Funding: An Arts School Drama
By: X Vazquez
As an eager young performing artist, I attended Oakland School for the Arts for middle and high school, commuting an hour each way from South San Francisco daily. Operating out of the Fox Theater building, OSA was founded by former Governor Jerry Brown as a public arts charter school intending to offer arts education to the under-resourced youth of Oakland. However, the audition requirement created an elitist environment, in which upper-middle class youth with prior arts training (like myself) comprised a bulk of the student body. Even with the school’s notoriety, funding issues plagued OSA, and as a student, I saw firsthand how inadequate funding impacts every aspect of our education.
For a school of about 800 students, there were many moving parts that required a lot of money. Aside from the yearly pushes for family contributions and community donations, our school relied heavily on Governor Brown’s annual gala, and when he left office in 2019, so did our major source of funding. The administration scrambled, teachers abandoned ship, departments struggled to fund shows, and students felt the weight of a school falling apart. Throughout my six years at OSA, I felt morale worsen every year. Without knowing the specifics, we all understood our school to be broke. Beloved educators left us for better career prospects, we lost access to vital spaces for arts classes, and our administration seemed just as disoriented as we were. I found it hard to stay motivated when structural dysfunction presented new issues every day. What kept me from leaving was my love for the community and the freedom I had to creatively express myself everyday.
Our academics suffered from the revolving door of teachers and substitutes. Like many of my friends, I turned to dual enrollment classes to make up for the lack of AP offerings and unstable general education. Although I’m grateful for having taken eight community college classes by the time I graduated, it was making up for what my school wasn’t able to provide itself due to its poor financial status and the high teacher turnover rate. My favorite teacher, Ms. Joshi, taught World History and Ethnic Studies. She only lasted three years at OSA, due to low pay and the increasing demands put on her as a young educator of color. Her impact emboldened students of color to organize for the institutionalization of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion policies and increased transparency of administrative decisions affecting our education. Being a co-chair of the Board of Students of Color under her advisorship taught me the value of student voice, unleashing our power to make change as an underestimated stakeholder in our education system.
My involvement in school politics as a student was a direct effect of the dire circumstances created by underfunding and inequity. We showed up and spoke out at school board meetings, planned actions, and organized the community, but the issue we were confronting was much larger than just one charter school struggling to stay afloat in an economy that deprioritizes education and the arts. Ironically, being a student activist and taking college classes is the very reason I got into UC Berkeley. Even with the challenges of not always having a reliable space for arts classes, administrative dysfunction, and an unstable supply of academic teachers, OSA fostered a spirited community of artists, activists, and free thinkers that made me into who I am today. Although I hold my experience with great gratitude and privilege, students shouldn’t have to become activists and organizers in order to receive a fair education. Just getting to show up to reliable classes, learning from passionate teachers, and freely growing into your identity should be enough.