But it became evident over the coming weeks that there was a group of legislators from each party who had no interest in what we had to say.

It wasn’t long before we knew, with a fair degree of confidence, who was on our side, and who wasn’t. During the votes for the prison appropriation, that number changed from day-to-day. But it taught us a LOT about politics in Arkansas. Our conclusion can be summed up in one word: disappointing.

The RPA was not among our supporters. They largely ignored any attempts we made to speak with them despite our own Adam Watson being chosen as the late Senator Gary Stubblefield’s proxy for their state committee meeting.

Many names (not all) of those who did not even want to listen to us are mentioned in Conduit’s excellent and timely reporting on the issues persisting inside the RPA.

Spoiler alert, it includes the following:

• Ballot-stuffing precedent (2024)
• Selective, retroactive rule enforcement in 2026
• Factually false claim about Robert’s Rules
• Misrepresenting a federal court ruling
• Conflicted, arguably biased Credentials Committee
• Disparate treatment vs. other counties
• Pattern of centralizing power

So our ask is for you to do your own research. Look back at each vote and how your elected representatives voted. Have conversations with them about why they voted the way they did. If they won’t speak to you… Well, that speaks for itself. Consider the following when evaluating your elected officials, especially the ones you voted for.

🚩Were they speaking for you?
🚩Were they toeing the line and voting in-step with the wishes of SHS?
🚩Are you better off as a result of the way they voted?
🚩 Is your healthcare affordable and covered?
🚩Do you care for a child who needs CES waiver services to live safely at home with their families?
🚩Did eliminating the grocery tax save you a noticeable amount of money?
🚩Are your groceries and gas affordable?

November 3rd is around the corner. Arkansas has a chance to send a message to our legislators and our executive branch that we don’t want politicians paid for by special interests. We want Arkansans to represent us and the best interests of our communities.

That it has been two years since an unsuitable, unsustainable site was selected in secret for this prison with no plan is almost comical.

Almost. If it wasn’t so serious.

On Tuesday, Senator Alan Clark chaired the joint Judiciary Committee meeting of the Arkansas legislature to begin what will be a series of hearings held this fall meant to clear the fog, define the need for prison beds in Arkansas, and examine possible solutions.

No one disputes there is a need for corrections investment, we’ve discussed it ourselves many times. But taxpayers expect our elected officials and appointed representatives to put egos aside and do the hard work of making the best decision for our state.

It is not a huge ask.

The Order In Which Things Should Happen

Sound, competent governance follows a basic pattern: identify the problem, coordinate across all stakeholders, gather evidence and data within areas of expertise, share information, devise a plan, set it in motion.

But not in Arkansas. In Arkansas, apparently, we do things in reverse by putting a plan in motion before gathering any data, blindside the stakeholders and then get around to defining the need.

Not that we don’t commend the committee for digging in and doing the work, we do. But we beg of us as a state to learn from this colossal demonstration in how not to lead.

The Timeline

Consider the sequence, in the state’s own record:

• December 2022 — Sen. Bart Hester, in an interview with 40/29’s On the Record, cites the known need for increased capacity, confirms DOC’s own estimate of 1,000-plus beds needed, and says the number he’s hearing — 3,000 — is what’s being projected instead.

• November 2023 — The Executive branch publicly criticizes the Board of Corrections for not moving faster on bed expansion.

• December 2023 — A Department of Corrections senior auditor submits a memo outlining safety and infrastructure concerns tied to that same bed expansion.

• Late October 2024 — The Franklin County site is announced publicly.

• July 2025 — Board of Corrections member Lee Watson tells legislators, in writing, that the Board was never told and never shown evidence that a 3,000-bed prison was needed.

• September 2025 — At the hearing on Gravel & Grit’s citizen complaint, we learned area Rep. Jon Eubanks and Sen. Gary Stubblefield were given two days’ notice before the site was announced. Director Anne Laidlaw informed the Joint Performance Review Committee that community buy-in, once cited by then Secretary Profiri in November of 2023 as critical, would be the next step. After land acquisition.

• August 2026 — The state opens a series of hearings to define the need and develop solutions — the step that, by any normal sequence, comes first.

Look, we aren’t senators nor representatives but we can read the timeline and easily determine we have a serious communication and coordination problem. If documents exist outlining investments needed to safely expand bedspace for both the prisoner and the staff, should that not be factored into the budget? Who makes the ask? Who sets the number? Who do they coordinate with – and when?

What This Actually Costs Us

It shouldn’t take concerned citizens pointing out poor behavior and leadership across the board to get things done. Jockeying for power and bickering over who the decision maker is, and did you ask nicely enough, is not going to solve our corrections issues. Neither will throwing more money at a sparingly researched, horribly communicated, one-size-fits-all project that barely has a concept of a plan.

But here we are. And at least those with decision making power are now asking questions and bringing a variety of perspectives to the table. That should be commended.

DOC Secretary, Lindsey Wallace, confirming what we at Gravel & Grit suspected, which is that the Franklin County prison site is still a consideration. Likely, still a front runner.

Next time, make sure it happens long before the state invests millions in a poorly vetted solution.

Leave Egos at the Door

What the citizens of Arkansas would genuinely appreciate through this effort is if everyone privileged enough to speak in that room left their egos at the door, they rolled up their sleeves, and did the hard work for their constituents. Too often their energy is spent attacking others and preserving their position instead.

This is not a social club with cliques. It is state governance using taxpayer dollars.

Act like it.

Seventy years ago, a small town in Franklin County, Arkansas quietly did something the rest of the former Confederacy wasn’t willing to do. Last week, the Supreme Court handed down a ruling that makes what happened then worth talking about again.

I am a multi-generational daughter of that community – a Charleston graduate, reared in the Peter Pender community at the base of Mill Creek Mountain, down the back roads that no one frequents. My great-uncle, as he liked to joke, was the “best lawyer in a one-lawyer town.” That was Dale Bumpers and when the Charleston School Board came to him in the summer of 1954, two months after Brown v. Board of Education was issued, his counsel was characteristically direct: do the right thing before someone makes you. Five men voted unanimously to integrate. They did it quietly, without announcement, and the story wasn’t reported for three weeks after the school year had already begun.

When segregationists tried to undo it three years later — emboldened by the spectacle in Little Rock — they lost. The community held.

That history is not abstract to me. It is the soil on which my foundation was built. So, when I watch a Supreme Court ruling land on a Wednesday and state legislatures across the South reach for their redistricting pens by Thursday, I recognize something. I was reared by people who understand that the distance between principle and convenience is exactly where character lives. Someone is always testing it. As James Madison rightfully contended in Federalist No. 51, “If men were angels, no government would be necessary.”

What the Court Undid

The ruling does not, on its face, repeal the Voting Rights Act. Justice Alito’s majority opinion is careful to say so. What it does is move the legal standard from outcomes to intent. For sixty years, a map that consistently diluted Black voting power was a violation — regardless of what the legislature claimed its reasons were. Now you must prove they meant to discriminate. That is a standard designed to be nearly impossible to meet, which is precisely why Congress rejected it in 1982.

Justice Kagan’s dissent is worth reading in full. She calls it “the latest chapter in the majority’s now-completed demolition of the Voting Rights Act” — a law, she reminds us, born of actual bloodshed.

The effect of the ruling, whatever one thinks of its legal reasoning, was visible within the hour. Florida lawmakers immediately moved toward another mid-decade redraw before the ink was dry. Louisiana suspended its own primary election. Alabama and Tennessee called special sessions. Analysts project Republicans could gain up to 18 new House seats directly attributable to maps that enact the disparate outcomes the ruling now outlines as legally permissible.

The actions taken by state legislatures immediately following the ruling speak for themselves. While the majority SCOTUS opinion prefers to imagine a world in which racism no longer requires structural remedy, most of us don’t have the luxury of that abstraction.

The Wound

The communities being carved up in these new maps — in Tampa, in Memphis, in Atlanta — are in many cases the descendants of people who bled to secure the franchise. The VRA was not an abstraction to them. It was the legislative acknowledgment that the preceding century had been a deliberate, systematic effort to exclude them from self-governance.

The ancestors of my extended family are among those communities. So, when I say that watching that protection be eroded — and then watching, within twenty-four hours, legislative bodies in state after state reach for the newly freed opportunity — it produces in me something I can only call horror as I am not speaking from a comfortable distance. I know my perspective is still one step removed from those most directly harmed. I can only wonder what it must feel like at the center of it.

A Fraction of a Fraction

The Court has consistently claimed that partisan gerrymandering — drawing maps to benefit one political party — is a political question beyond judicial remedy. That was Rucho v. Common Cause in 2019. Structural exclusion isn’t unique to national politics, it operates at every level as I have learned living in a politically gerrymandered state most of my adult life. I am not a registered Democrat nor am I Republican; Arkansas doesn’t offer an Independent registration as an option, so my registration reads “Unaffiliated.”

John Brummett — among the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette’s sharpest political observers and a man with no illusions about this state — has written with characteristic frankness that Arkansas doesn’t have much of a two-party system, and seldom really has.

Rex Nelson, the paper’s senior editor and a veteran of Republican politics — who served in the Huckabee administration and has covered this state from the right for decades — arrived at the same diagnosis from the other direction. Writing in 2021, Nelson once warned that the GOP, on its present course, risked becoming “simply a regional force” answerable to no one. Nelson's warning was about the national party, but the structural reality he described has a zip code here. Most consequential races in Arkansas are decided in the Republican primary, not the general election

Now consider what that primary represents. For example, Arkansas has approximately 1.8 million registered voters. Fewer than 1 in 14 registered Arkansas voters chose to register as Republicans - and Democrats fewer still. Most — roughly 85% — are unaffiliated or “optional.” That’s more than 8 in 10 Arkansas voters who don’t ascribe to any particular political tribe. This was also the first primary under a new rule prohibiting registered Democrats from voting in the Republican primary.

In a non-presidential midterm primary, turnout historically runs 20-25% of all registered voters with Arkansas consistently being among the lowest in voter turnout. The Republican primary — that today effectively determines most races here — was decided by a fraction of a fraction of the electorate. When a candidate only needs to appeal to a tiny sliver of the electorate to secure their seat, governing for all constituents becomes optional.

One only needs to remain acceptable to those willing to write checks for the next cycle.

This is not a partisan critique — it is a structural observation about what happens when electoral competition disappears. Unengaged representatives are the predictable product of uncontested elections.

The Empty Room

In August, members of Gravel & Grit testified before the joint City, County & Local Affairs Committee held in Rogers and co-chaired by the late Senator Gary Stubblefield. Despite being held in the town in which I reside, I never saw my senator and my representative left before public comment began. The room was largely empty by the time I spoke.

That didn’t bother me on a personal level. Debate rounds during formative years will do that — you learn to advocate for the argument’s sake, not the audience’s. Sitting while speaking was harder. But the substance held. What did bother me is that most of the elected representatives sitting on the committee could not be burdened to stay and listen to the actual citizens impacted.

Citizen testimony begins at 6:50.

The point is not that I can comfortably advocate in an empty room. The point is that no citizen should. The founders did not design a republic premised on the assumption that ordinary people would have to become relentless advocates simply to be heard by their own representatives. We have drifted some distance from that assumption. The distance is measurable.

And Yet Hope Still Lives

I want to be clear that I am not writing in despair, because I have seen Arkansas officials with integrity do the right thing, ask the right questions, and hold concern for the implications of all of Arkansas – not just their desired connections, account balance, or political future.

During the past eighteen months working to oppose the Franklin County prison project alongside people across the political spectrum — most of them Republicans — I watched legislators and decision makers constructively engage and listen. Not every one of them, and not always. But enough. I have seen the spirit of something I can only call actual representative governance flicker into view, in rooms where it had no particular reason to appear. I have witnessed Republican and Democratic lawmakers alike question the scant information they were provided for this project knowing they would be targeted and choosing to act anyway. I have witnessed them stand up to tremendous political pressure to do right by the Arkansas taxpayer.

Also consider what has played out simultaneously in the courts. The Arkansas Board of Corrections, a constitutionally independent body, created specifically to insulate prison management from the political winds that blow through the Capitol, spent the better part of two years fighting laws that would have handed the governor direct operational control over the state’s prison system. They hired outside counsel. They sued. The Attorney General sued them back. When the Arkansas Supreme Court signaled it was likely to rule in the board’s favor, the terms of engagement abruptly shifted: settlement offers appeared, a newly installed Sanders-majority on the board accepted them 4-3, and the board that had been on the verge of a constitutional victory instead endorsed the very laws it had been challenging.

Board member Lee Watson — one of the dissenters, an attorney appointed by Governor Hutchinson — said publicly that the board had nothing to gain from settling and everything to lose by abandoning the constitutional question before the court could answer it. He was outvoted.

That is what the erosion of institutional independence looks like from the inside. Not a dramatic moment. A slow bleed and a 4-3 vote. But despite pressure there are still people willing to stand up for our state’s constitution and that is worth celebrating.

And I have watched ordinary Arkansans do something that the structure of our politics actively discourages: step outside their comfort zone. Colt Shelby, another generational native of Franklin County, is running for governor as a Libertarian. He sued the state to force a timely special election after Senator Gary Stubblefield’s untimely death, honorably arguing that his district deserved representation in our representative republic. Whatever one thinks of his odds in November, that is a person deciding that the available options were insufficient and doing something about it. That is worth noting.

That is not nothing. In fact, it might be everything.

Madison wrote in Federalist No. 51: “Ambition must be made to counteract ambition.” The structure of the republic is designed with the assumption that people will pursue their interests. The question is whether those interests can be channeled toward accountability rather than away from it. In Franklin County, at least intermittently, they can be.

