A budget isn't a spreadsheet, it's a mirror

It's been about five days since the Apopka City Council wrapped up its 2025-26 budget workshops, and just two days from its final regular meeting of July. That's enough time to step back and reflect—not just on the presentations, but on what was absent.

And while the Council did maintain the current millage rate of 4.6876, the real story isn't in the decimal points.

To most, a city budget looks like a long spreadsheet. That is particularly true of Apopka's budget document. Numbers. Line items. Expenditures. Revenues.

But a budget isn't just figures. It should be more like a mirror.

More on that later.

Let's start with what's missing. There is no funding for a Public Safety Complex, even though it's been talked about for years and bragged about in State of the City addresses.

Despite Commissioner Nick Nesta's proposal for a resource center, there is no funding or plan for homelessness. Even though grant opportunities exist, community partners are ready to help, and agencies outside of Apopka offer assistance, Apopka budgeted nothing for this emerging crisis.

Despite all the talk of a referendum and a "new day" for our City's most underserved area, not a penny for South Apopka annexation. This is despite Commissioner Alexander Smith calling on the City Council to spend up to $10 million to get South Apopka annexed on more than one occasion.

Are these initiatives just soundbites thrown around at City Council meetings, only to burn out like a late-night campfire? Are they political headlines without a plan? Will they disappear as soon as the election cycle ends?

While the budget workshops provided departmental updates, they didn't offer what Apopka really needs: a cohesive roadmap, a strategy, a big-picture plan that ties together spending, growth, infrastructure, and quality of life.

Instead, we saw slide after slide of individual department needs — no doubt necessary, but rarely within the context of an overall vision.

Camp Wewa is a prime example.

This beloved children's campground continues to drain city funds despite years of promises about its future. Acquired in 2021 for $4.7 million, the former YMCA camp was hailed as a rare opportunity to offer outdoor recreation and retreats. But three years in, Camp Wewa hasn't reached its promised break-even point.

According to Finance Director Blanche Sherman, the City has spent $6.4 million on the camp, including capital improvements and operating costs. Another million dollars is budgeted this year.

During the presentation, Nesta asked the right question:

"What's our plan to make Camp Wewa successful?"

Unfortunately, there was no clear answer beyond references to additional marketing and working with the new economic development director.

The City needs more than additional marketing. It needs a business plan.

If Camp Wewa is going to become a true community asset—and not just a nostalgic pet project—it must be managed with the same fiscal discipline as any other enterprise. Otherwise, it risks becoming a financial sinkhole, draining funds that could be used for parks, roads, or public safety.

And speaking of sinkholes, there's the Golden Gem Reclaimed Water Plant.

Purchased in 2009 for $4.5 million, the site has sat incomplete and non-operational for 16 years. Now, with pressure mounting from the Florida Department of Environmental Protection due to liner failures, the City is proposing a $12.5 million expansion to bring the facility online.

Meanwhile, critical needs across Apopka remain unfunded. Wow, if only we had about $32 million in general fund reserves—oh wait, we do!

That's right, Apopka's $32 million in reserve funds sits untouched. That's about $5 million above the mandated 25% in reserves that the City Council approved a few years back. It's about $15 million (!) above the 16.7% reserve threshold recommended by the Government Finance Officers Association.

It's smart to keep a cushion. But at what point does fiscal prudence turn into a missed opportunity? At some point, guarding millions in reserves starts to feel less like fiscal caution—and more like Smaug, the dragon in The Hobbit, slumbering atop a mountain of gold while the village beneath grows desperate. At what point does it become administrative malpractice?

Let's be honest.

If every need in the City were already funded, having 25% in reserves would be great. But we're not there—we're not even close. We should be investing, not just saving.

Vision isn't risky when it's backed by planning. That's not recklessness; it's leadership.

That means we've got roughly $5 million more than the mandated 25%, and $15 million more than the benchmark for "safe" budgeting (16.7%). Yet we're not funding transformational projects. We're not investing in innovation. We're just...saving. But when a city has urgent needs and no visionary spending, hoarding reserves isn't cautious—it's a missed opportunity.

Look around Central Florida. Winter Park built a $30 million library and events center. Orlando is transforming its downtown with the Creative Village. Sanford is reviving its Riverwalk and downtown. Oviedo has created a centerpiece called Oviedo on the Park. Maitland invested in a library, an art center, and a city center.

Those cities didn't fund these efforts with magic money—they used bonds, partnerships, CRA funds, grants, and yes, general funds. They planned. They took their vision seriously and invested in it.

And other municipalities have made visioning a regular part of their budget process.

Gainesville runs its budget process through the lens of a long-term strategy called "Gainesville 2035." Departments are required to tie their budget requests to measurable goals. They have an internal team focused on strategy, planning, and innovation. They track progress publicly using a platform called Envisio, so residents can see where the City is succeeding—and where it needs work.

Orange County took a similar approach with its Vision 2050 plan. They embedded a 25-year strategy into their development codes, infrastructure plans, and most importantly, their budget. This year's $7.2 billion county budget includes direct allocations tied to Vision 2050 priorities—affordable housing, transportation, environmental sustainability, and more.

They're not just talking about the future. They're funding it.

Apopka already has a strategic plan—Apopka 2025—but it's sitting on a shelf while they write the budget. It's time to dust it off, revisit it, and build a real process around it.

If Gainesville can do it, if Orange County can do it, Apopka can, too. We just have to want it, plan it, and fund it.

Because this isn't just about dollars and cents, it's about who we are as a city—and who we hope to be. If the final version of this budget looks the same as the current draft, we'll be sending a message that we're okay with the status quo, that "good enough" is good enough, and that $5-15 million is better off sitting in a local bank than building something bold.

But Apopka deserves better than that.

A city budget isn't just a spreadsheet. It's a mirror. It's a reflection. It's a window to the soul of what we value, who we serve, and where we're going.

Right now, the image looking back at us is cloudy, cautious, and uninspired. Let's hope that, by September, we will choose to see clearly and boldly into Apopka's future.