A Fine Line

Here’s some stuff to practice with your kindergarten children to get them ready for the “big school”. Start now and maybe the transition will be easier for everyone. First of all, tell them not to worry about where they are supposed to line up on the first day. We'll find them. Believe me, we need every body for our 3^rd Friday student count upon which all federal funding depends. Have your child bring all supplies on the first day. That way, there will be no worries about what you need to send and if the teacher is going to remind your little sweetie yet again that the 20 sharpened pencils were due on day 1. Be sure a name is on everything that it's supposed to be on, like P.E. shoes.

Speaking of names, be sure your child knows his real name and how to say the first and last. The office list that teachers get has your child’s legal name so if you’ve called Jennifer, “Neffy” for her whole life, she may not know we’ve been yelling at her for the last three minutes. Knowing how to spell it would be helpful too, even if the writing part isn’t quite right. Teachers will thank you.

Oh, and self-dressing. It's a pain for teachers to have to tie shoes, button buttons, zip zippers, push on boots, pull on mittens and buckle snowpants. I figured it out once and with a class of 20, there are about 200 things children would have you do before they went out, if you let them get away with it. That's a lot to ask of a teacher. Imagine yourself at work. It’s the end of the day. Everyone lines up at the door but they are just standing there, looking down at open jacket zippers and Allen Edmond laces. You tell them to hurry up because you have a cocktail party to go to. You then realize that it’s on you to prepare them for the endlessly disappointing Wisconsin weather, so you start with the first in line and twenty minutes later bid the last a fond farewell. Every day.

The desire for girls to wear beautiful necklaces, hair adornments, bracelets and rings is understandable. We get it. However, they function as accessories only for a few minutes. Then they morph and become toys, lost, broken, fought over, tangled or taken away desk drawer items.

Children are often afraid of the lunch room. It’s big and noisy and full of unmet people. Here are some ideas you can give your child to use in potentially sticky situations. If some other kid asks for their dessert, tell them to say, “Sure, but I just sneezed on it.”  If a bathroom stop is necessary but the supervisors say no, tell your child to start jumping up and down with hands together down and in front of them as though they were trying to stop what is soon to happen. Repeating, "I really gotta go!" over and over will add the extra urgency to break through even the most veteran school personnell. We've all learned what happens when you insist a child can wait.

 Send a bag lunch for the first couple weeks. It’s much easier. Child goes in, sits down, eats, tosses the trash and leaves. That way they’ll have time to watch what to do when they eat hot lunch around October when you get sick of packing healthy good impression food lunches.

The bathrooms are crazy places. They are generally not in the direct purview of adults so can become a bit intimidating to the little ones. A trick older kids like to pull is to go in the stall, lock the door and then crawl under the door so when other kids come in they just stand there. It’s a hoot, apparently. Teach your child how to check for feet, and then if the situation is dire, how to crawl under the door and unlock it. Then tell ‘em to be sure to wash their hands and tell their friends to do the same. Thanks for that.

Washing hands. Children love the soap dispenser and love playing with the bubbly froth they can work up with half a cup of liquid gold on them. This extends the amount of time they spend in the bathroom quite considerably and may easily end with a teacher’s head breaking through the calm of the moment yelling something about looking for you for the last fifteen minutes. Oh, and if they ask to go to the bathroom when they don’t need to, teachers eventually recommend that parents have your bladder checked, so just go when necessary. Teachers know all the ways kids try to get out of doing work.

Hopefully, this first installment of advice won’t just make things worse. I also know enough to fully understand the Whackamo game land in which precocious children live. The time it took you to read this blog may actually have made the information in it obsolete.

I tried.

Is that the new Shorewood brand? You hear about McCain’s brand, Obama’s brand, Paris Hilton’s brand, and hundreds of others. It’s the new in word for style I guess, and it has become a well worn noun on cable news. When I was considering moving here in 1989, Shorewood intoxicated me, tossing back her hair of peace, quiet and quaintness. She wore a small town calm and most importantly, was just out of reach of the big scary city. The brand included excellent schools, high quality arts programs, lousy football teams, excellent swim programs, a great dump and a village that treated residents like they were special.

