With the Maine Law Court’s decision issued on Feb. 10, 2026, bringing the Boothbay Boothbay Harbor CSD school referendum lawsuit to a close, I believe it is important to explain why we filed the case—and to clarify some misunderstandings about what actually occurred. 

In November 2023, voters in Boothbay and Boothbay Harbor were asked to approve two major school construction questions tied to the proposed $89 million school project. Both questions were defeated.  The results were clear. Question 1, to renovate the elementary-middle school building, was rejected by a vote of 1,266 to 1,162. Question 2, which proposed construction of a new high school, was rejected by an even wider margin, 1,688 to 718. In the days that followed, Board of Trustees Chair Steve Lorrain said, “We’re going to proceed in the way the public wants, which is to fix the buildings.”  That mattered. Voters had spoken, and they had done so clearly. 

Instead, in early 2024, the elementary school proposal returned to voters largely unchanged in scope and cost. The vote was scheduled for April, on a Wednesday, rather than aligning with the regular municipal election cycle in May, when voters typically expect to participate. Holding a standalone, midweek vote at that time of year can affect turnout—particularly in a community like ours, where some year-round residents may still be away and where many voters are not expecting to go to the polls. That referendum ultimately passed by a narrow margin of 859 to 807. 

What is often missing from the public discussion is what was happening at the same time. 

As the board was preparing that April vote, a group of residents—including myself—was actively developing an alternative. Using prior facilities assessments, we built a proposal focused on addressing deferred maintenance and necessary upgrades at both the elementary school and the high school—at an estimated cost of approximately $15 million. This effort took place over several weeks. We engaged directly with voters and gathered signatures for a citizen’s petition that would have placed this alternative on the ballot if the April referendum failed. That petition was never submitted—because the April referendum passed. However, the work—and the voters behind it—did not disappear. Those signatures represented a meaningful portion of the community: residents who had voted “no” in November and who continued to support a different path forward. 

After the April vote, we had a narrow window to act. Within seven days, we organized a new petition under Maine’s reconsideration referendum process. That petition included two questions: one to reconsider the approved bond, and a second to present the alternative approach. In just four days, we gathered more than 400 signatures, exceeding the required threshold. That effort was made possible in large part because of the foundation built during the earlier, weeks-long petition effort. That petition was rejected by the district. 

At that point, a group of eight residents—including myself—filed suit. I served as the lead plaintiff, but this was not the effort of one individual. It reflected a broader concern within the community about process, fairness, and the lack of an alternative for voters to consider. 

Over the past year, much has been said about that lawsuit. Some of it has been inaccurate.

This case was never about opposing schools or refusing to invest in our students. We support strong schools and responsible investment in our facilities. This case was about process and fairness. 

Voters rejected a proposal in November 2023—by clear margins. They were told that outcome would be respected. Instead, the same proposal was brought back, while an alternative—supported by hundreds of residents—was never allowed to reach the ballot. That is why so many people signed those petitions. They were not confused. They were not misled. They were asking for a choice. 

While the courts ultimately ruled against us, the decision turned on technical aspects of how the petition was structured—not on whether reconsideration referendums are a valid tool. They are, and they remain available to voters. 

I do not regret being part of this effort. It gave voice to residents who felt their vote had been disregarded and who wanted a more transparent and inclusive process. 

Going forward, my hope is simple: that when decisions of this magnitude are presented to voters, they come with options, with clarity, and with respect for prior outcomes. 

Our community deserves nothing less—and that is the approach I am committed to bringing to the school board.