The School Promo Tab is Now $194,585, and No One Knows What for—Except Maybe Superintendent Raines

Remember back in June last year when I told you Walker County Schools had flushed $117,585 down the public relations toilet, courtesy of a boutique video firm called Sparrow Cinema? Back then, we thought we’d hit the bottom.

We were wrong.

Since June, the district has quietly burned through another $77,000, bringing the total to $194,585. That’s right—just shy of $200,000. All for promotional videos no one asked for, no one needed, and almost no one watched.

To put that in context:

• That’s more than four starting teachers’ salaries.

• It’s more than the total budget for classroom supplies at some entire schools.

Instead? We funded vanity reels starring Superintendent Damon Raines and a cast of district administrators telling us how great they are at... well, marketing.

The Sequel Nobody Wanted

This PR saga began in early 2023 with small, itemized invoices. But by August 2023, the district tossed the line-item ledger out the window and put Sparrow on a $7,000-a-month retainer—with no scope of work, no deliverables, and no oversight.

Fast forward to today. The district has continued funneling tax dollars into this contract without:

• A communications plan

• A performance evaluation

• Or even a justification beyond, “We think it’s important to tell our story.”

And what is the return on this $194,585 investment?
A few Facebook videos. Some of them with fewer than 200 views. That's $11 per view, if you’re keeping score.

Propaganda Over Performance

Let’s not forget the backdrop here: nearly half of Walker County students in grades 3–8 read below grade level. Teachers are buying their own classroom supplies. Parents are fundraising just to keep basic programs alive.

Yet the district found nearly $200,000 to pay a video company to produce puff pieces and promo clips where officials congratulate themselves—including one bizarre ad that appears to endorse the vendor itself.

And yes, that’s still likely a violation of state ethics rules, given that a sitting board member appeared in it without board approval.

But hey—PR first. Literacy later.

The Questions That Need Asking

At this point, any board member worth their salt should be lighting up the next public meeting with uncomfortable questions. Here are ten to get them started:

1. What measurable student outcome improved as a result of this $194,585 in promotional spending?

2. Who approved these continued payments, and where is that approval recorded?

3. What specific deliverables have we received for this money?

4. Why was no competitive bidding process used for this ongoing contract?

5. Where is the communications plan that justified this expenditure in the first place?

6. Can the superintendent cite one tangible benefit to students, parents, or teachers from these videos?

7. Why are we spending thousands to ‘tell our story’ instead of rewriting the one where our kids can’t read?

8. Why weren’t these videos targeted to any specific audience with actual paid distribution?

9. If the board cuts this contract and redirects the funds to student support, will the superintendent support that—or fight to keep the cameras rolling?

There are only two kinds of leaders in public education: those who do what’s right when no one is watching—and those who hire a film crew so no one notices what they’re doing.

Walker County has had plenty of the latter. The question now is whether anyone on the board has the courage to be the former.

Because $194,585 is enough for a blockbuster. What we got was a blooper reel.

Sparrow Cinema Open Records 05142025

4.31MB ∙ PDF file

Download

Download