Rural Broadband Inequities

At 14-years-old, my daughter has become a pawn in a political game between the Haves and the Have-Nots.

At the Graham Ranch, we have horrible internet service, severely limited by both speed and quantity.

I’m frugal and have been known to take a passive-aggressive stand by not purchasing the latest and greatest technological gadget, but I spend money on internet access.

A lot of money.

Still, the ranch lays in a No Mans’ Land between fiberoptic cables. One line runs about 5 miles to the west while another line connects people 10 miles to the east.

Neither company plans to invest in a fiberoptic line that will not pay for itself.

Yet, more and more of my direct marketing business depends on internet access.

I am at an economic disadvantage because I can’t post or download videos to market my products.

I take orders via my website, but I communicate via email or phone after an order has been placed.

Youtube is like a luxurious, hot bath: I treat myself once in a while, but neither is a daily ritual.

We don’t even think of streaming a movie -- unless we decide to play disco ball movie night, where the dialogue starts and stops in fits just like a nauseating, spinning disco ball used to make us look like jerky dancing robots back in the 70s.

Instead, we receive a Netflix DVD in the mail three days after we send the last one back.

Broadband internet service has become fundamental to modern life so quickly that many of us didn’t recognize the cloud of dust leaving us in its wake.

The Covid-19 pandemic has only solidified the necessity of this technological infrastructure.

One word defines it: Zoom.

I don’t have the bandwidth to participate in Zoom meetings so I miss educational opportunities along with chances to participate in policy decisions.

I tolerate the inequity of expensive yet inadequate internet service for myself. After all, I chose to live here.

But when something as fundamental to modern life impacts my daughter’s education, I lose all tolerance.

I become a German Shepherd protecting my offspring. The only difference is that a German Shepherd eventually will let go of a person’s leg.

Fortunately, my daughter, Abby, has the ability to learn in a variety of situations.

When schools closed last spring, she brought her chromebook home and checked in with her teachers via email.

This fall, the first time her school needed to revert to distance learning, the school arranged for teachers to speak to their students for 15 minutes each day and assign independent study for the rest of each class period.

Abby listened to the teachers via her phone.

Last week, the school imposed distance learning once again because of Covid infections. This time, each student is expected to attend class via broadband internet for the entire class period every day.

If Abby did that, she would use up our monthly internet allotment before lunch on the first day.

A political candidate suggested rural residents don’t need broadband internet. Instead, we should band with our neighbors within sight distance to erect a small booster tower and share the monthly expense. If we had 10 neighbors participate, each of us would pony up only $50 each month.

If I could see 10 neighbors, I probably would have fiberoptic access.

Access to broadband is today’s version of yesterday’s access to electricity and phone service.

Those who have it are at a distinct advantage over those who don’t.

I am not an advocate for government interference in our daily lives, but broadband internet access is exactly the type of infrastructure our government needs to fund.

Because a German Shepherd’s daughter needs access to education, too.