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My fifth grader brought home the annual, first-day-of-school PTA fundraising packet. I knew it was coming. He was surprisingly jazzed about it. He gushed, “Mom, if I sell 200 items, I win an iPod Touch! Can I? Please?”
In repsonse, I emitted a blood-curdling scream, and then my head exploded all over the kitchen.
I kid. But that’s kinda how I felt. I truly, TRULY loathe the whole school fundraising thing. I understand that the school needs the funds for special things their operating budget doesn’t cover, but I recoil at the thought of sending wee children (kindergarteners!) to the neighbors’ doors, clutching their catalogues full of mostly-useless crap and candy and stuff that everyone knows that no one really wants to buy, and putting the adults in the position of having to say “no, thanks” to a wide-eyed child, risking cumulative damage to their fragile, developing self-esteem.
Equally offensive is the maneuver where Mom or Dad plunk the catalogue next to the coffee machine in their office breakroom. Last year, I was at an office where two different employees put out Girl Scout Cookie orders at the same time. What’s the protocol? Should you buy from both? The same amount? When it’s just easier to buy from one? And is it really fair to the kid to “earn” a prize when it was really their parents’ effort? Seriously - what does that teach the kid about effort and reward?
The thing is, I don’t think the kids make the connection between the stuff they sell, and the good things their school can earn as a result of their effort. You can’t expect a third grader to say, I sold two hundred dollars worth of peanut brittle, and now look at the nice white board in my classroom! Because let’s face it - all they do is rip into their envelope, fish out the glossy prize flyer, and see what “cool stuff” they can earn. Look, Ma - a puzzle book for selling just 4-8 items, or a battery-powered “swirly mug” if I sell 15-24 items! And not only that, but if I reach prize level E, I get the prizes from levels A, B, C and D! (Sounds like the Cat in the Hat book.) THAT’S their reward, not the extra books in the library or the new playground equipment.
So, the children return home, hop off the bus with ALL THE OTHER KIDS IN THE ‘HOOD, CLUTCHING THE SAME ENVELOPE, and….. what? Race to all the empty-nesters’ homes, hoping to be the first kid to hit ‘em up? All because they want those stupid prizes that are broken within 24 hours of entering the house.
Meanwhile, the grown-ups are made to feel obligated to buy stuff they wouldn’t otherwise buy, because what kind of asshat doesn’t want to support the neighborhood elementary school? I mean, probably you can use some wrapping paper and gift bags, because really, who couldn’t. But let’s browse this year’s catalogue to see what other must-have items there are: Mmmmm, a tin of dried apricots, anyone? Or maybe a “gift set” of three flavors of pancake mix? How about a scented, holiday-themed votive candle, or a sassy fuschia lunch tote? No, thanks. If you’re going to write a check for $38.40 (plus tax, don’t forget to collect the sales tax, kiddies - take 6% of the total and see there how you’re learning math?), wouldn’t you rather all of it go to benefit the school, rather than only half of it? That’s the really valuable math lesson in this whole exercise.
Fortunately, that’s exactly what my older son’s middle school is doing this year. They sent home a flyer saying - and I’m paraphrasing here - how about we cut the charade and stop selling useless crap to each other, and let’s just all make a donation. It’s all tax deductible, it’s easy, it’s quick, it isn’t messy, and it won’t make you fat or cause tooth decay - just write a simple check. Period. Done. See how easy that is?
I have always hated fundraising, and as I was active in lots of activities during my school years, I was always selling something. I grew up in the country, and my patient mother would haul me around to hit up the neighbors and relatives. And I had a LOT of relatives. I’m sure they were all, HIDE, HONEY - here comes Meg AGAIN selling doughnuts / fruitcake (yes, the band sold fruitcake) / T-shirts / raffle tickets / hoagies! (Although I must say,
