I was born and raised in Vermont. Like many Vermonters, I left home for college and spent time exploring life elsewhere. But when it came time for my wife and me to decide where to plant our roots and raise a family, the choice was clear — we came home.

We didn’t return just for the hiking trails, skiing or postcard views — though those were part of the attraction. We came back because Vermont offered something we hadn’t found elsewhere: a culture of care. A place where neighbors still show up, where local farms feed communities, and where we protect the land out of reverence. We believed in the Vermont way of life — and we wanted that for our kids.

We now live in Weybridge, where both of our children will attend Weybridge Elementary in the fall — the same school I attended as a child. It’s a small, magical place with multi-age classrooms and a warm, welcoming culture. Everyone knows our kids — their strengths, struggles and dreams. The teachers, staff and families — we all feel like we’re in this together. It’s not just a school. It’s a community.

We’ve been embraced here. And we’re not alone. Many of our friends moved to small towns like this one for the same reasons. They were looking for connection. They were looking for Vermont.

But after more than 15 years here as an adult, I can say honestly: this Vermont lifestyle — this ideal we talk about — doesn’t come without serious challenges.

The biggest, by far, is housing. It’s incredibly difficult for young people to find a place to live, let alone afford a house. And without young people, everything else starts to unravel. Our population is aging. The tax base is shrinking. The workforce is thinning. And families who want to move here often can’t.

Even for those who find housing, another wall stands in the way: childcare. There aren’t enough providers, and the cost is staggering. Many families are forced to make impossible choices — one parent staying home, delaying or giving up careers — just to make it work.

Then there’s healthcare. As our population ages, the system faces increasing pressure. Older Vermonters naturally need more care. But with fewer young people to offset those costs, premiums rise — and that strain extends beyond families. Soaring healthcare costs are now one of the biggest drivers of rising education spending, as schools struggle to cover insurance for staff. It’s all connected.

These challenges point to a core truth: Vermont needs more young people. More families. More working-age adults to power our economy and invest in our communities.

Which is why it’s baffling that we’re considering cost-cutting measures that threaten the very things that draw families here. Montpelier — the governor and the Legislature — need to sit up and listen here. We’re at a crucial inflection, and the future of Vermont will turn on decisions they make this year.

From where I stand, the problem isn’t that change is happening — it’s how it’s happening. In the push to address rising property taxes, it feels like we’re rushing toward solutions without fully considering the long-term consequences for our education system. According to the Rural School Community Alliance, H.454 — the education bill currently moving through the Vermont Legislature — “eliminates closure articles of agreement in the formation of new, larger districts and does not establish a clear process for school closures, creating uncertainty for rural communities.” To many of us, this approach feels rushed and disconnected from the realities on the ground. And when change happens without listening, without care, and without collaboration, it leaves real holes in our communities. The ones who fall through those holes? Often, it’s young families — like mine.

Education isn’t just another budget line. It’s our most powerful tool for attracting — and keeping — young families. When people consider where to live, they look at the schools. They ask: Will my child be known here? Will they thrive? Will they feel safe, supported, and challenged?

If we slash budgets, close small schools, and consolidate into larger, impersonal institutions, we send the wrong message. This is like telling families: we don’t have your back, so look for somewhere else to live.

We can’t treat education like a fulfillment center — where efficiency and cost-cutting come before community. It may save dollars on paper, but it erodes the very fabric that draws people here.

Let’s think differently.

Let’s be the state that invests boldly in children. The state where families move here because of the schools. Where teachers are valued, classrooms vibrant and small-town schools essential — not expendable.

Let’s build affordable housing. Expand access to quality childcare. Improve healthcare sustainably. And let’s recognize that strong schools are at the heart of every thriving community.

Let’s do this hard work thoughtfully. Let’s center on kids and young families, providing them not just with services but with real support and a sense of belonging.

We’re at a crossroads. This is our opportunity — not just to avoid decline, but to grow, adapt and lead. Let’s show the next generation that Vermont isn’t just a great place to raise a family — it’s the best place.

If we want a thriving Vermont tomorrow, we have to start building it — with intention — today. And make the right choices in Montpelier, ones that put families and schools first.

Oliver Parini

Weybridge