “The Thermostat That Doesn’t Heat the House: What Local Boards Actually Control.”