Parks and Desperation: How Texas Prioritizes Trails and Trees While Neglecting Its Most Vulnerable Citizens
In Texas, where political bluster about freedom and family values is as commonplace as cowboy hats, the state has quietly written a $1 billion check to expand its network of state parks. On the surface, it’s an easy win for lawmakers on both sides of the aisle. Who doesn’t love parks? Picturesque trails, rolling hills, and serene lakes make for fantastic photo ops and good press. But while politicians congratulate themselves for preserving open spaces, another group of Texans has been relegated to the margins: individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities (IDD).
The same state that found $1 billion to throw at its state parks could only muster up a measly $75 million for services designed to support people with IDD. These are citizens — Texans — who are desperately waiting for care, stuck on Medicaid waiver waitlists that stretch over a decade long. It’s not just a funding oversight; it’s a deliberate choice, one that says loud and clear what the state prioritizes. Parks are scenic, profitable, and popular; people with disabilities are none of those things, and it shows in the budget.
A Billion-Dollar Distraction: The Inordinate Focus on Parks
The $1 billion set aside for parks is a massive windfall for Texas’s natural recreation areas. It will expand current parks, fund the creation of new ones, and help conserve historical sites. The Sporting Goods Sales Tax (SGST), a dedicated revenue stream, ensures that the state has a pot of money specifically earmarked for such projects. On paper, it sounds great — a rare example of a government program that’s well-funded and proactive.
But this is a state that still has more than 156,000 individuals waiting for crucial services through Medicaid waiver programs. These waivers, designed to help individuals with IDD live at home and avoid institutionalization, are as backed up as a traffic jam on I-35. Some people have been on the waitlist for as long as 16 years — longer than most state parks have even existed.
While the SGST ensures that parks will flourish, the funding for IDD services is cobbled together through a combination of state and federal Medicaid money. It’s an entirely different — and far less glamorous — budget conversation. While parks expansion has the potential to boost tourism and generate revenue, services for people with disabilities offer none of those economic boons. Instead, they offer something far less quantifiable: dignity and survival for thousands of people who have no other options.
Neglecting the Vulnerable: The State’s Token Funding for IDD Services
Texas’s budget for IDD services is nothing short of an insult. The state allocated $75 million in the 2023–2024 budget for IDD services, a figure that’s laughably small in comparison to the need. The average wait time for IDD services in Texas is 16 years, with some families waiting as long as 19 years for help. That’s not a misprint: nearly two decades of waiting for support that can mean the difference between life at home and institutionalization.
For these families, the $75 million is a drop in the bucket, offering little hope of clearing the immense backlog of waiver applicants. The reality is that thousands of people are languishing on waitlists, stuck in limbo as they await basic services. Meanwhile, $1 billion is being spent on making sure Texans can enjoy a hike or a kayak ride on their weekends.
The truth is stark: In Texas, it’s easier to secure funding for trees and trails than it is to ensure that individuals with disabilities can live with dignity. This isn’t just an oversight in the budget; it’s a statement of values. And those values suggest that, in Texas, the needs of vulnerable individuals rank far below the desire for more parks.
What $75 Million Buys for IDD vs. $1 Billion for Parks
To put things in perspective, let’s break down what $1 billion could do if it were redirected from parks to IDD services. With $1 billion, Texas could vastly expand the number of Medicaid waiver slots available, drastically reducing the years-long waitlists. It could provide a living wage to the state’s Direct Support Professionals (DSPs), who currently earn a paltry average of $10.60 an hour. It could help fund desperately needed respite care services for families who are stretched to the breaking point as they care for their disabled loved ones 24/7.
Instead, the $1 billion is being used to buy a feel-good project for lawmakers, something they can point to in the next election cycle as a win for Texans. The state’s parks are a priority because they’re a visible, tangible investment. People can visit a park and see where their tax dollars went. The same can’t be said for IDD services. They’re hidden away, affecting a population that doesn’t have the luxury of public visibility or political clout.
