The Chicago Teachers Union board members sat in that meeting convinced they had a deal. Illinois House Speaker Chris Welch had told them, face to face, that he would fight for funding for their schools. They took that commitment, voted down the balanced budget the district had proposed, and added $150 million in state money that didn’t actually exist yet. Now Welch was on the news saying something completely different.
“The $150 million, I don’t know where that number came from. I made a commitment to fight for funding for schools. ”
He never mentioned an exact amount, he said. He never guaranteed anything.
He was just talking generally about fighting for all schools across the state, like he had his whole career. Not just Chicago. Not specifically them. But the damage was done.
The school board had already used his words to justify passing a budget that everyone admitted wasn’t balanced. And now the district that was supposed to use that money to avoid layoffs was stuck. Here’s the mess Chicago Public Schools was in. They had a $732 million budget gap and billions in long-term debt.
Almost $9 billion deep. Earlier, district leaders had announced that over 1,500 teachers and support staff would not be brought back for the coming year. More than 700 teachers. More than 800 paraprofessionals.
Special education teachers. College and career coaches. A dance teacher on the West Side who got the news and posted about losing her position. Teachers were posting their layoff notices online.
The Chicago Teachers Union called the budget dead on arrival. They said the layoffs were reckless, that these were real people with real families. Dr. Maclin King, the school CEO, said the process was painful for everyone all the way around.
They were cutting costs, imposing freezes, adding five furlough days for teachers. But they also said something else: they anticipated that most of these teachers and support staff would be rehired. That was the part that made the whole thing feel less like a genuine crisis and more like a negotiation play. Because if the money came through, the rehires would happen.
The whole disaster could be reversed at any time. So the union pushed hard. They wanted lawmakers in Springfield to step in with more funding. They pointed out that the state had called special sessions for data centers and sports teams.
They argued it was time for the biggest mega project of all: fully funding the schools. And they leaned on Welch’s words. They had video of him making that commitment. The union circulated it.
The school board members aligned with the union used it to justify their vote. They claimed Welch was an intelligent man who saw the news and understood the scrutiny around the school budget. They stayed optimistic. But other board members who voted against that budget said the opposite.
They said it was fiscally irresponsible to rely on money that wasn’t guaranteed. You have to work with what you actually have, not what you hope will come. Borrowing money costs more money, and that means less money directed to the classroom. For a while, it looked like the district might not even be able to open its doors on time.
The board’s vote could affect the district’s ability to get the short-term financing it needed to pay staff next month. Teachers were set to return to classrooms on August 17th, with students starting a week later on the 24th. And none of it was certain. The lawmakers squeezed the district.
The district squeezed the lawmakers back. And in the middle of it all, the kids and the teachers were the ones left waiting to see if their school would open on time. Now the school board members were pointing at Welch and saying, “You told us you’d get us the money. ” Welch was saying, “I never promised a specific amount.
” The union was saying, “We need Springfield to act. ” And CPS officials were saying, “If the money doesn’t come through, mid-year cuts will be the result. ”
But in the end, everyone knew how this had to end. Schools have to open.
They have to function. Children have to go somewhere to learn. And holding the entire school year hostage wasn’t really an option. The question was who would end up paying for it.
Not the lawmakers in Springfield. Not the school board members who gambled on a promise that never materialized. It would be the Illinois taxpayer, as usual, left holding the bill for a crisis that was never truly about the children in the first place. The school board voted 11 to 7 to reject the original budget and reverse the layoffs, all based on that phantom $150 million.
The district said the money had to come through or there would be mid-year cuts. The union said Welch had made a promise. Welch said he never promised a penny. And when the new school year began, someone had to pay for it.
It was just a question of who, and what it would cost them.