Regnat Populus

Arkansas’s state motto is Regnat Populus — the people rule. It is an aspiration, not a description. It has never been fully true, not for everyone, not all at once. But it is the aspiration that makes the experiment worth continuing.

What the US Supreme Court did last week is make the gap between aspiration and description wider for some of our fellow citizens — the ones whose grandparents were told it didn’t apply to them, and who have been slowly, painfully closing that gap ever since. That is a legitimate grievance, and it deserves to be named as such.

I learned from my hometown community that the gap can be closed with persistence and perseverance when working together no matter your political differences. That the governance as the founders intended is still possible, even in unpromising circumstances, if enough people are willing to show up for it, and especially when it is the right thing to do.

Not just the professionally outraged. Not just those with resources to hire lobbyists.

Everyone.

Stay informed, seek alternate perspectives, ask questions, be open-minded. If you are not registered to vote - register. If you are registered to vote, make a plan, find your precinct, recruit 5 friends, and vote in every election. Reach out to your representatives and hold them to account. The people can’t rule if the people don’t participate.

As Thomas Jefferson plainly stated in 1781: “Every government degenerates when trusted to the rulers of the people alone. The people themselves, therefore, are its only safe depositories.”

Today Americans often treat politics as sport. We pick a team. We cheer when our side wins. We defend our players. And too often, we mistake victory for good government.

The founders of our republic envisioned something very different.

Republican government requires more from its citizens than blind loyalty to their “team.” Our system was never meant to entertain like sport. It was designed for careful deliberation and decisions aimed at the common good. The framers understood this system required an engaged public willing to question decisions, careful examination of information, and remaining attentive to the exercise of power.

James Madison warned that the greatest threat to this design was not disagreement, but faction — the moment when we begin to see politics as a contest between tribes rather than a shared responsibility to maintain the health of the republic. When loyalty to your side replaces scrutiny of decisions, the guardrails built to protect self-government weaken. As Madison famously wrote, “Ambition must be made to counteract ambition.”

Our constitutional republic was constructed to manage this process for the betterment of all through institutional friction, debate, oversight, competing branches of government, and an engaged public that asks difficult questions. Yet every day Americans across the country are wrestling with the effects of increasingly tribal politics the very factionalism the Constitution was designed to restrain.

But republican government was never meant to operate as a team sport.

Arkansas offers a microcosm of the American experiment today… a place where the pressures shaping American politics become visible at a human scale. Durable majorities, strong personalities, and highly polarized national politics can create the impression that outcomes are predetermined before debate even begins. When citizens believe that nothing they say will matter, they understandably disengage. We owe it to those who came before us to fight that urge.

Recent elections remind us that engaged voters still evaluate leaders on their principles and decisions on their merit. This year, several Arkansas races relevant to these pressures drew significant attention and remind us that voters hold the power to send a message about leadership, attentiveness, and responsiveness.

Regardless of where one stands politically, those outcomes illustrate an important point: citizens are not merely spectators. They are the most important participants in our constitutional system.

The framers assumed that participation would endure and representatives would listen. We still believe that is possible.

When the process works, disagreement is not dysfunction. It is a safeguard.

Thoughtful scrutiny of public decisions is not disloyalty, but rather it is part of the responsibility entrusted to both citizens and those elected to represent them.

This matters more than ever as Arkansas approaches another legislative session.

Public decisions, especially those with long-term consequences, demand careful deliberation, access to information, and meaningful opportunities for citizens to remain engaged. Constructive dialogue, transparency, and participation do not maintain themselves. They require attention from both elected officials and the people they serve.

Politics will always involve competition. Elections will always produce winners and losers. But the long-term health of our republic depends on something deeper than victory.

It depends on citizens and public officials who see politics not as entertainment or tribal rivalry, but as a shared responsibility that cannot be delivered by institutions alone. It is sustained by the steady participation of the people themselves. Win or lose, when the dust settles we must roll up our sleeves and get to work.

Over the past year, Gravel & Grit approached civic engagement in that spirit… seeking information, working with willing leaders, and collaborating with citizens and public officials across the state. We know our system depends on a simple principle the founding generation understood well:

Republics rarely falter because citizens care too much about public life. They falter when people begin to believe their participation no longer matters. They understood that liberty is preserved not by agreement, but by participation.

Self-government requires participation, not spectatorship.

It is not partisanship. It is not obstruction. It is citizenship.

It is the work of a republic.

We explore this effort in a three-part series examining our experience in civic engagement alongside the responsibilities of both citizens and public officials. Each essay examines our endeavor that reflects a simple premise the founders understood well: republican government works best when citizens remain engaged, when decisions are carefully measured, and when leadership is treated as a responsibility rather than a prize.

The founders knew a republic thrives when citizens engage. Self-government is not something we watch. It is something we do. So if sports metaphors are your preference, citizens are not the crowd in the stands but rather the players on the field. We may run different plays but our goal line is the same.

In case you missed it, we invite you to read the series and stay engaged.

Regnat Populus Series:

1. Citizenship As Action

2. Measure Twice, Cut Once

3. Leadership As a Verb

The Work of a Republic

A healthy democracy does not run on autopilot.

A republic only works when citizens stay involved.

The founders understood that even strong institutions can drift if citizens disengage, if asking hard questions becomes politically costly, or if power stops encountering meaningful resistance. They wrote extensively on the delicate balance between liberty and authority. James Madison in particular warned that liberty is not only threatened by tyrants, but by complacency; by authority that grows quietly when oversight fades and outcomes begin to feel predetermined.

That tension feels especially relevant in Arkansas today.

A durable legislative supermajority, increasingly centralized policy decisions, and large-scale projects with long-term public consequences have changed the practical dynamics of governance in our state. None of that is inherently illegitimate — elections matter and majorities govern. But durable systems require more than just getting the votes. They also require scrutiny, institutional friction, and public engagement.

In healthy democratic systems, that engagement is met with a responsive government.

Madison believed that concentrated power rarely arrives suddenly. It accumulates gradually; especially when citizens assume someone else is paying attention. His warning was not aimed at any one person or party, but at the natural tendency of power to concentrate unless it is balanced. Whether achieved through structure, deliberation, or citizen vigilance, he was explicit about the danger of concentrated authority. In Federalist No. 47 (1788), he wrote:

“The accumulation of all powers, legislative, executive, and judiciary, in the same hands, whether of one, a few, or many, and whether hereditary, self-appointed, or elective, may justly be pronounced the very definition of tyranny.”

From One Decision to a Larger Question

What began as opposition to a site selection evolved into a broader reflection about how decisions are made and how citizens can improve them. We assembled a coalition from all perspectives and dug deep into the research. We engaged stakeholders and subject matter experts. Along each step we’ve encountered remarkable and thoughtful Arkansans willing to offer advice, information, or simply cheer on our advocacy. The selection of rural South Franklin County for the state’s mega-prison plans inspired many to stand up for the first time. It also provided an important lesson.

Healthy republican government isn’t sustained by agreement alone. It is sustained by informed citizens who stay involved and understand that civic participation cannot be a fleeting moment or a stepping stone, it’s a standing responsibility.

And that responsibility is mutual: citizens must stay engaged, and those entrusted with office must be willing to act in the interest of the citizens they serve.

The initial question about one site became an examination of how power is exercised, how process is protected, and how citizens can remain involved even when told the outcome is inevitable. Healthy institutions depend on structured disagreement, not as obstruction, but rather a safeguard against blind spots.

From the onset, some dismissed our concerns as irrelevant, pure NIMBYism, or ideologically motivated. Over time, the facts and the testimony have spoken for themselves.

Most people don’t wake up wanting to fight the government. They speak up when decisions affect their communities, livelihoods, or taxpayer obligations. After more than a year closely observing the legislative process in Little Rock, we believe that rule-making and major public decisions belong in committee rooms and public hearings where records are kept, testimony is heard, and accountability is preserved. Arkansas deserves to know how decisions are made… and why. That is precisely why the founders devised a system that assumes power must be examined, not simply trusted.

Recent legislative sessions remind us why sustained civic engagement matters. Changes to public-records laws, evolving practices within public meetings, and ongoing debates over the citizen initiative process have all quietly reshaped how Arkansans access information and participate directly in governance. Reasonable people can disagree about the merits of those changes, but the broader lesson is clear:

And engagement is rarely convenient. It means time away from family, time away from work, long drives to sit in committee rooms, and the willingness to speak about issues that may be uncomfortable. Many Arkansans who stepped forward in recent months had never done so before. They did so not out of hostility, but because they believe that participation matters.

When citizens disengage, procedural shifts can occur with little public scrutiny — and over time, those shifts can alter how responsive the government feels to the people it serves.

Stewardship Means Preserving Institutional Memory

Civic engagement strengthens accountability from the outside. Institutional memory strengthens decision-making from within. And while leadership changes bring fresh perspectives, they also make continuity more important.

The information provided during the Joint Performance Review hearing — covering workforce realities, infrastructure needs, operational risks, and long-term fiscal implications reflected decades of institutional knowledge that helps decision-makers avoid past pitfalls. Equally important is constructive engagement with legislators who have witnessed the evolution of the corrections system and know the intent and desired outcomes of their legislative initiatives.

Institutional memory is not nostalgia. It is accumulated public investment learned over decades of experience.

If that experience were to be sidelined, the State risks repeating costly mistakes, disrupting progress already underway, and delaying ideas from being developed by experienced practitioners.

Arkansas has the opportunity to better coordinate state offices and branches to develop a strategic corrections plan informed by stakeholders across the state rather than in a closed room. Decisions of this scale are best served by processes that create a durable record that can withstand public scrutiny.

Large public projects can be both decisive and disciplined, shaped by operational expertise, informed by public input, and grounded in a record strong enough to withstand strenuous fiscal review.

That also shapes public confidence. Transparency, consultation, and a disciplined approach are the fastest ways to build that trust.

Governance is a Discipline

Strong governance isn’t about personality. It’s about sound process, operational consistency, informed decision-making, and careful stewardship of taxpayer resources. Arkansas has demonstrated that capacity, and there is every reason it can continue to do so. Listening carefully to experts and stakeholders doesn’t slow progress. It helps ensure investments work the first time, saving taxpayers time, money, and frustration.

Thoughtful deliberation requires operational expertise and verified data, not convenience or momentum. The public, and at minimum their elected representatives, deserve access to relevant information as decisions take shape.

When decisions carry consequences for the taxpayer that will impact legislative initiatives for decades, clarity, expertise, and stewardship become obligations, not options.

Self-Government Is Not Passive

If you take nothing else from this, remember that self-government is not passive. Madison did not design a system that runs on goodwill alone. He assumed ambition would counter ambition, institutions would check institutions, and citizens would remain attentive to the exercise of power.

That attentiveness is not hostility. It is participation. It is how republics endure.

Though civic participation does require access: open records, open meetings, and clear processes that allow everyday Arkansans to take part in their own government. When access becomes harder, input and advocacy isn’t feasible for the average person. Inevitably over time, that leads to a government that feels less responsive to the people it serves.

Public leadership is a responsibility exercised through transparent process, careful deliberation, and the willingness to be accountable to the people. It is practiced by those entrusted with office through the disciplined pursuit of information, strengthening of institutions meant to outlive their term, and faithful service to their constituents. It is executed by citizens through active participation, oversight of decision-making, and the willingness to ask hard questions while casting informed ballots.

Arkansas has had a tradition of practical governance and strong civic engagement. That tradition requires ongoing attention from both citizens and those entrusted with public authority. Madison understood something we sometimes forget: republics do not fail because people care too much… they falter when citizens believe their participation no longer matters.

The founders gave us both a republic and the tools to sustain it. What happens next depends less on institutions than on whether we choose to remain engaged in them.

Happy 250th birthday, United States of America.

Gravel & Grit would like to thank the Joint Performance Review Committee for granting us the opportunity to present our citizen complaint regarding the Franklin County site selection process at the September hearing. We want to express our deepest gratitude to the co-chairs, Senator Terry Rice and Representative Bruce Cozart, every member of the committee, as well as other members of both the House and Senate for listening to our concerns and staying engaged in the conversation. We also thank Director Shelby Johnson, Director Anne Laidlaw, former Board of Corrections Chairman Benny Magness, and Board of Corrections Member Lee Watson for taking time to provide their testimony. It was appreciated.

We remain committed to open dialogue with all stakeholders in the future.

Most importantly, we thank Senator Gary Stubblefield, who exemplified Madisonian democracy in his willingness to be an institutional check and balance as well as through his dedicated and faithful service to his constituents.

Why Arkansans Are Paying Attention

Over the past year, some Arkansans found themselves pulled into civic engagement; not because they wanted a fight, but because decisions were made that affect their own communities in very concrete ways. When that happens, people start asking questions, questions that matter. They compare notes. And sometimes they realize the full picture isn’t as clear as they were led to believe.

That’s not unusual in government. But when decisions will shape public safety, budgetary expenditures, and taxpayer obligations for decades, clarity matters. Careful planning matters.

While the Joint Performance Review hearing granted for Gravel & Grit’s citizen complaint didn’t provide much by way of answers, it did clarify something important: testimony at the hearing suggests some public assertions about the project timeline may not fully align with how the process actually unfolded.

That matters, not because anyone expects perfection, but because transparency, coordination, and realistic planning are essential. Most Arkansans agree the corrections system faces real pressure. The question is whether we’re taking a true “measure twice, cut once” approach, slowing down just enough to make sure the plan works financially, operationally, and for the communities expected to support it.

When public decisions carry decades of taxpayer impact, transparency, coordination, and workforce reality aren’t optional — they’re prerequisites.

