Problem-solving is practiced and preached at Bradleyville, a small school district tucked among rolling rural hills in south-central Missouri. When faced with a staffing shortage – due in part to a need for affordable, accessible childcare – the school opened an on-site daycare with subsidized rates.
“We don’t get any federal or state funding,” said Gina Norwine, the school’s principal. “We felt like there was a need, and that we really wanted to try and do that for our community.”
I know this isn’t the first place to open such a daycare, but any instance of this feels like a big deal in rural Missouri. Bradleyville is a town with a gas station, post office, produce cooperative, a few churches, and a lot of beautiful rolling hillsides. The closest town with a grocery store is 17 miles away.
As in many rural school districts, the Bradleyville R-1 School District is the largest employer for miles around. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t struggles in filling those jobs when younger teachers are needed, and they must make a choice: Work, or stay home with their kids because there are no accessible options for child care – either by distance or cost.
That’s where the idea of the school-based daycare was born. The Little Eaglet Daycare accepts children from birth to age 3 and offers a subsidized day rate of $15 for children of staff and teachers, and, if space allows, $20 for community members.
“The daycare has made a huge difference in my family. It has given me a safe, reliable place to send my child,” said Alexis Laughlin, the school’s secretary, a mother of two whose 3-year-old is enrolled at the daycare. Before that option existed, her childcare option was an hour away.
Gina Norwine, Bradleyville’s longtime principal, is an advocate for the daycare. It offers employees and community members (if spots exist) subsidized rates. (Photo by Kaitlyn McConnell)
“Within Taney County, there are not very many options for childcare, so having somewhere so close to home has benefited my family life tremendously. It also gives a place for people to work in the community. It is special to see people from the community take care (of), and love, my children.”
I spoke with Norwine, the school’s principal, in October to learn more about how the plan came to be a couple of years ago. She’s been a Bradleyville educator for more than 30 years and represents the long-held personal connections present in the rural district. She and her husband met at the school, her daughter is the counselor, her son has taught there, and her son-in-law, Ronnie Ray, the school’s elementary assistant principal, will take her role leading the Eagles when she retires at the end of this school year.
That vantage point has shown her the needs and opportunities of small schools.
“I think we’ve had some (employees) who … had to stay home because daycare was so expensive, especially before we had this,” Norwine said. “If they had two or three kids, they couldn’t afford to pay for the daycare.”
The Larger Need for Childcare Across Missouri
Isolated small schools have long fascinated me. As I wander mile after mile of rural byways, it always makes me smile to see a school: A reminder that community, even as businesses have dwindled, still remains. Yet that idyllic scene is at odds with the need for childcare.
Some people turn to family. Others, like Laughlin, had to make hard choices about whether to work or drive long distances. It’s part of a statewide issue, says Beth Ann Lang, deputy CEO of Child Care Aware, a Missouri nonprofit focused on workforce development, childcare business supports, advocacy, and policy work.
“Southwest Missouri faces a significant childcare shortage due to a combination of economic, workforce, and geographic challenges,” Lang wrote me. “The high cost of care makes it unaffordable for many families, while low wages and the lack of benefits for childcare workers lead to staffing shortages and high turnover. Rural areas are especially impacted, with many counties classified as ‘childcare deserts,’ having far more children than available licensed slots, particularly for infants and toddlers.”
Lang notes that the “potential gap” between needed spots in childcare facilities and reality is big: 39,456 spots across 18 southwest Missouri counties.
“Teachers in Missouri are increasingly affected by the childcare shortage, both as working parents and as part of the early-education workforce,” Lang noted. “Many educators struggle to find affordable, reliable care for their own children, leading some to leave the profession or delay returning to work until their children reach school age. At the same time, early childhood educators face job instability and burnout, with low wages and funding challenges contributing to high turnover.
“These issues not only impact individual teachers but also weaken the broader education system and workforce stability across the region,” she continued.
