School fundraisers

So far this year we've been asked to help our kindergarten children with no fewer than 4 fundraisers. Is this the state of educational affairs, that in addition to academic pressure our kids must also compete by selling? Princess came home today totally excited about the latest one which is 2 fundraisers in one, cookie dough and those discount cards you can use with local merchants. We've also had Scholastic hit us up a couple of times and a t-shirt sale. But this time they've brought in the sneaky people who offer the kids rewards all the way from some sort of sticky lizard thing up to a $75 Target gift card. As a high school student my experience only got worse: dreams of sound systems, sports equipment, science toys, etc all proudly displayed and crowed over by a salesperson who was allowed to come in and talk it all up with toothy grins, business suits, and pressure, pressure, pressure.

So Princess came home today and I remembered that feeling, remembered the pressure, the cajoling, the prizes for power selling and competing with peers. I remembered the worthy causes that these fund raisers all supported, the worthy causes that big, bad government wouldn't fund because of their backward priorities and therefore it was up to us to support these worthy causes by being missionaries, crusaders, champions of justice and right. You would be remembered as the power seller who lifted and redeemed these programs that had been left to atrophy by callous administrators who were also the saints with the genius and condescension to allow these sales to take place. The teacher would retreat into the background for the duration of the sales pitch, remain quiet for a short time afterward to let it all soak in as it would, nervously clear his or her throat and then resume business as usual. Unless it was a sports coach or music teacher, in which case you'd get more of a pitch from the truly needy instructor who, due to a very real lack of funding, would plead for help with the budget so equipment and sheet music wouldn't have to come out of teacher or parent pockets.

But who do you sell to? Princess' packet says in several places that you should never sell door to door for safety reasons. I'm not about to ask Man to take one to work to leave on the table where everyone can see it and have the opportunity to purchase. Why? Because he feels about it much as I do. I could try parents at the park like the other determined and earnest people who run home businesses (though they're always so very nice about it, really). The parents I know all have kids making the same sales pitches and spending from their own pockets as well so the little darlings won't go without a sticky lizard. I could run an ad in the paper, post fliers at super markets, risk posting privileges on Craig's list by advertising there. Who are these people kidding? Who could we possibly sell to?

This latest fund raiser is all the more infuriating because, as mentioned, there are two things for sale: cookie dough and discount cards. Three pounds of dough is a cool $14 and the cards are $10. Gone are the days when you could get away with spending a couple of bucks just to make the kids feel better. Now it's either hero or hoser. If you're a hoser, you are responsible for the bitter disappointment Jr. will feel when he faces his teacher empty handed and won't receive his sticky lizard or the adulation of his peers.

I wonder if I could waiver my kids out of these sales pitches like Sex Ed. I can keep them from being exposed to bipartisan propaganda in the form of sexual education so I should be able to keep my child from being exposed to cruel, pointless, unsolicited sales pitches.

Obviously these fund raisers bother me. Perhaps I'm recalling them as an angst-ridden teenager who didn't fit in but would if only I could sell. Perhaps we got these around mid-terms when other concerns were burdensome enough without yet another straw added to the pile. Maybe it was the look on my parents' faces, the one that said "we don't even have enough money for a decent Christmas... how can we afford this overpriced nonsense?"

I could go on as I'm sure you've guessed. But I'll tell you what I'll do. My daughter will receive the empowerment speech and then the matter will be laid to rest.

Ahem. Dear, there is something you must know about fundraising. It's an unfortunate necessity of an overburdened, understaffed, under appreciated institution that is desperate for support it can't otherwise claim from a largely armchair-outcry nation. Feel free to sell if you must and I shall help you in reasonable ways such as transportation, but understand that disappointment is a great possibility since the nature of this endeavor forces you to base your success on the choices of other people. I feel that academic advancement is for more valuable at this stage of your life and urge you to keep your priorities in perspective. I'm proud of who you are and how well you do with the challenges you face. I would not be disappointed if you didn't give this business another thought. Let me know what you decide.

Now let's go play at the park. You're 5 years old, for Pete's sake!