“Community Buy-In”: A Talking Point or a Real Factor?

Throughout the prison site selection process, “community buy-in” was repeatedly described as a key factor for its success. That sounded reasonable. Major infrastructure projects work best when local officials, residents, and agencies are engaged early.

Representative John Eubanks, who represents the affected area, stated plainly:

When Representative Frances Cavenaugh questioned whether any state officials were responsible for obtaining community buy-in, like prior responses it was described as “not our lane,” and that responsibility would have fallen on the owner’s representative to lead — despite that representative being hired only days before the property closed.

That sequence raises reasonable questions. If the land was purchased before community sentiment could realistically be assessed and before the Board of Corrections (BOC) accepted the property on behalf of the Department of Corrections, then community buy-in doesn’t appear to have been a determining factor.

That’s not an accusation — it’s a timeline issue.

Who Was Leading the Process?

Further clarification came from former BOC Chairman Benny Magness, who noted during the hearing that when other State officials referenced “corrections” during their testimony, they appeared to be referring to decisions associated with the now Governor’s Senior Advisor rather than the BOC.

Further testimony indicated the 3000-bed mega-prison project did not originate with the BOC itself. We also learned several communities do want corrections development and that meeting Arkansas’s evolving public safety needs may require a variety of facility types, services, and approaches to address both incarceration pressures and rehabilitation outcomes.

Again, this doesn’t assign blame. But it does suggest the lines of authority, communication, and responsibility weren’t always clear — and clarity matters for projects of this scale to be successfully executed.

When Coordination Breaks Down, Costs Rise

There’s little need for us to rehash the conflict between the Governor’s Office, the Board of Corrections, and the Legislature. That happens in government. But when offices and branches compete over authority instead of aligning around outcomes — public safety, fiscal responsibility, workforce stability — decisions can become reactive instead of strategic.

Arkansans expect more from our government where our tax dollars are concerned.

And to be fair, Arkansas does get a lot right in corrections. The department has maintained ACA accreditation in all facilities, operates efficiently compared to many states, and has dedicated professionals who take the job seriously. Legislators across administrations have generally treated corrections as a serious responsibility. The Governor is committed to a public safety investment.

That foundation is worth recognizing.

Because the real question now isn’t whether Arkansas cares about public safety. It clearly does. The question is whether building one large mega-facility is the smartest way forward — or whether a mix of smaller expansions, upgrades, and strategically placed regional facilities might better serve the state and in a more timely fashion.

That’s not politics. That’s strategic planning.

And it becomes even more relevant as leadership transitions happen and a new legislative session begins. Those moments shape direction for years.

Communication Breakdowns Don’t Stay Internal

Throughout the hearing, several legislators raised concerns about coordination between the Governor’s Office, the Board of Corrections, and the Legislature. Questions from Representatives and Senators alike highlighted uncertainty about who was leading the long-term corrections strategy and how decisions were being communicated.

That uncertainty isn’t just bureaucratic housekeeping. When communication falters on major infrastructure projects:

• timelines slip

• costs increase

• operational realities get overlooked

Those are practical risks, not political talking points.

Big Facilities vs. Flexible Solutions

We know with the Protect Act implementation, the prison population increase will necessitate bedspace investment. But this process has prompted a broader question: are we making the best long-term investment decision for Arkansas public safety?

Large projects can generate headlines. They don’t always generate flexibility.

Lawmakers at the hearing asked about alternatives — multiple smaller facilities, addressing a variety of offender rehabilitation needs, and expanding already staffed locations. Some corrections officials noted certain expansions could deliver beds more efficiently than a large, one-size fits all new facility. Other officials and legislators agree that using the same “cookie cutter” approach does not fit today’s penal and carceral landscape.

What seems increasingly clear is that a multi-faceted approach may better serve the Arkansas taxpayer.

This conversation is important because correctional needs are both urgent and complex. As BOC member Lee Watson noted during his JPR testimony, there may not be “one band-aid that cures it all.”

Large projects can be part of a solution — but rarely the only one.

Workforce Realities Can’t Be Ignored

Some of our Franklin County native members work in Human Resources, so the ongoing corrections staffing challenges naturally caught our attention. With years of experience staffing facilities throughout the state – including a large industrial facility in Independence County – the Jackson County discussion piqued our interest. That prior experience reinforced a simple HR reality: workforce stability is part data analysis, part psychology, and part genuine community integration. When that balance slips, hiring and retention follow.

That’s why the Grimes and McPherson Units matter here. Much like the proposed Franklin County site these state facilities are located in a predominately rural county, outside a Metropolitan Statistical Area (MSA), but competing with nearby labor markets offering comparable wages with more career opportunities. That competition matters, especially for corrections work, where staffing is already difficult.

Wages and unemployment across both Jackson and Franklin County’s labor markets are strikingly similar, so we looked into the concentration of corrections officers and jailers in protective service occupations within each. The Bureau of Labor Statistics area data shows Fort Smith and West Arkansas regions already more concentrated for that line of work than Jonesboro and North Arkansas. In plain terms: it appears the Franklin County labor pool is already stretched for these positions before the prison is even built.

Meanwhile, the Jackson County units benefit from closer employee access to childcare, healthcare, retail, restaurants, and interstate access via I-57.

Work-life balance — something Mr. Profiri identified as critical — only sharpens that contrast. While Jackson and Franklin County are similar, their available workforces are not. Jackson County job seekers have fewer competing industries and employers which changes workforce behavior. Choice drives employment decision-making, especially in hard-to-staff fields where schedule, commute, and community infrastructure matter. Location and access to everyday services directly affect recruitment and retention.

Commuting realities make the issue even clearer. The Franklin County site requires a 20-plus mile, 30-minute commute after exiting I-40 or the future I-49 with limited to no services along the route. When the average commute within that labor market is 15-minutes, it creates competition issues. When similar pay exists across multiple industries, that time matters to potential employees.

And given the stated concerns about workforce cannibalization combined with the closing of the Washington County’s North Arkansas Community Corrections Center in 2024, having a site with a sustainable drive for those former employees seems particularly relevant along with the ability to tap into their labor market.

The top sites identified by state officials before settling for South Franklin County reflect this reality.

Relevant Questions Remain Unanswered

Even after extensive public discussion, several practical questions about the proposed corrections investment remain open. Arkansans still don’t have a fully consolidated picture of:

• Short and long-term infrastructure development costs and how they limit overall project scope and budget

• How rate-payers will be impacted related to those infrastructure costs

• Long-term workforce feasibility at the selected site

• How evolving operational needs and environmental landscape impact value engineering opportunities and complicate the completion timeline

Greater clarity around coordination, infrastructure sequencing, and contingency planning would help taxpayers understand both fiscal exposure and operational viability.

These aren’t academic details, but rather the factors that often determine whether major public projects deliver lasting value or require expensive course corrections.

Why We’ll Stay Engaged

This opposition isn’t ideological. It’s experiential. Generational familiarity with the land, infrastructure, workforce patterns, and economic realities naturally leads to worry about long-term feasibility.

Some dismiss those concerns. Others see them as practical local knowledge that deserves consideration alongside comprehensive analysis.

What Happens Next Matters

Arkansas still has decisions ahead:

• fiscal appropriations

• design commitments

• infrastructure planning

• operational strategy

Those decisions will shape the corrections system and taxpayer obligations for decades.

Encouragingly, legislators across perspectives are asking tougher questions about process, communication, and long-term consequences. Oversight works best when stakeholders stay engaged as silence rarely improves public decisions.

Leadership is required throughout the life of a project. It requires constant listening, coordinating, and adjusting when facts evolve, especially when using taxpayer funds.

Leadership, Stewardship, and Getting It Right

Most Arkansans aren’t looking for political fights, they’re looking for pragmatic decisions. We prefer straight talk, fiscal prudence, and practical solutions. Most people simply want decisions that make sense five, ten, or twenty years from now, not just today.

The goal isn’t to win an argument. It’s to get this right.

And that requires continued public attention, transparent decision-making, and leadership willing to adjust when facts change. Because good outcomes usually start with clear answers — and around here, we’ve always understood the wisdom of measuring twice before cutting once.

The Founders understood something Arkansans still value: leadership works best when it reflects thoughtful community input, not rushed decisions.

We at Gravel & Grit remain committed to constructive dialogue with all stakeholders including legislators, corrections professionals, community leaders, and industry experts.

In 1779, when drafting his state’s constitution, John Adams wrote “the people alone have an incontestable, unalienable, and indefeasible right to institute government.” He had previously warned that “liberty cannot be preserved without a general knowledge among the people.” Put simply: self-government only works when ordinary citizens are willing to do the unglamorous, often thankless work of paying attention, asking questions, and staying engaged.

Thomas Jefferson made a similar point in an 1816 letter when he wrote, “If a nation expects to be ignorant and free, in a state of civilization, it expects what never was and never will be.”

For over a year, the citizens of Franklin County have taken those foundational responsibilities seriously by building a statewide, nonpartisan coalition focused not on allegiances, but on transparency, accountability, and informed decision-making. Encouragingly, many officials and organizations have listened, and that kind of engagement is exactly how representative government is supposed to function.

Senator Hickey is paying attention.

Arkansas needs correctional investment, that much is widely acknowledged by most engaged in the debate. Overcrowding, employee recruitment and retention issues, aging facilities that have been repeatedly underfunded, and a lack of consistent prevention programs are real challenges. The question isn’t whether to invest, it’s whether we are making the best long-term investment decisions for taxpayers, effective solutions, and public safety as a whole.

After the September 9, 2025, Joint Performance Review hearing on Gravel & Grit’s citizen complaint regarding the proposed Franklin County prison site selection, many Arkansans expected clarity. Instead, the hearing largely reinforced concerns already raised by legislators, local officials, and residents.

It seems straightforward to us: either the due diligence supporting this site was less comprehensive than originally described, or key findings haven’t been fully explained publicly. Neither scenario builds confidence when hundreds of millions to billions in taxpayer dollars, and decades of correctional operations, are involved.

“I have never seen such a disaster as has been perpetrated on the people of Arkansas relative to this 3000-bed prison.” - Representative Jim Wooten

That isn’t our outside advocacy rhetoric — though we agree — it’s a sitting Arkansas legislator expressing concern about fiscal and operational risk.

Original Criteria vs. Current Reality

In November 2023, the Governor’s Senior Advisor Joe Profiri outlined why he was deviating from past practices and described what many considered responsible site-selection criteria:

“It’s got to be a sustainable workforce… proximity to a Level 3 trauma center… a reasonable commute… close to highways… land suitable for construction… and the community has to embrace it.”

Those priorities align with modern correctional planning: workforce stability, infrastructure access, emergency services proximity, and community readiness all affect long-term operational success.

Unfortunately by our assessment, subsequent evidence indicates most of the developed criteria evolved or were abandoned entirely to the point that any site within the River Valley would suffice while the functional role of consultants and timing of site assessment deviated from best practices.

Both Senior Advisor Profiri and Director Anne Laidlaw had previously indicated that the owner’s representative would be utilized in finalizing the best options for the site’s selection. Nevertheless, testimony at the Joint Performance Review hearing clarified that the consultant’s role focused on only assessment rather than site selection:

“The owner’s rep was not being hired to do our site selection for us, they were going to help with site assessment.”

- Joint Performance Review, September 9, 2025

Assessment after acquisition is not inherently improper, but when criteria shift and sequencing changes, taxpayers reasonably expect clear explanation and justification for such a deviation. This is especially true for the state’s second-largest capital investment that will impact Arkansans for decades to come.

Workforce Realities Matter

Corrections staffing challenges are well documented nationwide. Staffing an 800-900 employee facility for any industry requires thoughtful labor-shed analysis, not simple population counts and cursory drive-shed reviews, which we have covered extensively.

Director Shelby Johnson acknowledged limitations in the workforce analysis, stating it involved:

That candid acknowledgment is important. It also raises practical questions: What additional analysis of criteria ultimately supported the final site choice?

Understaffing within the Arkansas Department of Corrections has been cited as a primary justification for the general location decision and the inability to expand bed capacity at existing facilities, excluding an expansion of the Benny Magness Unit at Calico Rock that was confirmed at the hearing by Corrections officials as no “band-aid” but the most viable, immediate option for bedspace expansion.

Understaffing also affects safety for employees and inmates alike, increases operational costs through mandated overtime, harms employee retention, and negatively impacts inmate outcomes due to decreases in program opportunities aimed at rehabilitation and recidivism prevention. Those risks aren’t hypothetical — they’ve been documented across multiple states. That makes staffing one of the most pressing issues the state must address to empower the Department of Corrections ability to reverse our past trends and lessen the taxpayer burden long term.

With this in mind, we simply do not understand why a services deficient, inconvenient, longer off-interstate commute was chosen rather than a more employee-conscious site to improve recruitment and retention. That allows expanded capacity while offering improved services for successful rehabilitation and reentry. After all, not only is corrections recruiting notoriously difficult, it is far from the only industry that experiences employment satisfaction, performance, and retention issues as a result of commuting.

As professionals we know criteria can change and priorities evolve. That’s understandable. But this is especially concerning when just to build the facility, a conservative $500,000 per mile estimate emerged of which officials may have been unaware, yet it still ultimately falls on the Arkansas taxpayer. When internal documentation and public testimony don’t align, taxpayers reasonably expect explanation before long-term commitments are finalized. And there’s also the issue of water availability.

Our position remains the same, this location will not solve these issues but rather exacerbate them. The cost required to simply get the location construction ready when other far less costly options remain available severely limits Arkansas’s ability to invest in the critical programs necessary to improve employee retention, provide successful reentry programming, decrease recidivism rates, and best serve all of our citizens. At the end of the day, Arkansans just want to see our government act as a good steward of the taxpayer dollar, know that the numbers make sense, and have confidence the plan will actually work.

