A critique of The Post Independent's Class of 2026 editorial, highlighting the gap between celebratory rhetoric and the economic challenges of lower wages and high housing costs for graduates who stay in Garfield County.

What happens to the kids who stay?
That’s the real question hiding behind the confetti and the cap-and-gown photos. The editorial in The Post Independent celebrates the Class of 2026. It lists the schools. It mentions the pride. It offers the usual platitudes about purpose and humility. But it glosses over the economic reality of Garfield County.
The piece congratulates graduates from Colorado Mountain College, Coal Ridge, Grand Valley, Rifle, Roaring Fork, Glenwood Springs, Bridges, Yampah, Basalt, and Colorado Rocky Mountain School. That’s a lot of diplomas. That’s a lot of young people looking for a place to land.
Some will leave. The editorial admits this. They’ll head to universities, likely out of state or to the major hubs. They’ll take their skills with them. That’s fine. That’s how it’s always been.
But some will stay.
The text says, "Some will stay closer to home and begin work." It treats this as a neutral option. A valid path. It doesn’t mention that for many, staying means accepting lower wages than their counterparts in Denver or Boulder. It doesn’t mention the housing crunch that makes "starting work" difficult if you don’t have a family to lean on for a down payment.
The editorial board notes that Garfield County is made up of people who "coach, teach, volunteer, build, serve, repair." It paints a picture of a tight-knit community. A nice picture. But it’s a static picture. It doesn’t capture the tension between the service workers who keep the valley running and the influx of remote workers who drive up the cost of living.
The graduates are told to "keep moving with purpose, humility and curiosity." That’s good advice. It’s also vague. It doesn’t tell you how to navigate a job market that is increasingly competitive. It doesn’t tell you how to afford a house in Rifle or Basalt on a starting salary.
The piece emphasizes that no one gets to graduation alone. It names teachers, coaches, classmates, family. It’s a nice sentiment. It’s also a reminder of the social capital required to succeed here. If your parents didn’t coach your little league team or volunteer at the high school, you might be starting further back than the editorial lets on.
The editorial board is "excited to see what the future holds." That’s a polite way of saying they don’t know yet. They’re betting on the graduates. They’re betting that the "small towns moving" will continue to move, even as the population shifts and the economy fluctuates.
The short version: The Class of 2026 has a diploma. They have a community behind them. They have a valley that needs them. But they also have a cost of living that is rising and a wage structure that isn’t always keeping pace.
The editorial stops at "Congratulations." It doesn’t ask what comes next. It doesn’t ask how many of these graduates will actually stay in Garfield County five years from now. It doesn’t ask if the "value of showing up" is enough to pay the rent.
That’s the gap. The press release is full of pride. The reality is full of logistics.
Read that again. The board says success doesn’t look the same for everyone. That’s true. But it also means some people will succeed by leaving, and some will succeed by staying. The editorial treats these as equal choices. They aren’t. The path of least resistance is often out. The path of least resistance for those who stay is harder.
The graduates are told to ask questions. They should ask themselves who is paying the bills. They should ask who is building the houses. They should ask who is fixing the roads.
The editorial board wishes them the best. It’s a nice sentiment. It’s also a lot of pressure to put on a bunch of eighteen-year-olds who are just trying to figure out if they can afford a car.
Garfield County is proud of you. That’s what the paper says. But pride doesn’t pay the mortgage.





