Cherry Creek Schools is a shadow of its former self. 

When I graduated from Grandview High School in 2008, the district still earned its motto: “Dedicated to Excellence.” These days, Colorado’s fourth-largest district clings to that antiquated reputation even as it unravels in plain sight. 

Facing a nearly $20 million shortfall on an $840 million budget this year, Cherry Creek is slashing $23 million from its budget, with most coming from 159 full-time positions — directly impacting students. 

Thirty-six are central office personnel, including transportation and maintenance. But 55% are direct student-support roles — 51 in special education ($4.2 million) and 37 in gifted and talented ($3.7 million). Both were highlighted in a special education presentation to the board just weeks earlier, when staff reported “steady population growth.” The current district-wide population sits at nearly 8,000 special needs students. 

“Now we’re letting the support staff of that increasing population go?” asked Molly Lamar, a district alum and parent of four district students. 

A former teacher, Lamar’s 27-student class once had 7 with special needs. 

“If I did not have a (paraprofessional) in my classroom, that would have been a nightmare,” she told me. “That decision is coming from someone up at the top that isn’t spending time in a classroom. That’s not who I want making decisions for classrooms.”  

Then again, this is a district that seems to care less about special needs students. As The Denver Gazette reported last month, the Colorado Department of Education found Cherry Creek violated federal law when it failed to provide sign-language interpreter services to 11 students after suspending its interpreter contracts. 

Five students at one elementary school were left unable to communicate or participate in classwork for three months. 

“Cherry Creek let them down,” Lamar said. “This is a civil rights issue.” 

In a letter to parents, Interim Superintendent Jennifer Perry blamed the district’s shortfall “in part” on “ongoing uncertainty in state and federal funding.” 

But let’s be real: Cherry Creek’s fiscal crisis is a result of its own mismanagement, not too little money. 

Under the School Finance Act, property taxes fill the funding bucket first; the state covers the rest. As property taxes rise, the state’s share drops. Voters can bypass the cap with a mill levy override (MLO), a property tax increase for operating expenses like salaries, staffing and technology. Voter-approved bonds cover capital expenses. 

“Cherry Creek has a history of going every four years to ask voters to support both mill levies and bonds,” ex-Superintendent Chris Smith boasted in 2024. 

Like clockwork, voters obliged — in 2008, 2012, 2016, 2020 and again in 2024, approving a $9 million MLO and a $950 million bond. 

“$950 million. That number takes a long time to even get out of your mouth,” Lamar said. “Yet we are cutting projects that were part of that bond.” 

Voters have granted Cherry Creek the maximum MLO allowed. The district has squandered the community’s confidence. Now, after years of banking on voters’ generosity, the bills are coming due. 

Meanwhile, the money is hardly moving the academic needle. Only 48.2% of students are proficient in English and 42.8% in math — still below pre-pandemic levels in English and barely recovered in math. Among Black and Hispanic students, a growing demographic, the numbers are devastating. Fewer than 30% meet or exceed expectations in English with fewer than 23% proficient in math. 

The struggle continues in high school. Mean P/SAT scores are down nearly 20 points since 2019. Reading and writing have only now returned to pre-pandemic levels. Math hasn’t. Only 45% of students meet the college-readiness benchmark in math — a horrendous 26% among Black and Hispanic students. 

What return are taxpayers getting on their purported investments? 

For Cherry Creek, 2026 is already a year of bad press — beginning with the abrupt retirement of Superintendent Christopher Smith over allegations of a “toxic culture” cultivated under his watch. 

Multiple sources spoke to Denver7 in silhouette about a “crying room” and other intimidation tactics, compounded by the fact that Smith’s wife, Brenda, served as HR chief — a glaring conflict of interest that gave employees “no place to go if there are any issues.” And there were plenty. 

When Smith retired, he scored a $165,000 payout for unused leave. The school board never chastised Smith, let alone challenged his retirement claim. 

“It’s a disgrace,” one former employee, requesting anonymity, told me in January. “The board is allowing him to retire and keep everything rather than fire him for his behavior. Why retire now if everything you’re doing is ethically, morally and legally correct?” 

Amid the scrutiny, Brenda Smith and Assistant Superintendent Tony Poole — who also faces conflict of interest allegations related to his wife, Neurodiverse Student Services Director Rebecca López — were placed on administrative leave. 

Denver7 reported on 14 employment contracts improperly signed by the district — worth hundreds of thousands of dollars — including 12 teachers, an assistant principal and assistant superintendent Toby Arritola, who was conspicuously promoted to lead the Educational Services Center three days before Smith’s retirement. The revelations stemmed from an open records request submitted by Lamar. 

Now on defense, the once-great district touts an “accountability and communication” page — a polished public relations move. But a webpage isn’t accountability. 

“This is not my Cherry Creek,” Lamar told me. “The corruption that’s being exposed? I expect that from Denver. Never in my worst nightmare did I expect this for Cherry Creek.” 

Jimmy Sengenberger is an investigative journalist, public speaker, and longtime local talk-radio host. Reach Jimmy online at Jimmysengenberger.com or on X (formerly Twitter) @SengCenter.