Two years ago, Colorado’s State Board of Education abandoned a yearlong effort to take charge of the beleaguered Adams 14 School District, based in Commerce City north of Denver. The board backed off under pressure from leaders in other districts, likely concerned about their own failures.

The district was cratering so badly in its academic performance, the bipartisan state board initially felt it was necessary to exercise the extraordinary, rare power of a state takeover.

We were deeply disappointed at the state’s about-face. Adams 14 has struggled with state-mandated turnaround and priority improvement plans for a dozen years, even briefly becoming the state’s first district to lose accreditation. And it has shown little progress since.

The district is small and, sadly, off the radar, with only 5,400 students, 90% of them Hispanic and 90% from low-income households. Yet, it has become the poster child for many of the woes afflicting public education across Colorado in general. Adams 14 in fact serves as a cautionary tale for how bad things can get in our schools — Exhibit A in the case for education reform.

Against that backdrop, you’d think the district’s locally elected board might possess a seriousness of purpose and determination to clean things up.

You’d be wrong.

Enter Luz “Lucy” Molina, a board member since 2022, who has a penchant for using her phone to shoot videos of constituents speaking at public comment during board meetings.

As The Gazette reported last week, Molina was caught several times pulling out her cellphone and filming as constituents spoke, including a then-candidate for the board. She even appeared to speak into her phone while recording.

“It’s an intimidation factor,” said one of the speakers, Nicolas Hernandez of the advocacy group Transform Education Now.

He’s right. A board member filming speakers sends a clear message: you’re being watched by an elected official overseeing your kids’ school.

But board President Reneé Lovato brushed it off. She noted the district’s policies don’t prohibit a director from recording speakers and declined to say whether she supported Molina’s actions.

Obviously, she didn’t denounce them, either. Does the president think it’s okay for her colleagues to harass the public as they address their elected board?

In a statement to The Denver Gazette’s news staff, district spokesperson Jackie Ramirez noted board meetings are public and recorded — though the district only keeps audio, not video.

“Both audience members and members of the Board of Education have a right to record public meetings,” Ramirez said. “The Board will not comment about whether someone feels ‘intimidated’ about being recorded at a public recorded meeting.”

Of course, everyone has the “right” to film a public meeting. But that doesn’t mean you should — especially when you’re an elected official glaring at constituents from the dais, talking to your phone as you record for reasons they can only wonder.

Intimidate speakers enough, and they might think twice before showing up at all. That’s called dodging accountability by silencing dissent.

Given the district’s indifference, it’s no surprise Molina essentially thumbed her nose at parents and the public when asked to explain her behavior.

“Why do I record? Because they did it to me,” Molina told The Gazette last month, alleging a political conspiracy to undermine her reputation.

It’s troubling the rest of the Adams 14 school board, and the administration, don’t seem to care. It’s more troubling still that children and teachers have to live with it. 

Will the adults in the room please stand up?