Transparency Isn’t Political Theater. It’s Risk Management.

Best practices in large projects should involve early consultation with local governments, utilities, workforce planners, and emergency services - that means talking to outside experts, not just the ones that are convenient to access. It reduces unexpected costs and operational complications. Arkansas has a long, documented history of contracting with such consultants and it seems most paramount we do so when tackling such a large, long-term capital investment.

Evidence available to us indicates that if and when it happened, it was far later than fiscally responsible and after the site selection was completed. Whether the full picture is publicly available or not, that perception still affects trust — and trust affects project success. Which brings us to why we need Arkansans engaged now more than ever; we need pragmatic, constructive dialogue with all citizens at all levels of government.

Why It Matters To Every Arkansan

The fiscal session of the Arkansas Legislature convenes April 8, when decisions regarding this and other expenditures take place. Additionally, primary and special elections run from February 17th to March 3rd. Historically, both draw lower turnout than general elections, particularly when issues feel technical. This is especially concerning in a state ranked lowest in turnout in the nation. History indicates low turnout most often benefits whoever currently holds power, making informed participation even more critical for robust decision making. Apathy is a real threat to a balanced, constructive representative government.

Decisions made will influence:

• taxpayer spending for decades

• statewide infrastructure priorities

• long-term state investment priorities

• long-term public safety outcomes

Once construction begins, flexibility narrows and a sunk cost fallacy sets in, as many other states have demonstrated within recent years. Arkansas would do well to learn from the lessons of those states.

A Reasonable Ask

Before Arkansas fully commits to this particular plan, several straightforward questions deserve clear answers:

• Was a comparative feasibility analysis between potential sites conducted before land acquisition that included an all-in cost assessment? Has one since been conducted to justify the abandonment of essential criteria?

• Given what we know regarding parole resources and early intervention, what resources have been dedicated to ensure we are not unintentionally exacerbating the population growth issue in our correctional investment choices?

• Was a cost benefit analysis conducted that justifies a mega prison versus smaller, regional facilities? If so, beyond the financial analysis, were similar studies conducted related to achieving both staffing and recidivism goals?

• Why did previous, repeatedly emphasized site-selection criteria and preferred process change?

• What are the total infrastructure costs required to make this site operational? What comparative analysis has been conducted for other sites presently available?

• Which citizens will be directly impacted monetarily by the numerous system upgrades necessary to begin construction?

• How will workforce recruitment and retention realistically be improved and sustained long-term throughout the system? Correctional facility types and locations impact employee retention and population recidivism, has that been considered in the overall plan?

If the Franklin County site ultimately proves to be the strongest option, transparent answers will reinforce that conclusion. If not, taxpayers deserve clarity before costs escalate.

You don’t have to agree with every elected official to appreciate the ones willing to ask difficult questions. Projects of this scale benefit from scrutiny, not silence, and good policy rarely comes from rubber stamps — it comes from a public and legislators willing to press for details, request documentation, and demand rigorous debate when answers aren’t clear. Elections don’t just determine outcomes; they determine who asks those questions along the way.

Arkansans have always valued straight talk, careful spending, and people willing to ask whether something truly makes sense. Staying informed and paying attention to how decisions are made — not just the final decisions themselves — is how that tradition continues.

Final Thought

Arkansans are pragmatic. We are willing to invest when those decisions make sense. We ask questions when details remain unclear.

That isn’t obstruction — it’s stewardship.

This isn’t about stopping correctional investment. It’s about making sure we build a system that works financially, operationally, and for the long term benefit of all Arkansans.

Stay informed. Review the public record. Ask the difficult questions. Talk to your representatives. Talk to the candidates in your districts. Vote in every election. Pay attention during the fiscal session that starts in April. Engage your representatives.

Because once the concrete is poured, Arkansas taxpayers, correctional employees, inmates, and their families will live with the consequences for decades.

"A popular Government, without popular information, or the means of acquiring it, is but a Prologue to a Farce or a Tragedy; or, perhaps both. Knowledge will forever govern ignorance: And a people who mean to be their own Governors, must arm themselves with the power which knowledge gives.”

- James Madison, 1822

Leah Acoach is an Arkansas human resources professional and the great-niece of US Senator Dale Bumpers and Betty Flanagan Bumpers. A resident of Rogers and a multi-generational native of South Franklin County, Leah is a board member of Gravel & Grit.

Arkansas has developed a quiet but consistent way of governing public institutions. First, leaders describe a system as failing. Next, they withdraw meaningful support. Then, when predictable problems appear, they declare the public model unworkable and invite private operators to step in.

This pattern is now playing out in two places that should concern every Arkansan: public education under the Arkansas LEARNS Act and the proposed prison project in Franklin County.

These are not unrelated issues. They follow the same logic.

Start With the Story

LEARNS is built on a repeated claim that public schools are underperforming while homeschool and private school students are succeeding. The claim sounds persuasive until you look at how those outcomes are measured.

Public school students are evaluated using state mandated standardized assessments. Those results are tied directly to school grades, state intervention, and even forced administrative changes. Homeschool students are not required to participate in the same testing regime. Many private schools use alternative assessments or none at all.¹

The student populations are also fundamentally different. Public schools must educate every child who walks through the door, including students with disabilities, behavioral challenges, language barriers, and unstable housing. Private schools and homeschool programs are allowed to limit enrollment or remove students entirely.²

Comparing those outcomes as if they are equivalent does not measure performance. It creates a narrative that, by design, erodes the trust of the communities served by their public schools.

Pull the Funding and Call the Result Proof

Once public schools are labeled as failing, LEARNS accelerates the withdrawal of resources. Education Freedom Accounts redirect state education dollars away from public school districts while leaving those districts responsible for fixed costs such as facilities, transportation, special education services, and staffing.³

When funding shrinks but obligations remain, strain is inevitable. Declining performance under those conditions is not evidence of institutional weakness. It is the foreseeable outcome of the policy itself.

That decline then becomes the justification for further intervention.

Mandated Private Control Is Not an Accident

LEARNS does not stop at criticism. When schools reach state defined failure thresholds, the law authorizes state takeover and permits the replacement of local governance with external administration. That includes placing schools under private charter operators or non local management entities.⁴

At that point, the school remains publicly funded but is no longer publicly governed. Decisions are made by private entities that may have no connection to the community and far less transparency than an elected school board.

This demonstrates displacement, not reinvestment.

The Prison Follows the Same Script

The proposed prison in Franklin County reflects the same approach, just earlier in the cycle. The chosen site presents obvious challenges such as limited infrastructure, workforce shortages, transportation constraints and significant local opposition.

None of this is surprising. All of it is foreseeable.

When a public facility is placed in conditions that predictably produce staffing difficulties and cost overruns, failure is no longer just a hypothetical.

Privatization Does Not Require an Announcement

To be clear, the Governor has not announced a plan to privatize the Franklin County prison, so there is no formal proposal on the table.

But privatization rarely begins with an announcement. It begins with policy choices that make public operation increasingly difficult, until private management is framed as the only practical solution.

Private prison companies, including those led by figures such as Damon Hininger of CoreCivic, do not need to be accused of influence to be relevant. Their business model depends on public systems being deemed inefficient. When inefficiency is predictable, opportunity follows.

This is an incentive structure often called a conspiracy. It is not a conspiracy.

Governance by Predictable Outcome

In education, Arkansas did not openly declare that failing schools would be handed to private operators. That outcome was embedded in the law. Funding is reduced, failure is defined, and private administration is authorized.

If the Franklin County prison struggles under foreseeable strain, the same logic will apply. Public operation will be labeled unsustainable, and outside management will be presented as necessity rather than choice.

The Bottom Line

Reform fixes public institutions, but Arkansas’ approach replaces them.

Failure does not have to be intentional to be engineered. When policymakers design systems where breakdown is predictable, the breakdown becomes policy. Ultimately, communities lose control long before they realize a decision was ever made.

Final Kicker

Governor Sanders hasn’t announced plans to privatize the Franklin County prison, but by selecting a site that all but guarantees operational strain, while advancing an education policy that starves public institutions until failure looks inevitable, the state is once again laying the groundwork for the same outcome: public breakdown followed by private takeover, with Arkansas taxpayers left holding the bill.

Statutory and Policy Footnotes

1. Arkansas Code Annotated § 6-15-504 and Arkansas Department of Education assessment and accountability rules

2. Arkansas Code Annotated § 6-18-206 regarding private school enrollment discretion

3. Arkansas Code Annotated § 6-18-2301 et seq., Education Freedom Accounts

4. Arkansas Code Annotated § 6-15-2915 and related state intervention provisions authorizing external administration and charter conversion

   ---

Dana is an HR exec, investigator, and culture geek writing at the intersection of people, power, and policy. Corporate and personal truth-seeker. Livin’ (and writing) on Tulsa time.

We highly suggest reading the below article first to understand the context here:

Back in June of 2025, we brought you one of our most well received articles, “Follow the Money.” It’s a refrain that has echoed through this project and our work since the beginning and, all too often, is a mantra that rings hollow due to research dead ends, government obfuscation, and those pesky FOIA restrictions putting key information ever so slightly out of reach.

But every so often, the government makes a move that makes all of the puzzle pieces come into a bit sharper focus. That’s what happened back in June and what’s happened again in the late waning hours of 2025, when focus was expected to be elsewhere. What they didn’t count on is that when they stole a community’s sense of peace and threatened their very way of life, they’re never not paying attention.

This is a lot. Strap in.

To Begin, a Brief Lesson on the Board of Corrections.

The Board of Corrections, like many other boards in Arkansas, is structured such that each of its members’ terms is staggered. This is designed to present any one governor from gaining a board full of appointees for any meaningful portion of their term in office. However, this system presents a flaw—one that our current administration has been keen on exploiting for some time.

You see, on a 7-vote board, control is needed of only 4 members to reach a favorable majority. Since taking office, Gov. Sanders has garnered, one way or another, 7 appointments to Board of Corrections voting positions. That’s 5 more than the calendar of staggered succession dictates. Through a slew of voluntary resignations, firings, and misconduct allegations, the administration now has firm control of a Board of Corrections she’s been squabbling over both in the press and in the courtroom for years.

So what?

The Puzzle Pieces.

Let’s assume for a moment that in the upcoming fiscal session the legislature remembers everything we detailed for them in the Joint Performance Review hearing and continues to refuse to fund this ill-fated project. Remember, the legislative makeup will be the same as when lawmakers rejected such funding five times in Spring of 2025 and, given the stalemate on progressing the design contract, the facts haven’t changed since then either.

While real leadership would have dictated a change in the project months ago—or, perhaps, never undertaken it in such a dictatorial manner to begin with—the “leadership” we’re stuck with thinks “no” really means “do it anyway.” And that means, once again, circumventing the will of the people as expressed through their representatives and finding a way to get this project done. Optics, feasibility, and sanity be damned.

So, you ask, how might one circumvent the legislature to find hundreds of millions of dollars to build one of the largest carceral facilities in the country?

Enter, the for-profit prison system.

We mentioned our “Follow the Money” article earlier. In it, we detailed how CoreCivic—one of the largest private prison companies on the planet—was the Governor’s PAC’s biggest donor:

We have long heard rumors about Bryan Sanders’ consulting connections to the private prison industry so, naturally, this piqued our curiosity and led us to dig further. Specifically, we started looking at campaign finance reports, where we found that CoreCivic is the single largest donor to the Governor’s Team SHS PAC.

Notably, the $10,000 payment comes immediately after the Board of Corrections fired Joe Profiri and the $5,000 payment follows the State’s first introduction to California contractor, Vanir Construction Management (this introduction is rife with its own strange circumstances and potential for malfeasance, but we’ve covered that previously).

What we couldn’t have known at that time was that just two days later, on June 12, 2025, CoreCivic’s CEO, Damon Hininger (of the now infamous “duck hunting” photo) would give two maximum donation checks directly to Gov. Sanders reelection campaign. As an aside, we’re sure she’s returning the funds that were tagged for a primary that was never going to, and never did, materialize. Absolutely certain.

Or that he would do so listing “Corrections Corporation of America” as his employer, a name that CoreCivic rebranded itself away from, under Hininger’s leadership, nearly a decade ago. Intentionally misleading? Who knows.

So, why is one of the world’s largest private prison companies and its CEO aggressively donating to the Governor of a state which houses NO private prisons?

That brings us back to the Board of Corrections. If, as we earlier intimated, the legislative slap in the face workaround plan is in the works (and of course it is), the administration is going to need a rubber stamp friendly Board of Corrections to authorize setting it in motion.

Enter, Jamie Barker (and Nathan Lee, and Boyce Hamlet, and Grant Hodges—though he’s old news).

You see, the battle to wrest control of the Board of Corrections has been raging for quite some time—for so long, in fact, one must confront the potential of this prospect being planned from the first utterance of “overcrowded.” With such battle squarely lost in the courts, the next best thing is packing the board. And, unlike the library board that had to be completely disbanded so she could rebuild it from scratch, here it only needed the finishing touches.

The final quarter of 2025 saw board member Brandon Tollet resign, voting member and Post Prison Transfer Board Chair Lona Mccastlain fired, and board chair Benny Magness’ final term expire. Rolling the timeline conveniently from court loss to yes man appointment, in triplicate.

