⚠️ DISCLAIMER:
The following rant is powered by common sense and rage. If you're allergic to accountability—or love bureaucratic belt-tightening that tightens around kids—this might sting.
So here’s Storytime with Ryan Walters—Oklahoma’s Dept. of Education head who apparently thinks orders are magical fairy dust. Last week, he rolled out the grand master plan: “Every kid gets a free lunch!” No extra cash, no funding plan, just a big red stamp of “MANDATED” on school budgets.
Then he screamed, “Or ELSE!” Stripping schools of accreditation, withholding funds—it was like a hostage video for school cafeterias. Only problem? He has zero authority. Zero. Legally. Budgets are local. He’s the kid trying to rewrite next year’s math grade after the semester’s closed.
But Ryan, buddy, don’t worry—he’s got answers. Just eliminate all school principals and quiz teachers on how to feed 5,000 kids on an empty spreadsheet. Because that’s how government works now: Threaten, mislead, and pretend ignorance is talent.
Meanwhile, the same dude who’s crying about fat-cat admin salaries is slinging six-figure bonuses to his own political cronies who don’t know a lunch line from a punch line.
And let’s talk about deadlines. It’s July—no free lunch funding in the pipeline, no federal grants applied for, and the deadline to join federal meal programs has come and gone. But hey, don’t let facts mess with your free lunch fantasy, right? Those programs were for the kids, but apparently Walters thinks PE and school safety are optional.
This isn't policy. It’s political theater. A performance built for cameras, hashtags, and headlines—like Netflix without the scripts. The stage direction? “Order schools to pay for everything and blame the entire government.” The punchline? Teachers unemployed, cafeterias closed, and districts left cooking up excuses to survive.
He’s the guy who once tried to inject Bible readings into every school day, reversed Title IX protections, cussed out teachers’ unions, and called librarians pornographers—all before lunch .
Let that sink in. We’ve got a “superintendent” whose greatest accomplishment is wielding a fax machine like a tyrant, demanding results with no authority, no funds, and no clue.
But hey: Kids come first!—until you need to pay, budget, or follow the law.
So yeah—if anyone tells you this is about feeding kids, ask them to show you the money. Or better yet, ask Walters. If he runs to "fix lunch" but can't walk into a classroom without lighting it on fire, he’s not an educator—he’s a politician in a lab coat.
And as for Walters?
He’s not solving a problem. He’s performing one.
Mic drop.
And pass the dry rubber chicken—this one's a real comedy tragedy.