What I didn't realize then, was that each elementary school in Shorewood had its own brand. Lake Bluff was the sort of liberal, easy going, friendly, progressive, casual yet very successful school. Atwater had a get down to business brand, the more conservative school, a little stiffer, test aware, score conscious and very successful, as well. When I visited each school shopping for my daughter’s future, I felt the difference. One school sent me on a tour with a staff member who emphasized high test scores, escorted me around the building, answered questions along the way and introduced me to the principal who was sitting on the far side of his very wide, important desk. The other gave me the option of just walking around, looking where I wanted, and asking questions as they came up of anyone who was near. There was no mention of where students cruised in the “drive-to-test-score distinction“.

The Shorewood school siblings have been undeniably affected by politics. Leaving no child behind has made its mark, like when you push really hard on your skin with a pencil. There is an undercurrent working now, to pull process under product. It is influencing the way teachers teach, what they teach, and how much time is spent teaching it. As it is now, there are two things taught in the morning in elementary schools. Language Arts and Math. The emphasis has had to be on keeping these scores high, raising reading levels and performing math efficiently on timed and standardized tests. Even with children at 96%, we neurotically wonder, “Hmmm…What can we do about that last 4%? “

There aren’t many differences between the schools now.Teachers with any crazy ideas about doing things differently should think twice after they see where compulsory education is heading.  But time will go by and everything old will become new again. Documentation and data collection that keeps creativity down now, will someday be dismissed as overkill and classrooms will again be places of wonder, like they were when they began, kept constantly bedazzling by teachers wearing John Dewey T-shirts.

Shorewood has now, a weird dilemma. There are those all the way up the chain who do believe our teaching methods and assessments can be flexible. There are best practice groupies-- following trends, research findings, scholarly works and looking for gaps. "Differentiation" is hot now. It could also be called good teaching. It requires us to see kids as individuals, determine how they learn and help them reflect that learning most effectively. Teaching to individuals assumes we will meet them where they are academically and move them forward as much as is possible and natural, without freaking out because they are not where they are "supposed" to be. They would still have to be tested old style like everyone else. If in the end students are placed in AP classes, put in “accelerated learner” programs, declared at risk or determined to be in need of support by specialists, it may be smarter and of more service to focus on successful test taking. The brand now?  It is still one that includes quality arts and academic programs, the swim team remains strong and scores are high. Our brand now is a bit up in the air, floating between the past and the future. From the inside, it looks like there will have to be some redefinition in order to fit the big feet of yesterday into the little slippers of today’s budget. You’ll be able to watch it happen. When your children start talking more about tests than about school, you’ll know it's done.

I had a dream last night that I got to my classroom, opened the door and prepared to set things up for the new year. The carpets were clean, countertops shining and all the furniture stacked in the middle of the room awaiting my designer’s touch. This year, maybe I would put the reading table where the loft is over in the corner. I eyed the space and thought it would work perfectly; a corner spot with protection behind me, panoramic view ahead. The children would have their backs to the rest of the class so they could focus solely on whatever gems were coming out of my mouth that morning.

Something seemed weird, though, and it took me a minute to figure it out. The purple painted wooden loft that children loved to play under and on was gone! The second loft was gone, as well. All the beautiful wooden furniture that I’d dragged in to make the classroom more appealing, comfortable and home-like, had been removed. My grandmother’s old dresser with the smooth finish and heavy drawers was gone; my mother’s wooden kitchen set, the overstuffed chairs the kids love to read in and all the cozy couches had been dragged out by the look of the floor. The walls too were bare. Gone were the E-Bayed fabrics from all around the world, the Japanese obi, the African mud cloth and Mexican weavings. I was upset, although the pain was eased a bit by eating ice cream with the “young Elvis” impersonator who appeared on “America’s Got Talent”, a show I admit to watching because there were no documentaries on. Then, as many children’s stories end…I woke up and realized it was all a dream.