While none of these choices are what we would consider sound, the appointment of Jamie Barker poses particular legal, ethical, and moral challenges that make him a not so surprising pick for this administration. As I sat to write this section, Tracking Arkansas published an excellent piece on this exact topic, so I’m going to let them explain (though do go read “The Capture” in its entirety for a fuller scope):

This week, Sanders appointed her former deputy chief of staff, Jamie Barker, to the Arkansas Board of Corrections.

On its face, this is a stunning choice. Barker has no professional experience in corrections, criminal justice, or rehabilitation. His qualification is not expertise, but proximity. He is the son of Republican State Rep. Sonia Barker, and until recently, he was a key staffer in the governor’s inner circle.

But the real conflict — the one that makes this appointment functionally unworkable and ethically poisonous — is what he did immediately after leaving the governor’s office: he became a partner at the Gilmore Davis Strategy Group, the lobbying firm at the heart of the “closed loop” of contracts and influence we have documented for months.

That’s right, the Governor’s deputy chief of staff turned lobbyist named partner at one of the most powerful lobbying groups in the state, whose client list includes the proverbial who’s who of carceral system profiteers—Jaime Barker—will soon be seeking Senate confirmation to sit on the Board of Corrections.

This is what brings the “closed loop” referenced by Tracking Arkansas full circle. Endless consulting (and consulting to consult) spending, lobbyists, staffers, board members—all a carefully controlled and well-funded system that simultaneously drain the state’s already meager coffers and advance projects that inevitably do more harm than good. All problems about which Sen. King has been sounding the alarm for some time now.

Those Are the Puzzle Pieces. Where’s the Moment of Clarity?

We’ve long theorized that a site selection this objectively bad could only be explained one way: it’s not intended to succeed under state control. An intentionally poor site selection that forces the state Department of Corrections to admit it can’t manage the facility swings the door wide open to offer a lucrative private prison contract to any one of a number of companies in such business—say, CoreCivic, perhaps.

So, what happens when the legislature closes the door on public funding? The plan is simply modified and accelerated. With control of the Board of Correction effectively wrested, the legislative side-step is, in essence, over before it began. Contracts can be approved quietly and without oversight. Plans can be transferred fully to the private sector, out of the reach of FOIA. And the legislature, the voice of people, and the people of Franklin County, can again be silenced.

Will anything stop this administration from being hell bent on incarcerating more citizens per capita than any other country in the civilized world? Promises made, promises kept.

What’s to Be Done?

Procedurally, be on the lookout for a meeting of the Senate Rules Committee to issue a recommendation on these appointments followed by a business meeting of the full Senate for actual confirmation votes. This isn’t final, it’s an appointment that requires Senate confirmation. So, we’re once again urging you to call your Senator and ask them to object to the confirmation of, especially, Jaime Barker—come to your own conclusion on the other two, this article is long enough as it is.

There are recusable conflicts of interest, glaring ethical issues, and Constitutional objections that any Senator doing their job of representing the people should be able to grasp here. And, if they don’t, you have yet another reason to get out and vote on March 3rd. In any case, we’re preparing for a Round 2 of the prison fight in 2026. While it may seem insurmountable, it did at the beginning of Round 1 too. Yet here they are, 14 months in with only a $1m culvert to show for it.

With this latest move the stage seems to be set for the future of our carceral system to move from the taxpayers to Wall Street—because don’t for a second think this will stop with Franklin County. This incessant accumulation of power in the executive at the exclusion of the legislature is not only damaging to the State’s current affairs but sets a dangerous precedent for future governance.

Blink and you’ll miss it.

Keep Reading Gravel & Grit:

On paper, they are often sold as a win. Jobs. Investment. Modern infrastructure. A seat at the table of the digital economy.

But when you listen to the communities that host them, the story becomes more complicated.

What Data Centers Promise

Local officials are typically told data centers will bring economic development with minimal disruption. The pitch often includes:

• Significant capital investment

• Increased tax base

• Limited environmental footprint compared to manufacturing

• A small number of high-paying technical jobs

For communities that have struggled to attract large employers, those promises can be enticing.

What Communities Experience

Across the country, residents are raising concerns once the facilities are built or announced.

Few permanent jobs

After construction ends, many data centers employ only a handful of full-time workers. Communities expecting meaningful job growth are often disappointed.

Heavy infrastructure demands

Data centers require massive electrical capacity and, in many cases, large amounts of water for cooling. Residents report concerns about:

• Strain on local power grids

• Rising utility costs

• Competition with agricultural or residential water needs

Noise and quality-of-life issues

While marketed as quiet neighbors, residents near some facilities report constant low-level noise from cooling systems and backup generators, especially in rural areas where ambient noise is otherwise low.

Land use and long-term risk

Data centers are highly specialized. Communities worry about what happens if a facility becomes obsolete or a company leaves. Unlike factories or offices, these sites are not easily repurposed.

A Common Theme: Lack of Transparency

Perhaps the most consistent complaint is how these projects are approved.

In many places, including Arkansas, residents say decisions were made quickly, with limited public input, sometimes under non-disclosure agreements. By the time the public learns details about water use, tax abatements, or infrastructure costs, the deal is already done.

That lack of transparency breeds mistrust, even among people who are not opposed to growth or technology.

The Bigger Question

Data centers are not inherently good or bad. They are a critical part of modern life. But communities are increasingly asking reasonable questions:

Who benefits most from these projects?

Who pays the long-term costs?

And why are residents so often the last to be informed?

As more data centers appear on the map, those questions are only getting louder.

Here in Arkansas

According to Rick Shumate, we seem to have a FOMO for data centers in Arkansas. Legislators in Arkansas, some in districts where a data center is being planned, penned legislation giving tax breaks to the very same industry. Coincidence? Give us your thoughts in the chat and let’s discuss.

Sources & References

• NPR — Virginia communities push back against data center expansion

  https://www.npr.org/2025/07/17/nx-s1-5469933/virginia-data-centers-residents-saying-no

• The Graphic, Clarksville, AR— $8 million land sale and CCU plans push data center proposal forward

  https://www.thegraphic.org/2025/11/18/8-million-land-sale-ccu-plans-push-data-center-forward-planning-commission-to-review-site-plan-thursday/

• Fox Business — How data centers are rapidly transforming small-town America

  https://www.foxbusiness.com/technology/data-centers-rapidly-transforming-small-town-america

• Facebook (Video) — Community testimony and public reaction related to proposed data center development

  https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1Er7YYKto2/

• YouTube (Video) — Public meeting footage and resident commentary on data center siting

• KARK (NBC Arkansas) — Residents protest proposed data and solar center near Sheridan

  https://www.kark.com/news/local-news/people-protest-at-the-grant-county-courthouse-against-proposed-data-and-solar-center-near-sheridan/

• Arkansas Advocate — Fear of missing out on the data center boom leads Arkansas officials to ignore hard questions

  https://arkansasadvocate.com/2025/12/12/fear-of-missing-out-on-data-center-boom-leads-arkansas-officials-to-ignore-hard-questions/

• Data Center Dynamics — Arkansas expands tax abatements for data centers

  https://www.datacenterdynamics.com/en/news/arkansas-expands-data-center-tax-abatements/

A coordinated PAC network in Arkansas is funneling corporate money through the Governor’s political structure and into select legislative races, with Bobby Ballinger Jr. as a primary beneficiary.

At the top are national corporations like CoreCivic, the private-prison corporation, which funds Gov. Sarah Huckabee Sanders’ Team SHS PAC. Tobacco companies like Philip Morris and Altria fund leadership PACs including Arkansas Wins, Base Point, and Jobs & Growth. These PACs fund each other and targeted candidates.

Team SHS PAC receives corporate money, distributes it to aligned legislative PACs, and directly supports candidates like Ballinger.

According to a report done by Janie Ginocchio with Arkansas Legislative Bill Tracker, there are legislator-run PACs controlled by leadership: Bart Hester’s Arkansas Wins, Ben Gilmore’s Base Point, and AG Tim Griffin’s Jobs & Growth PAC. They receive corporate funds, reinforce the Governor’s agenda, and push money across the network.

While not technically “dark money,” the system behaves like it. Corporate dollars move through multiple PACs, masking the original donors and intentions. Some PACs in this network have already been flagged for “cash-looping” or suspicious transfers.

Beginning in January 2024, reporters reviewing finance filings noticed irregular donation patterns involving repeated transfers between leadership PACs and candidate committees, with Base Point PAC and Jobs & Growth (JAG) PAC appearing most often in these loops. By March, an Arkansas Advocate investigation detailed rapid 24–48-hour money cycling, shared political advisors, and blurred lines between Base Point PAC and the Gilmore Strategy Group. Jobs & Growth PAC was also flagged for heavy PAC-to-PAC transfers and tobacco-linked funding sources.

In June 2024, KATV reported potential straw-donor activity involving PACs connected to Sen. Ben Gilmore and Rep. David Ray, specifically naming Base Point PAC, Gilmore Strategy Group PAC, and Jobs & Growth PAC. By fall, nonpartisan watchdog groups formally identified these three PACs as examples of an emerging “PAC-laundering” structure, using the term “cash-looping” to describe their serial transfers.

By late 2024, election-cycle analyses confirmed that Base Point PAC, Jobs & Growth PAC, and Gilmore Strategy Group PAC had functioned as the central clearinghouses for funneling corporate money — including tobacco and private-prison contributions — into targeted Arkansas primary races.

Ballinger’s race becomes one of the best examples of how the loop operates.

A Pattern Developed

When you step back from the individual transfers and look at the full timeline, a pattern becomes impossible to ignore. Corporate money enters at the top, leadership PACs move it around just enough to cloud the trail, and legislator-run PACs deliver it to the candidates the Governor’s political machine wants in office. The effect isn’t just financial. It shapes who gets to compete, who gets drowned out, and whose interests rise to the top once the legislature gavels in. Ballinger’s race is simply the clearest example of how the conveyor belt works, but it is not the only one.

This isn’t how a healthy democracy operates. Arkansans deserve to know where political money comes from, whose priorities it represents, and why it’s being funneled into specific races. We deserve representatives who answer to their constituents, not to a network of corporate donors and political gatekeepers. Transparency isn’t a radical ask… it should be the bare minimum. And the more citizens understand what’s happening beneath the surface, the harder it becomes for these systems to keep operating in the dark.

Not all PACs are bad. Some exist to give communities a voice, support local candidates, and help everyday people compete against powerful interests. The best PACs are born out of neighborhoods, churches, civic groups, and volunteer networks, where people who see a need in their communities pool their resources to elevate leaders who will actually answer to them. When PACs are created and run for local support, they strengthen the democratic process. They help candidates who don’t have corporate backing. They keep accountability close to home. In other words, they work in favor of the citizens they represent, not against them.

The problem isn’t the tool, it’s how that tool is being used. What we’re seeing now in Arkansas is a system built to concentrate power. The flow of money through coordinated, leadership-controlled PACs is designed to drown out local voices. And the more complex and circular the funding becomes, the further everyday Arkansans are pushed from the decisions that affect their communities.

That’s why transparency matters. When voters can clearly see who is funding whom —and why — they can make informed choices about the kind of leadership they want. Arkansas desperately needs more civic engagement. It needs a political system that puts citizens first, values honesty, and refuses to let corporate interests speak louder than the people who actually live here.

Donate to Gravel & Grit

Arkansas Legislative Bill Tracker. (2025). PAC donations, transfers, and financial relationships: Legislative network dataset. https://www.arkbilltracker.com

Brantley, M. (2024). Gilmore’s PAC connections draw scrutiny. Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. https://www.arkansasonline.com

KATV Staff. (2024). Report raises concerns over PAC transfers tied to Arkansas lawmakers. KATV News. https://www.katv.com

Lyon, J. (2024). Money loops among Arkansas PACs raise transparency concerns. Arkansas Advocate. https://arkansasadvocate.com

OpenSecrets. (2024). PAC-to-PAC transfers and cash-looping patterns: State-level analysis. https://www.opensecrets.org

But first, I want to take a moment to acknowledge a growing trend that concerns me: the politicization of our history and our holidays. After a year of helping document factual materials with Gravel & Grit, I hope it’s clear that honesty in our storytelling matters deeply to me. We are the stewards of our shared history, and we have a responsibility to get it right. Now is not the time to lower our guard. Protecting the truth is essential.

I recently attended a political event featuring a speaker currently holding a state office. He told the story of the “Indian Prophecy”; a legend told about George Washington’s miraculous survival at the Battle of the Monongahela. He told it as historical FACT.

This historical tale shares similarities with other tall tales about Washington, such as his legendary encounter with the cherry tree. It also fits in with a nineteenth century tradition of quasi-factual Indigenous “prophecies” and “curses” on a range of topics, playing on the “noble savage” trope.

Divine Providence, however, is beyond the realm of the fact-check. Washington indeed escaped serious harm in the deadly Battle of the Monongahela, and this feat, combined with his later prominence, was seen as remarkable, if not miraculous, by Washington’s contemporaries, and perhaps even by Washington himself. The first president skirting death produced the context for the “Indian Prophecy,” which developed over several decades, building on verifiable facts along familiar patterns of myth-making.

Even more disturbing, is the re-sharing of the late Rush Limbaugh’s telling of the Thanksgiving story. While he uses real names and dates, he reframes them into a modern ideological narrative that historians overwhelmingly reject.

Rush’s “true story” re-frames Thanksgiving as a narrative about the failure of communal living, the success of private property and free enterprise, and views the traditional story, Pilgrims saved by Native Americans and surviving through cooperation, as a “sanitized,” politically-correct myth.

Rush Limbaugh’s Thanksgiving story is not historically accurate. The first event later called “Thanksgiving” took place in 1621 in Plymouth. After a devastating first winter in which nearly half the English settlers died, the Wampanoag people helped the surviving colonists learn local agriculture, including planting corn and using fish as fertilizer. The peace treaty between the Wampanoag, led by Ousamequin (Massasoit), and the English set the stage for shared diplomacy.