Bradleyville’s Little Eaglets daycare is housed in a trailer near the school in rural Taney County, Missouri. It cares for kids from just a few weeks old until they shift to the school’s preschool. (Photo by Kaitlyn McConnell)
This column isn’t about teachers specifically, but since we’re on the subject of education in Missouri. I think it’s relevant to note that the state has been working to improve its teacher retention rate. Lucas Bond, chief communications officer for the Missouri Department of Elementary and Secondary Education, pointed me to a website that states $40 million was recently invested in combating the issue.
Although childcare isn’t necessarily the primary cause of that teacher-retention challenge – Missouri teachers are said to be some of the lowest-paid in the country – it presumably doesn’t help the situation. And that’s further complicated by the financial stress some small rural districts face as tax revenue is limited. Missouri districts are also facing questions as the state grapples with an “open enrollment” model, which would allow families to redirect kids and revenue away from home districts.
And money is tight in Bradleyville. In October, it was listed as one of three Missouri schools experiencing financial stress, according to the state Department of Education. Its reality is complicated by the limited local industry and chunks of Mark Twain National Forest land (untaxed federally owned acreage) that reduce property tax revenue for many rural Ozarks counties.
Children’s artwork decorates the daycare space. (Photo by Kaitlyn McConnell)
Seeing Problem-Solving in Action at Bradleyville
For now, those financial realities didn’t keep me from walking down the halls with Norwine as we headed outside to see the daycare trailer. Along the way, she pointed out a painting of the previous Bradleyville building: An idyllic school built in the 1940s from native stones, a distinctive type of construction commonly seen in the Ozarks years ago. It was where she went to school as a child.
“Our enrollment has been down the last couple of years, but we tend to run anywhere from 200 to 220 students overall,” she said, noting it’s a destination for nearby rural K-8 districts when it’s time for high school.
“And, of course, it’s all under one roof,” she continued. “We have one elementary hallway, one high school hallway, and so there’s a lot of interaction between our ‘littles’ and our big kids. We have high school kids who do tutoring, and they go into the elementary classes and work with the elementary kiddos. We are pretty unique, I think.”
Norwine’s story, like many others at the district, is intertwined with literal and figurative family members jumping in to make things work.
“When you’re in such a small district, everybody kind of has other jobs – like I help in the kitchen when one of the cooks is gone,” she said. “Last week, the janitor was gone, so I cleaned up some puke. Sometimes you’ve just got to do what you’ve got to do.”
We exit the building and walk up the steps to a trailer, adorned with a friendly sign welcoming visitors to the Little Eaglet Daycare. Inside, I find a colorful space, two youngsters at play, their teacher, and a high school student helping with craft time.
Those kids are two of six children enrolled in the Bradleyville daycare; due to a stomach bug, the rest were out sick that day. As they ran and played, Laura Melton, their leader, spoke of the benefits for both her and the families involved.
Two children play at the Bradleyville daycare. A stomach bug kept the other kids home that day. (Photo by Kaitlyn McConnell)
“We’re all at the same spot, and that makes a big difference when you have children,” Melton said. “You’re not having to go everywhere. That’s a blessing.”
Her previous experience in childcare, a kiddo of her own enrolled at Bradleyville, and a desire to give back were all added benefits to the baseline benefit of a job.
“I just enjoy this. They’re just so full of life,” she said. “I lost my father, who was a big part of my life. I think it just brings life back to you. You just put back in what you were given.”
Norwine bends down at eye level with the child and smiles; a micro moment in a line of memories. Even if not fully remembered by the child, such a moment can help form a connection and a sense of community in a rural space that doesn’t feel forgotten, but also doesn’t always feel seen.
Perhaps a daycare isn’t the way to solve all of the school district’s challenges, but it is a way to help support its people and mission in a way that keeps it relevant in the lives of its people, and for the future of a place that is part of who they are.
“I can’t tell you how strongly I feel about small rural schools,” Norwine said. “I know there’s a push to do away with the smaller rural schools, and I think it would be such a tragedy if they did that. To me, not only do they have the educational side, but there’s a lot more learning that goes on at a rural school – there’s a sense of community.
“We’re all family,” she said. “We work together. The school is kind of the center point, actually, of this entire community. It’s very important.”
The post Ozarks Notebook: “I Can’t Tell You How Strongly I Feel About Small Rural Schools” appeared first on The Daily Yonder.




