By Kabeer Mehta
On cold mornings in Sleetmute, a village of fewer than 100 people along the upper Kuskokwim River, parents sometimes wait to hear whether school will open.
The building has leaked for years. When snow piles up on the roof, water seeps into the walls. Parts of the school have been closed because they are no longer safe. Students walk past those spaces every day.“We just kind of deal with it,” said one parent, who asked not to be named. “There’s not another school to send them to.”Sleetmute is not alone. Across rural Alaska, schools that serve mostly Alaska Native students show similar signs of deterioration, according to reporting by KYUK, ProPublica, and NPR. Roofs leak. Mold spreads behind walls and ceiling tiles. Heating systems fail during long stretches of subzero temperatures (KYUK and ProPublica, 2024).State inspections and district reports have documented these problems for years. Parents, teachers, and tribal leaders have raised concerns repeatedly. Many of the buildings look much the same as they did a decade ago.
At the Jack Egnaty Sr. School in Sleetmute, half the building has been closed since an architect warned in 2021 that parts of the structure were no longer safe to occupy (KYUK, 2021).
The gym and wood shop are off limits. So are the boys’ bathroom and a storage room where water has pooled beneath the floor. Students now share a single restroom. A manila folder hangs from the door. One side says “boys.” The other says “girls” (KYUK and ProPublica, 2024).
Water has leaked through the roof for so long that sections of the wall have buckled under the weight of snow and ice. Black mold coats parts of the wood shop and a utility closet near the gym bleachers. Teachers have reported bats roosting above ceiling panels (KYUK, 2024).
Teachers say instruction continues, but it looks different. Classes are crowded into fewer rooms. Physical education has been cut back. Community events no longer happen in the building.
Health concerns follow. Studies cited by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency link mold exposure in schools to higher rates of asthma, respiratory illness, and student absenteeism. Poor ventilation and heating failures compound those risks, especially in Arctic climates (EPA).
When schools close unexpectedly, students lose routine. In villages without nearby districts, there are few alternatives. Learning pauses or moves online, where internet access is often unreliable in rural Alaska (NPR, 2023).For years, the Kuspuk School District asked the state for money to fix the roof in Sleetmute.Records show the district submitted its first request in 2007. It was denied. The district applied again the next year. And the next (Alaska Department of Education and Early Development data).By the time the state approved funding in 2024, the original repair request had grown from about $411,000 to more than $1.6 million, even after adjusting for inflation (KYUK and ProPublica analysis). District officials say the damage had progressed too far. The school now needs to be replaced entirely.Similar delays appear across the state.In Thorne Bay, the Southeast Island School District has requested funding at least 17 times since 2009 to replace a broken fire suppression system. None of those requests were approved (KYUK, 2025). Superintendent Rod Morrison has warned lawmakers that faulty wiring in the school gym increases the risk of fire.
In Newtok, pipes froze and burst, leaving the school without running water for most of the school year. Students were sent home twice a day on a four-wheeler to use the bathroom (KYUK, 2024). Since 1998, rural school districts have submitted 1,789 requests for major maintenance and construction funding. Only about 14 percent have received state money (KYUK and ProPublica analysis). Nearly half of rural school buildings are owned by the state, which is legally responsible for maintaining them. Most of the districts affected serve predominantly Alaska Native students and are located in unincorporated communities that cannot raise money through local property taxes (Alaska Statutes; KYUK review of deeds). As districts wait, they divert operational funds to keep buildings open. Some spend tens of thousands of dollars on inspections and engineering reports to improve their project rankings. Others say they cannot afford to apply at all without cutting teaching positions (interviews with superintendents, KYUK). The backlog grows each year.
In villages like Sleetmute, the school is more than a place for classes.
During storms and power outages, families gather there. Schools often have generators, running water, and space to shelter dozens of people. In many communities, they are the only buildings designed to withstand flooding and extreme weather (Alaska Division of Homeland Security and Emergency Management; KYUK, 2025). As climate-driven disasters increase, rural communities rely on these buildings even more. When a school is unsafe or partially closed, the entire village feels the impact (KYUK and NPR, 2025). District leaders say short-term fixes are no longer enough. Patching a roof delays the problem but does not stop foundations from shifting or boilers from failing again. Delays increase costs, especially in remote areas where materials and labor must be flown in or shipped by barge (University of Alaska Anchorage, 2021). Superintendents and advocates have called for sustained, predictable funding rather than competitive annual grants. Some point to court rulings that already found Alaska’s school funding system “arbitrary, inadequate, and racially discriminatory” toward rural and Alaska Native students (Alaska Superior Court, 1999; 2001).For now, repairs depend on whether a project rises high enough on the state’s priority list in a given year.
There is no clear timeline for when Sleetmute will get a new school.
The roof still leaks. The closed rooms remain closed. Parents still listen for updates on cold mornings.
For now, the doors open. Students come inside. Class goes on.
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