In the fall of 1621, after the colonists’ first successful harvest, Governor William Bradford declared a celebration. About 50 English settlers attended, and roughly 90 Wampanoag men arrived, likely because they heard gunfire from the colonists’ celebration and came prepared to assist or investigate. The gathering lasted three days and included feasting, athletic contests, and diplomatic interaction. The food likely included venison brought by the Wampanoag, fowl, corn, and native foods, not the turkey-and-pie menu common today.

Rush Limbaugh’s telling reframes this history into a modern ideological tale about the failure of “socialism” and the triumph of private ownership. But this interpretation does not match the timeline or the facts. The 1621 harvest celebration happened two years before Plymouth Colony shifted to household planting in 1623, and even then, land was still held communally. The early communal labor system was not an ideological experiment at all. It was a contractual requirement imposed by the colony’s English investors. None of William Bradford’s writings describe laziness, moral failure, or a political awakening. In contrast, the actual 1621 gathering was a diplomatic harvest feast rooted in survival, cooperation, and the specific political relationship between the Wampanoag and the English, not an economic parable about free enterprise or modern political philosophy.

This event was not called “Thanksgiving” at the time, and it was not a religious holiday. It was a harvest celebration shaped by fragile mutual need during a brief period of cooperation between two groups whose futures would eventually collide, with devastating consequences for Indigenous people.

And that brings me back to what Thanksgiving actually is… not the myth-making of politicians or talk-radio storytellers, but the holiday Abraham Lincoln created in the middle of the Civil War. In 1863, when the country was breaking apart and families were grieving on every side, Lincoln called for a national day of thanks as an act of unity, humility, and shared humanity. He wanted a divided nation to pause, acknowledge its suffering, and still find room for gratitude and hope.

So on this Thanksgiving Day in 2025, I’m holding onto that intention. Thanksgiving was never meant to be a tool for politics. It was meant to bring us back to one another, to truth, to community, and to the better angels Lincoln hoped we could be.

Happy Thanksgiving.

References

Bradford, W. (1952). Of Plymouth Plantation, 1620–1647 (S. E. Morison, Ed.). Knopf. (Original work written 1630–1651)

Lincoln, A. (1863, October 3). Proclamation of Thanksgiving. The Abraham Lincoln Papers at the Library of Congress.

McKenzie, R. T. (2015, November 9). How the Pilgrims repented of socialism and gave thanks: Rush Limbaugh’s revisionist history of the first Thanksgiving. Faith and American History. https://faithandamericanhistory.wordpress.com/2015/11/09/how-the-pilgrims-repented-of-socialism-and-gave-thanks-rush-limbaughs-revisionist-history-of-the-first-thanksgiving

Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association. (n.d.). The Indian Prophecy. George Washington Presidential Library. https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/the-indian-prophecy

National Archives. (2004). The origins of Thanksgiving. https://www.archives.gov/publications/prologue/2004/winter/thanksgiving

Philbrick, N. (2007). Mayflower: A story of courage, community, and war. Penguin Books.

Salon Staff. (2015, November 26). Rush Limbaugh’s “True Story of Thanksgiving” is a lie-filled load of stuffing that turns villains into victims. Salon. https://www.salon.com/2015/11/26/rush_limbaughs_true_story_of_thanksgiving_is_a_lie_filled_load_of_stuffing_that_turns_villains_into_victims/

Silverman, D. J. (2019). This land is their land: The Wampanoag Indians, Plymouth Colony, and the troubled history of Thanksgiving. Bloomsbury.

Smithsonian Magazine Staff. (2017, November 21). The myths of the Thanksgiving story and the lasting damage they imbue. Smithsonian Magazine. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/thanksgiving-myth-and-what-we-should-be-teaching-kids-180973655

This is a conversation space exclusively for subscribers—kind of like a group chat or live hangout. We will post questions and updates that come our way, and you can jump into the discussion or ask questions!

Join chat

How to get started

1. Get the Substack app by clicking this link or the button below. New chat threads won’t be sent sent via email, so turn on push notifications so you don’t miss conversation as it happens. You can also access chat on the web.

Get app

2. Open the app and tap the Chat icon. It looks like two bubbles in the bottom bar, and you’ll see a row for my chat inside.

3. That’s it! Jump into the Gravel & Grit thread to say hi, and if you have any issues, check out Substack’s FAQ.

I would never fault one for assuming Peter Pender, Arkansas, is an unlikely place to birth a lover of effective governance, language, and deep-dive investigative research. But looks can be deceiving and my “hometown’s” name is a prescient example. I put “hometown” in quotation marks because where I’m from is in no way a town but rather a place named after the pen name of English doctor and satirist John Wolcot, Peter Pindar, however misspelled. He was famous for his open willingness to oppose King George III with his biting, satirical prose. Legend has it his poems were regularly read at the Peter Pender General Store that once stood at the intersection of Highway 60 and Highway 41.

As such, it is fitting I find myself opposing a like-minded politician demonstrating kindred behavior, forcing her edict on a community with complete disregard for the people impacted and subsequent burden on its residents. I was fortunate to be a generational native of Franklin County that provided me ample opportunity to explore a relatively unspoiled rural landscape steeped in history, the ability to gaze upon unpolluted night skies fueling childhood imagination, parents who loved great literature, a family committed to service to others, and a community who never shied away from fighting the good fight. It instilled in me a love of learning while personifying democratic governance through the encouragement of healthy debate in our representative republic.

These foundational principles drive my opposition to the proposed Franklin County prison site selection. While I no longer have any tangible connection to the area it is my ancestral land, the limitations of I am acutely aware, and my relevant professional experience only solidifies my opposition to this site’s selection. Though I do not own land in Franklin County, I am a lifelong Arkansas resident and taxpayer who knows our government’s decision making in this endeavor is nonsensical at best. Gubernatorial insistence that it is “unduly burdensome” to provide the very senate district impacted with representation during the legislative body’s fiscal session is transparently vindictive at worst. That is not reflective of the democratic governance and healthy debate necessary for sound, competent decision making. It definitely does not comport with the spirit of governance my Senator’s niece and farmer mother and law enforcement professional father reared me to celebrate.

Put simply, the Franklin County prison debacle is a glaring example of dysfunctional government in action where too many players are jockeying for position on a political chess board. Each player contemplates the next move of their perceived opponent, thereby willing to sacrifice their political pawns rather than engage in constructive, healthy debate for the betterment of all its people. Institutional authority in our representative republic must be open to dialogue, critical thought, and rigorous debate to ensure responsible decision making. Unfortunately, Arkansas finds itself in a position where dogmatic players continue to refuse earnest engagement with the impacted constituents, constitutionally mandated governing body, elected representatives, and stakeholder experts alike.

Whether this is miscommunication or misinformation is driven by insufficient governing experience, nonexistent constructive dialogue, selective transparency, or the pursuit of purse string power plays, we do not know. Most likely it is a combination of all of those factors. What we do know is Arkansas deserves better - so we must demand better. For reference, here are a few examples of this behavior demonstrated throughout the process.

• In a December of 2022 interview, Senator Bart Hester estimated the cost of a 3000 bed prison to be approximately $750 million dollars. In April of 2023, Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders announced plans for a 3000 bed prison anticipated to cost $470 million dollars. In July of 2023, the state met with an architectural firm and commissioned a program of study based on present and future needs with the subsequent August 2023 meeting resulting in a rough estimate of $1.2 billion dollars - the firm was told to go back to the drawing board. When faced with pointed questions from fiscally conservative voters and the need for their senator’s votes in March of 2025, a new $825 million estimate emerged. You’ll have to forgive our skepticism, but the ever-evolving budget demonstrates part of why we lack faith in their version of appropriate due diligence, strategic planning, information sharing, and any effort toward transparency. We don’t fault the legislature for balking.

• Passionately and pointedly, Governor Sander’s Senior Advisor Joe Profiri testified to the Arkansas Legislative Council in November of 2023 that “the vendor who proposes to build the facility will have to inform” the state of the best location and critical community buy-in for his stated criteria of a long-term sustainable workforce, within a decent distance to highways for a competitive employee commute, and in proximity to a level 3 trauma center. Division of Building Authority Director Anne Laidlaw further reiterated the criteria, process, and the role of the owner’s representative in identifying the most appropriate location days before the state closed on the Franklin County property in October of 2024. We learned from Director Laidlaw’s Joint Performance Review testimony in September of 2025, the state did not use the contracted owner’s representative for site selection but only “assessment,” ignoring comparative feasibility and constructability cost implications of the location decision, entirely abandoning the quality of work life balance for future employees, and obviously dismissing any intention of obtaining critical community buy-in.

• In our most objective and generous analysis, this could be a communication breakdown stemming from intergovernmental conflict of which no citizen nor community should be collateral damage. No government has a shortage of such conflict but the most basic expectation of the citizenry is those charged with our representation deal with it constructively. We find Arkansas’s most obvious example in the lack of clarification and/or coordination between the roles and authority of Mr. Profiri and Secretary Lindsey Wallace, compounded by the ongoing conflict between the Sanders Administration and the Board of Corrections. It is unnecessary to rehash the conflict between Mr. Profiri and the Board of Corrections as it has been well documented. But one could interpret board chairman Benny Magness’s revealing testimony at the Joint Performance Review hearing in September as a symptom of this disfunction. If reflective of this project’s planning and progress to date, the lack of information sharing within the Office of the Governor and the lack of coordination with the Department of Corrections governing body does not breed confidence that the right questions were asked of the right people during the project’s planning and alleged due diligence. Arkansas deserves more.

We cannot discern whether the Board of Corrections, the body constitutionally mandated to oversee our corrections system, had any significant say in this particular iteration of carceral investment.

Nevertheless, what isn’t in question is the Arkansas carceral system needs more bedspace supportive of a multitude of services, an increased investment in existing infrastructure, a strategic recruitment and retention plan for all facilities, and an overhaul of the approach that has led to unacceptable levels of recidivism. That will require a strategic investment, constructive dialogue with all stakeholders, and consultation with experts of the affected. To accomplish this, the citizens of Arkansas need everyone involved to set egos aside, do the work, and make the right decisions for our future.

Continuing this dysfunctional approach will not deliver the necessary outcomes required to reverse our incarceration trends and nothing about the Franklin County site indicates those critical priorities can be addressed when exorbitant infrastructure development costs are driving design and function decisions rather than purpose and need. Even if the Board of Corrections wanted to adopt a more diverse investment plan, does the mechanism to purchase a land asset exist for this governing body? From our perspective, all appearances indicate no. Whether that is due to present statutory structure, legislative history of corrections funding, or a breakdown communication between the Governor’s Office and the Board of Corrections really doesn’t matter to us. What does matter is this behavior has to change because service to the Arkansas taxpayer deserves and, dare we say, demands it.

I think we all want to return to the approach of governance of which I was reared; where all perspectives are considered, appropriately weighed, and the right decisions are made for the citizens of Arkansas. We believe we can do this so long as each stakeholder listens for understanding not simply responding. Unfortunately if the speculation fueled by newly announced primary opponents to Republicans presently in office who demanded more answers for this corrections investment are any indication, that isn’t the path our leaders are choosing to take. As John Wolcot once opined…

It is important to remind one another that the Arkansas taxpayer is paying their salary, after all, and it might be time to remind them they work for us.

Leah Acoach is an Arkansas human resources professional and the great-niece of US Senator Dale Bumpers and Betty Flanagan Bumpers. A resident of Rogers and a multi-generational native of south Franklin County, Leah is a board member of Gravel & Grit.

That single announcement has had a profound impact on the citizens who will bear the consequences of the unilateral actions of the executive branch. What started as a real Halloween nightmare, turned into a significant and impressive level of civic engagement. Franklin County citizens organized, researched, and stood up. We’ve become the example of what happens when rural Arkansas refuses to be quiet.

Not only have we influenced legislators through education on the facts surrounding the prison project, we have demonstrated that integrity in reporting still carries weight with those concerned about about the direction and divisiveness we see across social media platforms and main stream media outlets. We hope to continue a productive dialogue as we enter the election cycle for 2026… One that educates and informs instead of inciting outrage and mistrust.

Stacking the Deck

In the most recent news, not surprisingly, Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders plans to appeal a judge’s decision that simply follows the Arkansas Constitution and lets the people of District 26 have a voice again.

Judge Patricia James ruled that leaving an entire Senate district without representation—especially during the upcoming fiscal session, when critical budget decisions directly affecting District 26 will be made—wasn’t just bad politics; it was unconstitutional. And she’s right. The people of Franklin County, Logan County, and every other community in the District deserve to have someone in that seat now. The Governor’s delay wasn’t about logistics or money… it was about power. She’s watched Franklin County push back, ask questions, and refuse to play along. And she doesn’t like it. This isn’t about representing the people; it’s about reminding them that she is ruler of the land, untouchable and supreme.

Her excuse for setting the election so late? She said it was to save taxpayers money and ensure a free and fair election. How could she believe the elections could be anything BUT free and fair, given that Arkansas, according to the Governor herself, ranks #1 in election integrity?

That’s a tough one to swallow coming from the same administration willing to spend millions on consultants, legal fees, and a capital project at least three times the cost to Arkansas taxpayers as it should be. A fact the Executive Branch has even to acknowledge. But when it comes to giving people a voice in their own government, suddenly the budget matters.

