It's been a full K-12 cycle since Arkansans approved writing a lottery into our state Constitution to help fund higher education. Kindergartners in 2009 are now the senior class of 2022, and the difference between what they were promised for lottery scholarships and what they'll actually get next fall is nothing short of a swindle.
Bait and switch is the stock and trade of the gambling lure, of course. Lotteries sensationalize winning, but Lady Luck is a siren who most commonly lures players to losing.
Arkansas citizens who bought into the lottery's campaign promises in 2008 wanted to believe that it could generate $100 million in scholarship funds. Students and their parents salivated over getting $5,000 a year for four years to put toward their college education.
Unfortunately, games of chance dash more hopes than they fulfill. Little Johnny or Jane in kindergarten in 2009 (and their parents) were promised at the time that their Arkansas Lottery Scholarship would take care of two-thirds of their tuition at the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville.
But pipe dreams are often based on unsustainable assumptions, and the $100 million in funds that lottery proponents promised didn't materialize in 2009. Or 2010, 2011, or any year until last year--when the combination of pandemic shutdowns and federal cash infusions created record lottery sales and scholarship proceeds.
Last year's $106 million in scholarships is in current dollars, however. Adjusted for inflation, the lottery would have to generate $126 million now to truly fulfill its 2008 promise. That's a sure bet not to happen.
The lottery has also lost ground as a percentage of college tuition at Arkansas institutions, even after accounting for inflation. The real-dollar cost increase at public universities is up by a third since 2008.
To make things worse, the Arkansas Legislature has slashed scholarship payouts from $5,000 for freshman year to an embarrassing $500 per semester.
With more than half-a-billion dollars swirling around the state in lottery tickets and games, the average Arkansas freshman barely gets $100 per month for higher education. Despite the lottery's pitch theme, that's not winning.
The shocking reality little Johnny or Jane from 2009 will confront next fall is that their lottery scholarship will barely cover 10 percent of their UA tuition--a far cry from that first-promised two-thirds amount.
The original feel-good scenario for the lottery was $250 million in lottery revenue (which seemed ambitious in 2008) that would produce $100 million in scholarships.
And yet in fiscal 2020, the lottery generated $532 million in revenue--twice the original projections--but only delivered $89 million in scholarships (11 percent less).
Those numbers don't add up, of course. And they never have for the Arkansas lottery as revenue has consistently exceeded projections and scholarships consistently fallen short of them.
But fishy numbers are part of any racket, as are slippery answers and excuses when asked to explain them. Some games pay more than others, and people might play more of less "profitable" games, blah blah blah.
A total of 44 states now operate lotteries, so it's likely we're stuck with our deal with the devil on this method of scholarship financing.
But that doesn't mean we have to be stuck with reneging on promises to students. Now that, finally, the lottery hit its $100 million mark in scholarships, the least the Legislature could do is restore the award structure to match it.
Or, a better option might be to restructure it altogether to reward higher first-year scholarships to students who are better bets as scholars. If we're saddled with using games of chance to fund scholarships, let's take chances of collegiate success into consideration for high school graduates to receive more than just $1,000.
Lottery scholarships already have minimum requirements, but why not up the freshman amount to students who also meet some maximum eligibility measures?
On average, one out of every five freshmen enrolled in a four-year institution fails to return for sophomore year. For community college freshmen, the number is two out of five.
But dropouts aren't random freshmen. The rate varies based on individual student traits, characteristics and situations. High school valedictorians have a much higher retention rate than students who barely meet GPA requirements.
It's a solid wager that a high school senior who bests the ACT average score by 10 points or more will stay in college and probably graduate in four years, not six. Students with high school GPAs of 4.0 are pretty safe bets for superior study habits and sticking with college, too.
The Legislature could undoubtedly come up with a true scholar-based rubric in which high-achieving high school students earn the $5,000 that very first year--as promised way back in 2008.
The four-year total scholarship amount should also be restored for over-achieving students. At $14,000 now ($1,000 first year, $4,000 second and third year, and $5,000 senior year) it's 30 percent less than what we sold our souls (and our kids' souls) for in bankrolling scholarships on hopes of instant treasure.
It's an easy fix. But more than that, it's the right thing.
Dana D. Kelley is a freelance writer from Jonesboro.