A baking class for Education Savings Account kids is about to begin on a Monday afternoon in Old Town Buckeye.
Before the students arrive, Kylee Ruark is in motion — prepping dough, laying out ingredients, and setting up the children’s workstations. There’s a slight sense of panic as she tries to get everything just right before they walk in. Her husband, Jonathan, steps in to help. The pressure, and their practiced teamwork, help them finish just in time.
But it’s on “Buckeye time,” someone jokes — so no one minds.
Relief sets in for the Ruarks as they start seeing familiar faces. They are clients, but some are longtime friends; others are new to the circle. Each day feels a little different, a little unpredictable, and for the couple, that’s part of what makes it meaningful.
They’re making a living while teaching valuable skills.
Buckeye-based Dough Bros says Arizona’s controversial ESA program has not only supported their choices but also changed their lives. And they believe it’s changing lives for others, too.
One mother who attends the baking classes shares a similar story. For her family, ESA program has opened personalized education options and provided critical support for children with special needs.
An American dream for some
When Dough Bros began, the Ruarks were just sharing their love of baking. It started with Facebook Live videos and grew into shipping sourdough starter kits around the world. Eventually, that turned into hands-on classes — first virtual, then in person.
“This has been the best part of our business,” Jonathan said. “It has really transitioned into this whole community.”
For Kylee, the ESA program is as much about economic freedom as it is about educational choice.
The Ruarks identify as neurodivergent, and so do their children. From their own experiences, they saw how conventional education systems often failed to accommodate different learning needs. That’s part of what inspired them to design something more flexible and responsive.
What began as sourdough lessons has evolved into a thriving educational venture tailored to neurodivergent learners and their families.
“ESA has become half of our business,” Kylee said.
Their classes offer a more personalized, patient environment — one that’s attuned to kids who might struggle in traditional classroom settings.
Jonathan is also watching how technology is changing the landscape. He believes new tools like artificial intelligence could be game-changers in education — and he sees ESA as a critical piece in helping families adapt as public models evolve or even become obsolete.
A couple of good eggs
For Buckeye mom Lindsay Meredith, Arizona’s ESA program has been a lifeline.
Through the program, she’s been able to customize her children’s education in ways that public schools couldn’t offer, despite looming proposed legislative cuts and red tape, especially when it came to addressing their special needs.
Her son with dyslexia got a certified Barton tutor and finished his first chapter of a book.
ESA also paid for hands-on cooking classes, where her son learned to take volumetric measurements and use kitchen equipment, she said.
Her older son began thriving, too. Passionate about cars, he enrolled in automotive classes, which weren't available in public schools.
“He inherited a truck from a family member,” Meredith said. “Now he drives it to work, maintaining it himself.”
The ESA program has faced backlash, especially over reports of misuse. Merideth claims those were just a few rotten eggs in the dough.
“What we agreed to when we signed up for it is that we have to reconcile our accounts," she said. "We have to turn in receipts for everything that we buy, and we have to provide curriculum for what we buy."
Accountability is strict — receipts, curricula and reconciliations ensure every dollar supports learning, according to Meredith. However, she worries that proposed caps and restrictions could harm families who rely on the program.
Despite that, she says it opened doors public schools never did. Her boys explored gardening, hatched chicks in an incubator, joined 4H, and dug deep into interests schools only skimmed.
"There are plenty of autistic children, and ESA provides the ability for these kids to have those special needs met instead of waiting a whole year or months even to get that accommodation met in a public school," she said.
ESA and its controversy explained
Arizona’s Education Savings Account program — once a niche initiative for students with disabilities — has ballooned into an $800 million system serving more than 70,000 students statewide. Supporters call it a breakthrough in school choice because of...
- Direct funding to families. The ESA program provides taxpayer-funded scholarships — roughly $7,000 per student — directly to families from state tax revenues redirected from public K-12 education spending.
- Universal eligibility. After a 2022 expansion, all Arizona students are now eligible, making it the most accessible school-choice program in the nation.
- Customized education. ESAs empower parents to tailor their child’s education, especially students who struggle in traditional settings.
- Flexibility. Unlike traditional vouchers limited to tuition, ESA funds can be used for a wide range of educational expenses, including online courses, special-needs therapy and homeschool materials, giving families unprecedented control.
Critics call it an unregulated mess because of...
- Ongoing investigation. Arizona’s attorney general is investigating whether ESA funds were illegally spent on luxury items or services unrelated to education. State auditors found instances of parents attempting to use funds for TVs, yoga classes and ski trips.
- Lack of oversight. Parents aren’t required to demonstrate academic progress. Purchases are self-directed, and the Arizona Department of Education has struggled to track and enforce appropriate spending.
- Public school impact. The program’s explosive growth has siphoned money from public schools. Many ESA recipients were never enrolled in public schools to begin with, raising equity concerns.
- Proposed protections. A Republican-backed effort would lock ESA funding into the state constitution via Proposition 123 — a move opponents say could shield the program from future reforms and limit public school funding flexibility. At publication time, the proposition was holding up the entire state budget in the legislature.