The loss of Senator Gary Stubblefield is profoundly felt across District 26. His voice was well respected among state leadership and the void left behind is being exploited by a Governor he once admired and respected. She is taking advantage of the vacancy, knowing Senator Stubblefield would have voted against the prison at the current site selection. Her abuse of power in going against those who oppose her is more evident than ever with the recent arrest of Colonel Conrad Reynolds for a charge of “electioneering”. What she is really angry about, is that Colonel Reynolds goes against her support for machine voting and that his stance is popular among many in Arkansas. Her willingness to weaponize her position in office should concern every Arkansan.

Regnat Populous

Meanwhile, Franklin County and other affected communities still refuse to be quiet. Civic engagement here has transformed into a movement. In addition to the FCRVC and Gravel & Grit, both which formed early on in the fight against the prison, The Franklin County Rough Riders and Arkansas Alcatraz have emerged as popular ways for Arkansans to keep up with new happenings on the prison front, as well as local and state election information. Folks are showing up to meetings, sharing information from their own research into public records, and making their position known. As we’ve stated many times, the prison is unpopular in its current iteration, all across the state.

Even the Franklin County Sheriff, Johnny Crocker, is making it known that his office is not supportive of the Governor’s actions and location choice, through a series of videos posted on his social media accounts.

Local news platform, Resident News Network, is hosting a candidates forum on November 18, and the turnout is already shaping up to be the biggest in recent history. Gravel & Grit is proud to be a sponsor of the event and to take a seat on the panel. We believe this community deserves real representation, honest answers, and candidates who aren’t afraid to face the people they hope to serve.

What’s notable about this year’s lineup isn’t just who’s coming… it’s who’s not. The candidates who’ve declined to answer the invitation have already sent a message about how little they respect the citizens of District 26 and the neighboring House and Senate districts that will be represented. Among those who remain non-committal are sitting Senator Kim Hammer, Mark Berry and Bobby Ballinger for Arkansas.

Refusing to engage with voters or debate other candidates isn’t a good look—it’s disrespect. Voters will remember it. But this play comes straight from the Governor’s own book. Sarah Huckabee Sanders is known for offering lip service while calling it dialogue then dodging questions with canned responses instead of answering them. Folks in Franklin County know that well. Many of them have reached out time and again, only to be ignored. She’s betting the rest of the state won’t notice.

Pushing On

Gravel & Grit will keep fighting the prison. We aren’t going anywhere. We’ll keep asking hard questions. And we’ll keep standing beside the people of Franklin County, because they’ve proven something powerful: when regular folks pay attention, politicians lose the luxury of acting like no one’s watching.

In fact, we are preparing a rebuttal to the arguments made in the Sept. 9th hearing before the Joint Performance Review Committee, which resulted in more support for our efforts, but also left challenges to the information we shared that we intend to address.

As always, we appreciate your support. We hope to continue to keep you informed as changes happen. If you appreciate our work and want to help us keep going—please consider donating or sharing Gravel & Grit information and platforms. Every bit helps us stay independent, keep the facts straight, and keep showing up where it counts.

Donate Here

When I first volunteered to help the community organize against the prison, I planned on having to wear many different hats—that’s part of the nature of grassroots work. What I did not anticipate is that, sitting here almost a year later, the project would be stalled out in the legislature while the district is staring down the barrel of a threatened ICE deportation facility as the Governor slow rolls a special election to fill its vacant Senate seat.

To say there’s a lot going on is a massive understatement, but let’s try to break it all down and get everyone up to speed. You’ll have to forgive us for glossing over the Joint Performance Review hearing from September 9th—we’ll get to it, eventually. On to more pressing matters.

The Frozen Prison Project

The State’s progress on the prison has been stuck in limbo for the last four months—and with their staunch refusal to answer questions (or even show up to do so) without first securing their desired design contract, it appears that stalemate isn’t going to break anytime soon. This is a $57m game of chicken the Governor is playing with the legislature—her tactic being to consistently post boogeyman videos on X, we assume with the weird hope of tugging enough heart strings that the legislature cedes its death grip on the State’s purse strings and demands for a fiscally responsible plan.

However, expensive children’s game aside, this begs a bigger question of the Governor’s heretofore unchallenged ability to whip votes behind whatever her project du jour happens to be. You see, the subcommittee required to approve the design contract is the Legislative Council-Review subcommittee, consisting of only 20 members. So, if the stall is caused by what we presume it to be, a persistent lack of affirmative votes due a lack of transparency surrounding a faulty underlying plan, this means that she’s been unable to convince even 11 lawmakers that it’s reasonable to spend $57m to buy more answers about the site’s feasibility. And if she can’t do that, how’s she going to convince the 31 votes needed to pass the full Legislative Council?

What we do know is that the longer it takes to approve, the more the Governor continues to prove one of our points: Forcing a build on this site will invite so many delays that it will not solve any of the overcrowding problems anytime soon. Moreover, if it’s a 4+ month delay just to get an architect, there’s a real danger that this new prison is full to the brim before the ground is even broken.

The ICE Detention Center Threat

We hear consistent phrasing from the Governor that we need to give people a “hand up not a hand out” (sic) and her promises to ensure that “the meddling hand of big government creeping down from Washington DC will be stopped cold at the Mississippi River.” Tough talk for a state that “generates” 36.8% of its total revenue from daddy fed.

Despite all of that talk, it appears that we were right in our Joint Performance Review presentation (clip below) in surmising that her plan to right this self-capsized ship is to turn to federal welfare for a bailout.

That bailout appears to be coming in the form of a prospective ICE detention facility at the same site intended for the Franklin County prison. Now, given the manner in which this information was discovered (a Franklin County Sheriff’s Deputy happening upon ICE agents, and Joe Profiri, at the site), we’re light on details of how the Governor and Joe intend to finagle this ill-advised additional usurpation of local control into funding for their pet prison project, but we’re have no doubt that the schemes are cooking up. And likely on overdrive since their intention of further secrecy was spoiled.

So, as if one bad project weren’t enough, now the community is looking at the possibility of an ICE detention center (likely in addition to a state penitentiary). Federal dollars, state politics, and private contractors often come together in these deals and it’s always rural towns left holding the bag. For the district, that means more than just traffic, noise, safety concerns, and the like—it means taxpayer-funded infrastructure stretched thin, local control further stripped away, and our towns tied to a national deportation system that none of us had any say in inviting here.

ICE facilities don’t spring up in wealthy suburbs. They land in rural counties where state officials assume the people won’t push back. But we’ve proven those assumptions wrong before, and we will again. And it’s already started from our Sheriff:

The Special Election Slow-Roll

Overarching these underlying concerns is the district’s current lack of representation in the upper chamber of the legislature. The late Senator Gary Stubblefield’s seat has been vacant since his untimely passing on September 2, 2025. On September 26th, the Governor issued a proclamation setting the special election to fill his seat for June 9, 2026. There are numerous problems with this.

First and foremost, the legislature’s fiscal session will be held through April and May of 2026. A June special election leaves the district, ~82,000 Arkansans, without representation in all of those decisions. It also leaves us without a voice in the Senate, anyone to call with questions, a vote in committee meetings, and representation through all of the other functions lawmakers perform for 280 days.

Second, the statutory time frame for a special election to be called is a maximum of 150 days from the date of vacancy barring, at the Governor’s discretion, impracticality or undue burden—which of course she has cited. There’s some legal nuance here that we won’t get into (both because it’s boring and because it will likely be litigated) but, to simplify matters, 130 days past the statutory requirement, especially when party primaries are being held in the spring, in no way meets the statutory requirement of “as soon as practicable after the 150th day” after vacancy, which is the standard if an undue burden is declared.

We have plenty of thoughts to convey the district’s feeling about this, but we really aren’t capable of writing it any better than how the Senator’s daughter, Amber Sullivan, summed it up in a press conference the morning of September 30th:

What It All Means

All of these actions must be taken together because nothing in Franklin County or our Senate District is happening in a vacuum. From the perspective of the community, this is tantamount to political retribution and retaliation for the district’s overwhelming resistance to a faultily planned prison.

It may be in hushed voices but, listen carefully, and across the state you’ll hear stories of similar tit for tat political horse trading and strongarming to carry out an agenda seemingly only dictated by the Governor’s whim. A tactic that Senator Stubblefield not so subtly decried as “extortion.”

Republican, Democrat, Independent, Libertarian, Green, Constitutionalist, or otherwise—you have to ask yourself:

Is this the kind of government to which we consent?

Iced Tea

So, forward we march into the consequences of our actions—however just those actions may be—the long arm of the Federal government now reaching across the Mississippi to have its way with Senate District 26 in Arkansas while the citizens repeat the cries of our Revolutionary ancestors.

However unjust the consequences may be, we’ve been advocating for the future of this district and this state since Day 1 and have zero intention of stopping. Though, as ever, we cannot do it alone and implore you to keep showing up, keep asking questions, keep pressing for transparency.

At present, it may feel like the district is iced—frozen out of decisions about our own future and left to watch while politicians and consultants carve up our lives—but the Arkansas sun sure burns hot in June. And it won’t be a slow melt; it will be a flash flood that’s no longer theirs to control.

Our hope is that the care we’ve taken in preparing this case shows our commitment to accuracy and transparency. Trust is not something we take lightly. It matters to us as an organization and as individuals, and we want to carry that trust forward into the next election cycle as we continue to provide clear, honest education on the issues and the candidates that deserve careful consideration.

Trust is a word we throw around a lot, but don’t always stop to consider. Who do you trust with your time? With your money? With your children? With your story? With your life?

In the digital age, we’ve been sold the idea that access to information means access to knowledge and that we no longer have to pay for reliable and accurate news. What once passed for journalism is now often a carefully edited performance, complete with clickbait headlines, doctored images, and a constant cycle of outrage.

Mainstream media has become performative, with a few facts sprinkled in. In fact, it’s often in lockstep with social platforms, chasing algorithms that reward sensationalism over substance. The mundane becomes dramatic, and the complex becomes divisive. Every policy is reduced to a headline, and every person a partisan. It’s not just about informing the public anymore, it’s about stirring the pot.

And into that pot step the fringe.

Some of the most extreme websites and channels know exactly how to catch the eye of moderate, otherwise reasonable people. They take a half-truth, wrap it in righteous fury, and slap on a headline that begs to be shared. Add a few AI-generated deepfakes or out-of-context video clips, and suddenly fiction becomes fact, because it feels true.

This has dangerous consequences for everyone, but especially for those without stable internet access or digital literacy. Rural residents and senior citizens are often the first to be left behind. Many don’t use social media. Many don’t trust it. They grew up with print journalism, with names they recognized and reporters they could call. The loss of the printed newspaper isn’t just inconvenient for them, it’s a cultural and civic blow that leaves them cut off, isolated, and misinformed.

At Gravel & Grit, we had to learn early on who to trust with our story.

Not everyone who showed up with a microphone got it right. Some oversimplified. Others spun the facts into something that skirted around the whole truth, or just said a whole lot of nothing (still looking at you AP). But a few outlets listened. They took time. They asked follow-up questions. They printed our quotes. They spent time with us in our communities. And that’s who we learned to trust. They are the ones that told our story.

If Arkansas is going to survive this divisive age, local media needs to reclaim its role, not as a mouthpiece for the left or the right, but as a reliable guidepost for the community. The people in small towns, in farming communities, in nursing homes and on dirt roads, deserve to get news that is meaningful to them, just as much as anyone scrolling through a feed in Little Rock..

According to the Winthrop Rockefeller Institute’s Civic Arkansas project, most Arkansans want to be involved. They’re not apathetic. They’re lost. They don’t know where to go, what to read, or how to take the first step. That’s not a failure of interest. It’s a failure of communication. It’s the void left behind when local newspapers died, and it’s one of the clearest reasons why printed, community-based news needs to make a comeback. Without it, too many are left in the dark, especially in rural towns where trust is built face to face, not through sensationalized, digital headlines.

Recently, Adam Watson and I were privileged to attend the Press and Community Convening, sponsored by the Winthrop Rockefeller Institute’s Civic Arkansas. It was refreshing to join a room full of journalists and civic-minded Arkansans discussing the future of local news, especially news for rural communities. The 2023 Arkansas Civic Health Index tells us: access to trusted, local information is essential for civic engagement. Panelists offered innovative ideas for funding independent journalism and rebuilding community trust. It was a hopeful reminder that the fight for local news is also a fight for a healthier democracy.

So here’s our ask.

Gravel & Grit is asking for your trust. Not because we have all the answers, but because we’re committed to finding them, and to sharing what we learn with honesty and transparency.

We’re chasing the truth. Not the version according to Republicans, or the version according to Democrats. Just the truth.

We love Arkansas. We believe in the rural spirit that built this state. But too many of our small towns are dying. Others are being pushed aside or trampled on. All of them deserve our attention. All of them deserve our support.

And most of all… we all deserve representation we can put our trust in.

.

At a joint meeting of the Arkansas Senate and House City, County, and Local Affairs Committees on August 13, 2025, lawmakers convened at the annual conference of the Arkansas Association of Counties to hear comments on the state's mounting jail overcrowding crisis. The Rogers Convention Center ballroom was packed that afternoon with around 20 legislators, state officials, county judges, sheriffs, the media, and members of the public. They came to discuss urgent issues surrounding state prison capacity projections and the strain on county jails, all behind the backdrop of the State’s controversial attempt to build an unwelcome prison in Franklin County.

We were there too. Once we saw that the agenda included a public comment section we prepped testimony, took time off work, and planned to travel to the meeting—two hours away from the impact area of these discussions.

This is one of the most, if not the most, critical issues facing the State at present and, deservedly, the room was all ears. At least for a moment.

