In This State House Race, They're Attacking a Teacher
The local Democrats are claiming Casey Noce isn't a real teacher because he teaches at a private school
The home stretch of Michigan’s midterm elections is here, and campaigns are getting nasty.
One such battle is the race for Michigan’s 22nd House District, an open seat covering parts of Northville, Plymouth and Livonia. Northville school board treasurer Lisa McIntyre, a Democrat, faces Republican Casey Noce, a Northville resident.
In full disclosure, I’ve endorsed Noce after long discussions about his conservative worldview and personal beliefs. I favor his politics over McIntyre’s more progressive ones, but if you read this far expecting an attack piece on her, you’re going to be disappointed. I haven’t met Ms. McIntyre, but people I take seriously have, and they say nice things about her. Fair enough.
My issue with this race runs deeper. It’s less about the candidates than the narratives spreading within it — specifically, what it means to be a teacher.
Noce has taught at Northville Christian School for five years and has worked there for eight. He originally commuted from Adrian, then moved to Livonia, and now lives in Northville. Yet the Livonia Democratic Club, in an email newsletter, has questioned whether Noce is a legitimate teacher, and that criticism has since spread on social media.
As far as I can tell, none of this criticism—attacks, in campaign parlance—has come from McIntyre. That suggests she’s smart enough to know what kind of hornet’s nest it could stir up, and I’ll tell you why.
Northville Christian is one of several private schools where Livonia, Northville and Plymouth parents send their kids. Those parents include teachers, administrators and school board members—the very voters McIntyre and Noce want to represent. That’s especially true in Livonia, and in larger numbers than people realize.
In attacking Noce’s teaching credentials, his critics are leaning into a tired old trope: hostility toward private and religious schools as unwelcome competition for public ones.
The irony—and in hyper-partisan politics, there always is one—is that Noce isn’t an enemy of public education. He sought the MEA’s endorsement, lobbied for it in person, and has voiced his support for public education broadly.
Knowing the odds of a Republican winning the MEA’s endorsement are about the same as stumbling upon a unicorn, he still pushed for reforms to teacher certification and accountability. As anyone not living under a rock knows, that’s the kiss of death with the teachers union.
But this isn’t the 1990s, when public support for public schools was broader and more unified. It’s 2026, six years after Covid, and alternatives to traditional public schools have grown popular, even among many Democrats.
That makes the attack on Noce’s credibility as a teacher feel like a relic. It seems aimed at Livonia voters whose children left public schools three decades ago and who are out of touch with the current moment.
Noce, for his part, seemed unfazed—even amused. “I must be a threat,” he said.
Knowing the source and the generational warfare at play, I can’t say I’m surprised. We’re talking about Livonia, after all—a city where a third of the residents are mentally stuck in 1982.
Must have been a slow day at the typewriter, with no pancake breakfasts to report on, babe.
