By Isaac Shadpour

As Lakewood’s children file into classrooms for the start of a new school year, many schools are already facing a crisis of survival. Behind the cheerful sounds of learning lies a sobering reality: Tuition collection is collapsing at unprecedented levels, leaving even long-established mosdos unable to cover payroll or basic expenses. For the first time in decades, administrators admit they are unsure how long some schools can keep their doors open.

This isn’t a distant threat—it’s unfolding right now. Schools are reporting million-dollar deficits, teachers are waiting for overdue paychecks, and some schools have already delayed opening until back debts could be settled. This financial instability demands immediate action before it undermines the very foundation of our school system.

 

Letter from an insider of the Lakewood system

I’m writing to bring attention to the severe financial challenges currently facing many schools in Lakewood. This year has been described by administrators as the hardest they have ever faced.

According to sources familiar with local schools, approximately 40 percent of total tuition contracts due are not being paid, resulting in deficits of more than $1 million for many yeshivas. Two schools announced that they would not open until they are able to pay off debts from unpaid tuition stretching back multiple years (one of those schools has reopened at the time of this writing).

While some families genuinely can’t afford the costs due to financial hardship, others appear to be prioritizing other expenses—such as costly summer camps, expensive vacations, and pricey home renovations, among other things—over tuition obligations. As a result, schools are left struggling immensely. Many can’t even mount traditional fundraising campaigns because the funds simply are not there.

This crisis threatens the very stability of our educational institutions, and it’s vital that the community recognizes the urgency of the problem. Without a collective effort to address tuition collection, the ability of schools to continue providing education will be severely compromised.

 

Other voices from inside the system

Another insider deeply involved in Lakewood’s school leadership confirmed the severity of the problem. “Sadly, this letter is extremely accurate,” he said. “I’m on the board of three mosdos in Lakewood, and all of them are behind with payroll for the first time since they opened—an average of twelve years. Awareness is definitely the first step toward a solution.”

Other school insiders echoed that sentiment, stressing that awareness must translate into structure and accountability. “There are schools that closed and haven’t paid up what they owe,” one noted. “Every school should have a board of governors that checks the books and authorizes expenditures to make sure they’re fiscally responsible, just as our Board of Education has monitors on spending.”

But beyond monitoring, insiders stress the need for an intervention mechanism. After speaking to many askanim, the author believes that the most promising solution is the creation of a $5 million community fund, administered by a vaad of rabbanim and askanim. Schools in financial distress could apply for assistance, and the Va’ad would step in not only with financial help but also with oversight and guidance to stabilize operations.

There would, however, be a crucial condition: Any school receiving help must open its financial books to the Va’ad on an ongoing basis. This transparency requirement is designed to prevent schools from slipping back into deficit while protecting the integrity of the fund.

Such a solution could mean the difference between patchwork survival and sustainable stability. By combining communal responsibility with fiscal accountability, the fund would give schools the breathing room they need while ensuring long-term solvency.

Lakewood’s schools are at a crossroads. Without immediate intervention, deficits could deepen and closures could multiply, leaving hundreds of children without a place to learn and teachers unpaid. But with a united community effort—through greater tuition responsibility, fiscal oversight, and the establishment of a dedicated intervention fund—we can turn things around.

The time has come for action. The financial health of our mosdos is not just a line item on a budget—it’s the foundation of our children’s future and thus the future of Lakewood.

 

Jackson Draws the Line: “Never a Sanctuary City,” Council Declares

When the Jackson Township Council voted unanimously to pass Resolution 274-2025, it did more than make a symbolic statement. It joined a growing movement of municipalities pushing back against New Jersey’s “sanctuary state” policies and aligned itself with the federal government’s call for stricter immigration enforcement. The resolution is largely declarative, but its message is unmistakable: Jackson will not become a sanctuary city, and its leaders are putting that stance on record.

The resolution, adopted without dissent, formally states that Jackson shall “never become a sanctuary city” and pledges full cooperation with federal immigration authorities “to the extent permitted by law.” In practice, this means the township cannot override New Jersey’s existing Immigrant Trust Directive, which limits how local law enforcement can interact with agencies like Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). But Jackson officials say the resolution sends a message.

“It’s really more about the principle,” one source familiar with Jackson politics told The Voice. “We can’t order our cops to ignore the Attorney General. Their hands are tied. But this resolution says clearly: Jackson supports federal law and believes the state should reverse course on sanctuary policies.”

The source emphasized that while the township is not “anti-immigration,” it is “pro-law” and deeply concerned about the local consequences of unchecked illegal immigration.

Among the issues cited by township officials are mounting strains on housing, with multiple families living in single-family homes—often in violation of zoning rules—becoming a recurring challenge.

“When landlords rent to several undocumented families under one roof, the whole community suffers,” the source said. “It’s unfair to the housing market, it burdens neighbors, and it puts pressure on public services.”

New Jersey’s 2018 Immigrant Trust Directive limits the types of assistance that New Jersey state and local law enforcement officers may provide to federal immigration authorities, including ICE.

For example, under its rules, a New Jersey police officer may not stop, question, arrest, search, or detain an individual simply because the officer thinks the individual might be undocumented. In addition, police officers can’t ask about an individual’s immigration status except in the rare cases when that information is relevant to a specific criminal investigation.

Jackson’s resolution can’t override these rules. Township police remain bound by the directive, and as the source acknowledged, “No officer is going to risk his career by defying the Attorney General.”

Instead, the resolution is a non-binding declaration—a policy statement aimed at pressuring Trenton to revisit its approach. “We don’t like the law, but that is the law,” the source admitted.

Jackson’s resolution was modeled after a similar measure passed recently in nearby Howell Township. But local leaders say Jackson’s version goes further, with sharper language and explicit alignment with President Donald Trump’s executive order condemning sanctuary jurisdictions.

“Howell’s resolution said they don’t want to be a sanctuary town,” the source explained. “Jackson’s said we don’t want to be a sanctuary town, and we want to enforce it the way President Trump is enforcing it. The wording was stronger. We wanted to send a louder message.”

Critics have pointed out that resolutions like Jackson’s carry no legal weight and can’t change the state’s directives. Supporters counter that symbolism matters—especially when local residents feel the practical effects of state policies on schools, neighborhoods, and public resources.

“This is a clear sign from our council that they stand with the law-abiding residents of Jackson,” the source said. “We’re not against immigrants. We’re against policies that hurt our community.”