Red states are lining up to test just how much leeway they can get from Uncle Sam’s education mandates, with some pushing for block grants that would allow them to consolidate federal aid into a single grant with few spending restrictions. Iowa and Oklahoma are among the first states to formally request such flexibility from U.S. Secretary of Education Linda McMahon.
While D.C. insiders debate whether the administration even has the authority to approve these waiver requests, state leaders aren’t waiting for a legal consensus. Many see them as a long-overdue correction to federal overreach. With enforcement mechanisms weakened by mass staff cuts at the U.S. Department of Education, the outcome is less certain than it would have been in the past, when such requests would have been swiftly shot down. The real question is not whether more states will follow Iowa’s and Oklahoma’s lead, but whether Washington will even resist—or go even further by preemptively granting blanket waivers to states without waiting to be asked.
For now, the waiver push is largely a red-state phenomenon, with GOP governors, state legislators, and education chiefs leading the charge. But their arguments—that federal requirements are too rigid, that local leaders know best, and that the alignment of the political stars makes now the time to act—could eventually resonate beyond Republican circles. Whether this movement stays confined to red states or expands to blue ones may depend less on ideology and more on how far McMahon is willing to go. If a waiver on a non-waivable provision (more below) is granted without immediate consequences, other states—regardless of political color or hue—may feel emboldened to put forth similar requests.
A new report from Anne Hyslop (at All4Ed) and Dave Powell (at Education First) enumerates the ten provisions within federal law that the Secretary cannot waive. These span a range of fiscal and civil rights requirements, but the most significant may be the one that prohibits waivers from “any statutory or regulatory requirement relating to the allocation or distribution of funds…” In plain terms, this means the Secretary lacks the authority to rewrite how much Title I money—or other federal formula grants—each state receives. Nor can states use waivers to override the rules dictating how those funds are distributed to districts. These formulas are written into law, and while states and districts do have some flexibility (e.g., ESSA’s transferability rules, which allow states and districts to move money from various streams into Title I), those flexibilities exist within clear statutory limits. But Iowa and Oklahoma want to go further—potentially much further.
Both states have formally requested waivers to convert federal education funds into block grants—an approach explicitly prohibited under federal law. Iowa Gov. Kim Reynolds has argued that this shift would be a “gamechanger” in flexibility, while Oklahoma’s request highlights how it would “significantly enhance choice, efficiency, and effectiveness” in education spending.
But what does that really mean in practice? The left’s biggest fear—one not entirely unfounded—is that these waivers could serve as a backdoor to voucherizing federal funds, allowing states to reroute dollars intended for public schools into private school choice programs. That would go well beyond existing flexibilities and inch closer to a fundamental reshaping of federal K-12 funding—albeit one entirely consistent with President Trump’s and McMahon’s policy preferences.
Notably, neither state appears interested in waiving the annual testing requirement dating back to NCLB—a provision the Secretary can legally waive, which prospect has drawn concern in some quarters.
But the real flashpoint is money: Can the department approve waivers that violate statutory limits? On paper, the answer is no. But in practice, the situation is starting to resemble a broader pattern in the Trump administration, where actions proceed in ways that don’t appear to be permitted by existing law—and where there’s little hesitation to ignore court orders halting those actions.
As Hyslop and Powell point out, every administration—both Democrat and Republican—over the last twenty-five years has used its waiver authority to provide states additional flexibility. When I was working in Indiana in 2012, we were among the first ten states to receive waivers getting us out from under some of NCLB’s dated strictures. Even then, the waiver process raised eyebrows—not because of what was being waived, but because of the strings attached by former Education Secretary Arne Duncan. To qualify, states had to adopt common college-and-career ready standards, join one of two assessment consortia, and implement teacher evaluations tied to test scores. That approach sparked a backlash, and when ESSA was passed in 2015, it explicitly prohibited the Secretary from issuing waivers contingent on specific policy choices—an intentional curb on executive overreach championed by Lamar Alexander.
McMahon and her team have until July to respond to Iowa’s and Oklahoma’s requests, so stay tuned. If the department grants these waivers, it could set a precedent that reshapes the allocation of federal education funds, potentially limiting resources for the nation’s most vulnerable students. The decision may mark a pivotal moment in the balance of power between federal oversight and state control, with lasting effects on how education is funded and delivered across the country.