A Room Full of the Right People, For a Moment

During the main agenda, “experts” and officials presented a barrage of facts and forecasts about Arkansas's incarceration dilemma. Key points included beating the dead horse of the State’s dire need for additional bed space and praising the “tough on crime” Protect Arkansas Act (while somehow simultaneously acknowledging that we’ve put the cart before the horse).

In short, the committee heard hours of sobering information on how Arkansas manages incarceration. And, at least while the official presentations lasted, everyone paid attention—bright eyed and ready to pounce on any potential kernel of truth that could support the State’s shiny new prison project, drug through the mud as it may be.

These were all the right people to hear the arguments we had prepared, to hear the heartfelt accounts of folks on the ground who would have their lives upended by these decisions, to hear from the people who put them in office and whose consent to being governed is the only source of their power. But when the final agenda item came, Public Comment, the atmosphere shifted dramatically.

By the time the floor opened for citizens to speak, most of the officials had left. One by one, the invited speakers had trickled out after finishing their part and most of the remaining legislators packed up their things and left as the first speaker (me) picked up the microphone.

Out of all of the lawmakers who started the meeting, only five remained in their seats through the public comment period. The rows of chairs that had been filled with department heads and experts were empty. In fact, of all the people listed to speak on the agenda, every single one was gone except for one—Lee Watson, a member of the Board of Corrections, who to his credit stayed until the very end.

As I walked up to the microphone and looked out at a mostly vacant panel, where a sea of officials had sat just an hour earlier, now only a lonely handful faced me. It was both infuriating and validating. Infuriating, because it showed a blatant disregard and disrespect for the citizens who showed up. Validating, because it proved some of the very points I was about to make:

Speaking Truth to Power, Even If They Plug Their Ears

Undeterred, I delivered the message I came to share—one by one, all of us did—as we’ve done so many times, to thin air. We spoke the truth our “leaders” needed to hear, whether they wanted to or not, and whether they were there to hear it or not.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught more and more lawmakers leaving the room (some you can see in the video of our remarks below). Some in power simply refuse to confront the inconvenient facts about the costs, the consequences, and the public outcry. But we pressed on, speaking for the record, for those few lawmakers still polite enough to listen, for our communities, and for our state.

As I sat listening to my neighbors’ and colleagues’ comments after speaking my piece, it struck me that what we’re doing still matters. That, even if most of the committee had walked out, their refusal to listen didn’t make the truths any less true. The empty chairs only strengthened our resolve to get these words on the record—because for every official who had left, there were regular folks in that room and watching from home who were nodding along, grateful that someone was saying what needed to be said.

Keep Showing Up

Walking out of that near-empty hearing, I felt a mix of frustration and invigoration. Frustration at the lack of respect showed by disappearing when it was the citizens’ turn to talk. Invigoration because it reaffirmed why we must continue to show up. This is what democracy looks like sometimes: ordinary people standing at a microphone, speaking to nearly empty rooms, and doing it again and again, ad nauseum, until change comes.

It’s tempting to quit. Every day. After all, what’s the point of attending hearings if the very people who need to hear you aren’t there? If the steamrolling continues despite the mountain of facts and evidence you present? However, our presence itself sends a message and, ultimately, if we aren’t willing to be the best version of a roadblock we can be, what’s going to stop them?

Every time even a few of us attend a meeting, ask a tough question, or voice an objection, it goes on the public record. It forces at least some officials to reckon with the fact that we are paying attention. And it signals to the media and the broader community that there’s more to the story than what the officials want to portray—a lot more.

To those few legislators1 who did stay through the public comments, we thank them having the decency to listen. They got to hear truths that their colleagues2 missed. And it’s a safe bet to say those truths will be repeated far beyond that ballroom in Rogers. We will make sure of it.

What You Can Do

Your Vote Is Their Accountability

Moments like this should also remind us that our power as citizens isn’t confined to public comment at meetings. Ultimately, the way we hold leaders accountable is at the ballot box. If a lawmaker can’t be bothered to listen to constituents in a committee hearing, why should you trust them to represent you effectively?

Come election time, don’t just vote down party lines out of habit or loyalty. Both parties have “leaders” who will tune you out and leaders who will lend an ear. Do your homework on individual candidates and support those who have earned it through their actions, not just those wearing the “right” jersey—voting isn’t a team sport.

Talk is cheap, make them earn your vote by demonstrating respect, transparency, and a willingness to hear the uncomfortable truths.

Stay Engaged

Democracy only works if we all continue to participate, especially when it's hard. Here are a few immediate ways to stay involved and make a difference:

• SHARE. If you find what happened at this hearing outrageous or important, tell others about it. Spread the word on social media, in conversation, or by forwarding this article. Let’s make sure more people know how some of our leaders behave when they think no one’s watching.

  Share

• SUBSCRIBE. Knowledge is power. By subscribing to Gravel & Grit you get deep dives on the real facts. No political games, no nonsense. It’s 100% free and always will be, because an informed community is a stronger community.

  Subscribe now

• PAY ATTENTION. Whether it’s attending local meetings, following credible news on these issues, or reading official reports, please stay curious and stay engaged. When officials know the public is watching and informed, they are far more likely to act in the public’s interest. And when they don’t, you’ll only know if you’re watching.

Finally, remember that your voice matters, even when it feels like nobody in power wants to listen. The empty chairs in that committee room were a shameful sight, but they also remind us that we must persist.

Even when they plug their ears, we’ll keep showing up, speaking truth to power, and shining a light on the facts they would rather ignore. Because if we don’t, who will?

The State keeps talking about how a new 3,000-bed state prison in Franklin County will “create jobs.” In this particular case, that’s a problem, not a solution. In this part of Arkansas, there simply are not 800 qualified, willing people sitting around looking for work at a prison—not now and not for the pay the state typically offers. The latest workforce numbers are out, and they make that painfully obvious.

The Math.

As of April 2025, unemployment rates in the counties closest to the proposed site were some of the lowest in the state:

Franklin at 3.4%,

Sebastian at 3.1%,

Crawford at 3.3%,

Logan at 3.7%, and

Johnson at 3.9%.

In real numbers, that means there are only about 3,723 unemployed people across all five counties combined (and that’s before you narrow the list to people who actually meet the requirements to be correctional officers). Background checks, physical fitness, 24/7 shift work, and willingness to take on one of the hardest jobs in law enforcement shrink that number quickly.

Even if, somehow, every single unemployed person in those five counties applied (which will not happen), the State still would not have the staff to run the prison because the qualifications necessary cut the applicant pool dramatically. And, in reality, the State would be competing with dozens of other employers for every single one of those people—and the qualified ones even more so.

The scale of that competition is easy to see when comparing the March 2025 unfilled vacancy numbers from Indeed.com with the unemployment numbers. That data reflects the following numbers of job openings:

Franklin County, 2,546 open jobs,

Sebastian County, 2,741 open jobs,

Crawford County, 3,823 open jobs,

Logan County, 1,129 open jobs, and

Johnson County, 715 open jobs.

That’s 10,954 open positions with 3,723 unemployed folks to fill them in the same five counties that would be expected to supply this prison with 800 workers. The labor market here is already running hot, and a prison will only make it hotter.

The Market.

The Fort Smith metro, the main regional job hub in the area, sat at just 3.2% unemployment in April. That means most people who want work already have it—and those who don’t have work are unlikely to drive 40+ miles to rural Franklin County to work in a prison environment. This is not an economy with extra workers waiting around for a massive employer to roll into town.

Competition for workers is already intense statewide. Arkansas employers posted 79,000 job openings in May, up from 74,000 in April. This isn’t a situation where corrections jobs will automatically fill themselves. Especially not when considering the Department of Corrections history of being unable to recruit and retain sufficient staff.

At a time when almost every other industry is looking for staff, prisons are just one more bidder in an already expensive talent market—and one that’s less attractive when sited in a location that negates the potential for a reasonable work/life balance.

Contributing Factors.

There is also the Immigration and Customs Enforcement factor. The Department of Homeland Security has been on a hiring spree, lifting its age limit for new recruits, offering signing bonuses up to $50,000, and providing pay scales and retirement packages that the State cannot match. Now, when a deputy, jailer, or police officer in the River Valley can move to a federal job with higher pay and better benefits, the decision is not difficult. This recruitment push is happening right now; at the exact time the State says it wants to fill hundreds of prison jobs in the same region.

Raiding Local Law Enforcement

The State repeatedly misses a key point when emphasizing the prison’s job creation: where will those people come from? A prison of this size will have to pull heavily from existing police departments, sheriff’s offices, EMS crews, and county jails, all of which are already struggling to hire and keep people.

The City of Charleston’s situation shows the problem clearly. The police department is so short-staffed that there is no police coverage at all between midnight and 6 a.m. That is not a minor inconvenience. It is a public safety gap. If you think a prison offering steady pay and benefits would not lure away the few officers Charleston does have, you are not paying attention to how law enforcement staffing works.

Across the state, departments have been holding multi-city recruiting drives, lowering entry requirements, and still falling short of their staffing needs. Adding an 800-employee prison to this labor pool does not create jobs, it simply shifts people from one critical public safety role to another, leaving dangerous holes behind. Yet another way the State has unilaterally decided the safety of the people of this region is less important than the safety of those in population centers.

Notably, State representatives acknowledged the reality of this workforce cannibalization at the town hall held in Charleston last November. They brushed off the concerns by saying that the imbalance should resolve itself in a decade or so. I don’t think we need to tell you that that’s not an acceptable solution for local law enforcement and first responders.

The Reality Little Rock Doesn’t Want to Talk About

A prison is not like a factory that can slow down when short-staffed. A prison runs 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and requires full coverage—the consequences of understaffing are immediate and severe. Right now, there are fewer than 4,000 unemployed people in the five counties closest to the site. The State is competing against more than 10,000 local job openings plus tens of thousands more statewide, and federal agencies are actively poaching the same talent.

The math does not work. To meet staffing needs, the prison would have to bring in people from far outside the area, which means long commutes, higher turnover, and more stress on an already stretched labor market. Or it will take people from local police and emergency services, which is a problem no ribbon-cutting ceremony will fix.

Add to all of that that staffing challenges are only part of the picture. The location raises questions about water supply, power, road access, emergency services, and the fact that local residents have been strongly opposed since day one. Even members of the state’s own Board of Corrections have raised concerns about the size and cost of the project. Lawmakers have rejected the $750m funding request five times. Pretending that getting shovels in the ground will solve all these problems ignores reality.

Beyond Staffing

Even if the state could find enough workers, the site itself is on land historically recognized as part of the Chickamauga territory. The Chickamauga are considered “Old Settlers” who were granted land under U.S. treaty agreements before the Trail of Tears. The proposed prison tract falls within the boundaries they claim as sovereign territory.

Under the U.S. Supreme Court’s 2020 McGirt v. Oklahoma ruling, land promised to tribes by treaty remains tribal land unless Congress explicitly says otherwise. The McGirt decision reaffirmed that tribal sovereignty carries legal weight in state criminal jurisdiction and land use. If the Chickamauga chose to challenge construction in federal court using McGirt as precedent, the state could find its $750 million prison tied up in litigation for years. The risk is not theoretical. Oklahoma is still dealing with the ripple effects of McGirt, and Arkansas could quickly find itself in the same position.

The Bottom Line.

When you add it all up—the very low unemployment, the small local labor pool, the tens of thousands of competing job openings, the ICE recruitment blitz, the strain on local law enforcement, the legal complications of building on Chickamauga Tribal Land, and the lack of infrastructure—building a prison of this scale in Franklin County is not just a bad idea. It is an idea that falls apart before the first concrete is poured.

The State can call it “economic development” all it wants. The numbers call it something else: absurd.

Sign the Petition

Last Wednesday, July 23rd, several members of Gravel & Grit submitted a formal complaint to the Arkansas Joint Performance Review Committee requesting a full investigation into the Franklin County prison project. This isn’t a step we took lightly—but the facts demand oversight and it’s time this cronyism, secrecy, and incompetence is formally investigated.

Among other functions, the Joint Performance Review Committee specifically:

Conducts investigations into specific problem areas of the administration of state government as may be brought to the attention of the committee;

Conducts hearings on citizen complaints and views regarding the operation of state government;

Serves as a forum for citizens to air their complaints and suggestions regarding the operation of state government; and

Reviews the expenditures of the various agencies, departments, and programs of state government to assure that they are being administered in accordance with legislative intent and are being administered in such manner as to provide the taxpayers with the greatest service at the lowest reasonable cost.

Since the moment the Franklin County site was pushed through with neither local input nor due diligence, there has been a consistent, demonstrable pattern of executive overreach, fiscal irresponsibility, and outright deception.

Sign the Petition

Just a few highlights:

• Contracts were signed before funding was secured, despite constitutional and statutory prohibitions.

• Consultants from California have submitted bills for first-class flights, steak dinners, and alcohol, all paid for with Arkansas taxpayer dollars.

• The “best site in Arkansas” was under contract just three weeks after the State for the listing, with no feasibility study, no workforce analysis, and water capacity that can’t meet even a fraction of the need.

• The state has already burned through $75 million that was reallocated from a far more affordable, shovel-ready expansion in Calico Rock.

Meanwhile, every time lawmakers have been asked to support this project, they’ve refused. Five times.

We’re not filing this complaint as political theater. We’re doing it because everyday Arkansans deserve better accountability. We’re demanding real transparency, legislative oversight, and a return to reasoned process and principle, not partisan posturing. It’s about basic good governance, not grandstanding.

You can read the full complaint linked here.

A public petition has been launched for citizens to add their voices to urge the opening of an investigation, and we hope you’ll join us in making your voice heard. Because the future of Franklin County—and our state—depends on who’s willing to stand up when it counts. And that time is now.

Sign the Petition