Leading the way is Bob Tarter, assistant vice principal over activities and budget. Tall with a hint of boyishness in the face and an eager-to-please demeanor—"Am I giving you the stuff you need?"—he could pass for a young college professor.
On the tour, Tarter doesn't much justify Rancho's high price—school officials blame rising construction costs and a limited pool of contractors willing to forego more lucrative casino projects—as show what a $75 million campus looks like.
"If you saw the old Rancho, then you know this is a dramatic improvement," he says as we walk through the new cafeteria, which flows into a larger commons area where hundreds of teenagers are enjoying lunch, listening to music, flirting, even breakdancing.
All the expected high school accoutrements are in place, including a new gym and new lockers. But I'm more interested in the nonstandard bells and whistles, like the information kiosk at the front entrance—reminiscent of those cell phone kiosks in local malls. And the state-of-the-art theater. East of the cafeteria is the wing of the 1,200-student College of Medicine and Aviation magnet program, where some classrooms are designed like doctor's offices, with a receptionist's desk, examination table and medical equipment. Appended to aviation teacher Ken Rees' classroom is a hangar with real aircraft parts, including the engine of Howard Hughes' Spruce Goose. Outside in a shaded area is the hull of a donated plane. Unique to Kimberlee Bowers' pharmacology class is a fish tank-looking contraption that can store tissue cultures. Future plans include installing an electric line to allow students to distill their own water. In the CAD (Computer Assisted Design) room, students perform three-dimensional animation and print out building plans on an expensive plotter.
At the risk of pissing off the Bob Beerses of the world, it seems like $75 million well spent. I say this knowing that there are probably umpteen areas where the district could've cut costs (along with some places where it could've spent more, like putting air dryers in the bathrooms, because the paper towels in the men's bathrooms are gone.)
I say this also knowing that a recent audit by Tallahassee, Florida-based MGT of America praised the district's school-building program as one of the nation's most efficient. A bond passed in 1998 has generated nearly $5 billion to build 91 schools and modernize 10 campuses. (With $1.7 billion in the account at the end of August, the monies could increase the number of new schools to 105, school officials say. The bond is funded by property, real-estate transfer and hotel and room taxes.)
So, on the one hand we need new schools if we're ever going to reduce class sizes, if we're going to provide campuses that look inviting. Much as a bad teacher can hurt a student, a shabby school can send the wrong messages: We don't care here, or in these parts, education takes a backseat to survival. That's not to say that making schools look like colleges instead of fortresses will produce National Merit Scholars. Tarter cautions that it'll take up to three years to gauge the new campus' impact on test scores.
But back to the price tag, $75 million. That's $10 million more than the average $65 million it costs to build a high school (it costs $21 million for an elementary school and $37 million for a middle school). Clark County School District spokeswoman Leah Marchione says ancillary items—utilities and consultants' fees, hiring architects and engineers, buying furniture, creating temporary parking spaces and acquiring portables to house student overflow—can add millions to the original price.
They're what Fred Smith, who directs the construction management for the facilities division of the school district, calls "turnkey costs"—what it takes to be able to hand over the keys and open the door, he says. Rancho actually came in under budget, at $58 million, he says. It was the turnkey costs, he says, and not the aviation hangar or reconfigured classrooms that added $17 million.
"The replacement facility at Rancho is identical in square feet to high schools at Arbor View and Legacy," Smith says, referring to schools built recently. "The interior space was altered to adjust to the school's different curriculum, but there was no additional space or additional cost for the unique things that Rancho has. The only concession made was for their existing gym on the northeast corner of the site. It was built in the last 10 years. We left the building intact and used it for the ROTC program."
Where Rancho came in $10 million over budget, Smith says a high school planned for Levi and Torrey Pines, near Southern Highlands, could cost $100 million with turnkey costs. The school is expected to open in 2008. "The bid amount for the school was $79 million, but construction costs have gone up 25 percent to 35 percent each of the last two years; the cost of steel, copper, drywall, concrete, wood and anything petroleum-based has fluctuated wildly; and the bidding climate has gone bananas in last two years. I don't see prices going down in the near future," Smith says. He expects an as-yet-sited high school slated to open in 2009 to also top $100 million.
Smith says that in addition to getting beat up by construction costs, the district is legally bound to use the lowest bidder. If the lowest bid is $20 million higher than the district's bid then, he says, "we have a pretty hard decision. We can re-bid. But every day we delay work, it costs $60,000, and any savings we might get by redesigning a project to make it less expensive will be eaten up."
Says Smith: "We're getting fewer general contractors that bid on our work and fewer subcontractors are bidding to the general contractors to work on our projects. These subcontractors and general contractors can put premiums to ensure profitability in their bids, which means we have to pay more money.
"We don't do custom designs for schools," Smith continues. "We have a prototypical design that goes through a design-review process, we refine the prototype, then build cookie-cutter schools. We don't build the equivalent of custom homes; we build the equivalent of tract houses."
But maybe the district should build custom schools—showpieces, if you will. The funds are available—relax folks, the bond passed in 1998; when it runs out, then you have to worry about getting hit up again—and it might actually help instill (or reinforce) pride in administrators, teachers, staff, students and parents which, in turn, might positively impact academic aptitude and test scores.
Or not.