Meanwhile, $75 million for IDD services doesn’t even begin to cover the gaps in care. The state’s budget for IDD services is barely enough to maintain the status quo, let alone reduce the overwhelming waitlists. This is the grim reality for families in Texas: Parks are expanding, but for those caring for loved ones with disabilities, the future looks as bleak as ever.
The Politics of Parks: Why Nature Wins and IDD Services Lose
So why does Texas spend more on parks than on its most vulnerable citizens? Part of the answer lies in how park funding is structured. The SGST ensures a dedicated and consistent stream of revenue for parks and historical sites. It’s politically neutral and draws bipartisan support because everyone benefits from parks — families, tourists, and businesses alike. Parks are easy to sell because they’re public-facing, aesthetically pleasing, and offer economic opportunities.
Contrast that with IDD services, which rely on a mix of state and federal Medicaid funding. This system is a political landmine, involving complex bureaucracies and requiring constant oversight. It’s easy for lawmakers to ignore or underfund these services because the people affected are often out of sight, out of mind. For most Texans, Medicaid waiver waitlists are an abstract concept. But a new park? That’s something everyone can rally around.
A System Already Failing: The IDD Waitlist Crisis
While lawmakers celebrate the expansion of state parks, Texas’s Medicaid waiver system is crumbling under the weight of its own failures. As of December 2022, the state had 156,000 unduplicated individuals on waitlists for Medicaid waiver programs. These programs are critical for people with IDD, offering them the services they need to live in their communities rather than in institutions.
But these services are out of reach for most. Families apply for Medicaid waivers when their children are young, knowing that it will take years — sometimes decades — before they receive any help. The waitlists are so long that many individuals age out of the services they need before they ever reach the top of the list. This isn’t just a bureaucratic failure; it’s a human tragedy that plays out in real time, year after year, as thousands of Texans with IDD go without the care they need.
The Economic Myth: Why Texas Thinks Parks Are an Economic Boon
One of the arguments used to justify the $1 billion park budget is that parks are good for the economy. They boost tourism, drive local development, and provide recreational spaces that contribute to a higher quality of life. And while all of this is true to some extent, the economic benefits of parks are often overstated. Yes, parks can bring in revenue, but they won’t fix the systemic issues plaguing Texas’s social services infrastructure.
In contrast, investing in IDD services would provide a long-term economic benefit that far outweighs any gains from park tourism. Families would be able to continue working if they had access to respite care. Healthcare costs would decrease as fewer people with IDD end up in emergency rooms or long-term care facilities due to lack of support. And the state’s Direct Support Professional workforce, which currently faces high turnover due to low wages, would stabilize, providing more consistent and reliable care for those in need.
But this kind of investment doesn’t come with the immediate, visible returns that parks do. It’s not something lawmakers can point to on a map or tout in campaign ads. It’s the quiet, behind-the-scenes work of taking care of the state’s most vulnerable citizens, and in Texas, that kind of work simply doesn’t get funded.
The Real Human Cost: Stories from the IDD Community
For the families caught in Texas’s Medicaid waiver nightmare, every day is a battle against a system that has forgotten them. Take the story of Juanita, a mother in Austin whose son, diagnosed with severe autism, has been on the waitlist for services for nearly 14 years. Juanita’s son is now 22, and without support, she’s been forced to quit her job to provide around-the-clock care. Her family is barely scraping by, and the emotional toll is unbearable. But for the state of Texas, Juanita and her son are just numbers on a spreadsheet.
There’s also the case of Michael, a 34-year-old man with Down syndrome who’s been waiting for services since he was a teenager. His parents, now in their 60s, are exhausted. They’ve spent years advocating, filling out paperwork, and navigating the labyrinthine Medicaid system, only to be met with endless delays and excuses. As Michael ages, the likelihood that he’ll ever receive the services he needs dwindles, leaving his parents to wonder what will happen when they’re no longer able to care for him.
These aren’t isolated incidents — they’re emblematic of the broader crisis facing the IDD community in Texas. For these families, the state’s decision to prioritize parks over people isn’t just frustrating; it’s a betrayal.
Workforce Crisis: The Consequences of Underpaying Care Workers
The lack of funding for IDD services has created a workforce crisis that is spiraling out of control. Direct Support Professionals (DSPs) are the backbone of care for individuals with IDD, yet they’re paid less than most fast-food workers. The average DSP in Texas makes $10.60 an hour, a wage so low that many are forced to take on second jobs just to make ends meet. It’s no wonder, then, that turnover in this field is astronomical.
Without adequate pay, it’s impossible to retain skilled and compassionate care workers. As a result, people with IDD are often left with inconsistent or substandard care. High turnover also means that families must constantly train new caregivers, adding to their already overwhelming burden.
By refusing to invest in the DSP workforce, Texas is ensuring that the quality of care for people with IDD remains abysmal. This is the direct result of underfunding — a problem that $1 billion could have gone a long way toward solving.
Misaligned Priorities: Parks Get Visibility, IDD Services Remain Invisible
The disparity between park funding and IDD services comes down to one thing: visibility. Parks are tangible, photogenic, and popular. IDD services, on the other hand, are invisible to most people. They exist in the private homes of struggling families, behind the walls of institutions, and in the paperwork of Medicaid offices.
It’s easier for lawmakers to justify a massive investment in parks because the benefits are obvious. People use parks. They see the trails, the trees, the lakes. They can point to a park and say, “This is where our tax dollars went.” But with IDD services, the benefits are harder to see. They’re hidden behind layers of bureaucracy, and the people who rely on them aren’t in a position to advocate for themselves.
Moral Failure: What This Says About Texas’s Values
The $1 billion park budget and the paltry $75 million for IDD services speak volumes about Texas’s values. The state has chosen to prioritize recreation over the basic needs of its most vulnerable citizens. It’s a moral failure on an epic scale, one that reflects a deep-seated indifference to the lives of people with disabilities.
The contrast between these two budget items raises serious questions about equity and justice in Texas. By spending more on parks than on services for people with disabilities, the state is effectively saying that some lives matter more than others. It’s a stark reminder that, in Texas, those who can’t advocate for themselves are left to fall through the cracks.
What Needs to Change: Real Solutions for the IDD Funding Crisis
The solutions to Texas’s IDD funding crisis are not difficult to identify — they’re just difficult to enact because they require a shift in priorities. First, Texas needs to significantly increase its investment in Medicaid waiver programs. The $75 million currently allocated is nowhere near enough to meet the needs of the 156,000 people on the waitlist.
Second, the state must address the DSP wage crisis. Raising wages for care workers would not only improve the quality of care for individuals with IDD, but it would also help stabilize the workforce and reduce turnover. A living wage for DSPs would go a long way toward ensuring that people with IDD receive consistent, compassionate care.
Finally, Texas must confront its legislative and moral failures head-on. Lawmakers need to acknowledge that parks, while valuable, cannot come at the expense of human lives. It’s time for a balanced budget that reflects the state’s commitment to all of its citizens, not just the ones who enjoy a hike in the park.
A State That Prioritizes Parks Over People
Texas’s decision to allocate $1 billion to state parks while only budgeting $75 million for IDD services is more than just a budgetary oversight — it’s a reflection of the state’s values. It’s a statement that parks and recreation are more important than the dignity and well-being of individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities.
As long as this disparity exists, families like Juanita’s and Michael’s will continue to struggle in silence, while politicians pat themselves on the back for expanding Texas’s parks. Until Texas decides to prioritize its most vulnerable citizens, the waitlists will grow, the workforce will collapse, and the state will remain a place where it’s easier to build a park than to care for a person.
View our citations and sources in our research document here.