While this dream was no doubt spawned by a pastiche of home improvement websites, reality TV, cleaning cabinets out in the classroom that day and planning next spring’s rummage sale, there was a basis in truth for it. We did have a fire inspection during this past school year. Things didn't go well for me. Let's just say my classroom has made it onto a power point presentation. We have been told that in order to abide by fire safety codes we have to get rid of all soft items in the classroom. That would mean couches, pillows, chairs, stuffed animals, curtains, and wall hangings, although nothing was said about the hundreds of pounds of paper stacked in every room and on every shelf. The inspector advised that it would be good for kids to sit on the hard chairs anyway, like he did when he was in school. It would keep them awake. Character built from the butt up, I guess. It was also stated that in most classrooms only 20% of wall surfaces could have paper of any kind on them. That leaves a lot of purple, green and yellow tinted paint showing. Not showing so much would be posters, kids’ work, paintings, drawings, stories and any other thumb tackable items put up to inform or inspire. Children will have to sit on hard, school issued chairs and look at pictures of George Washington, the alphabet strip, and the fire drill route poster. Don't be surprised if things look a little different next year. Oh, one more thing he told us. Absolutely nothing could be hanging from the ceiling. The ceiling patterned with shiny steel water sprinklers, installed at extra cost, so the room would be completely and immediately soaked…

in case of fire.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about words and how the use of them can be rather chess game-ish. If you know what you want and how to best say it to the people you want to hear you, points can be made and taken by your target audience. For example, the report card comments I wrote about last time. You can say what you want, transfer the information but avoid the drama some wording incites. If one can word report cards, work reviews, recommendations to make the sale of their ideas, I figured the same skills might work in the area of real estate, which as you know is going through quite the unnatural disaster.

With home sales being what they are I started thinking about how I could advertise my extremely modest (cheapest house in Shorewood) house to potential buyers. Just as in writing report cards, one must think of target audiences. I think for this particular home, that just might be the green people. Here’s how to make a recycled silk purse out of a Styrofoam pig’s ear.

The first thing one notices when approaching my front door is that there is no doorbell. There wasn’t one in 1989 when I bought the place, either. I just never got around to doing the wiring. Although it doesn’t send the friendliest of greetings, this could be added to the list of ways my green home saves electricity. There is also no backyard lighting, no dishwasher, garbage disposal or garage door opener. Well, there’s no garage either. The security lighting is in the eyes of my dogs who would be all too willing to give an intruder a very hard time. Washing dishes can be very calming and will be offered as a retreat from the fast pace of life. The sink will be described as a “water feature”, moistening the chi as it flows out the back door. The garbage disposal could be the old composting box in the backyard. My neighbor left it when she moved. Having no garage means I can’t accumulate much and tend to recycle things when spaces start to fill. This is another big plus.

I’ve always been eco-friendly and have a chemical free lawn. You probably have to pay extra for those these days. I’ve never put weed killer, Milorganite, fertilizer or green spray paint on the grass. Ignoring suburban responsibilities of garden manicuring and grass coaxing has rendered me a truly natural green space. I do have a gas mower, but only mow when the neighbors do so the pollution comes in one big long belch, rather than one every day of the week.

So how do I sell a four room, doorbell missing, garbage disposal lacking, dish washer free, garage-less little runt of a house? Call it green. Why, it’s practically usonium, in the Wright sense of the word. Hey, if you’re in the market for a house next year, keep me in mind. Live here and feel the power of the size 5 carbon footprint. Brag about how little energy you use, how calm you feel and how solicitors never ring your bell even when they see the “No Soliciting” sign right at eye height.

So, if you’re trying to sell your house this summer and it’s lacking some luster, some perks, some pazazz, I suggest you turn it all into attempts to be more green. Tell them you removed all the air conditioning, outdoor lighting, backyard pool and heated sidewalks to show you are a steward of the environment. Who knows?

 Somebody just might buy it.

Okay, so you have your child’s report card. You open the envelope and unfold. The letters or numbers don’t say much, so you go to what you know--the comments. Comments fall into several categories. First there are the generic phrases teachers write when they don‘t really have anything else to say, but do want to mark the end of a year with the child of the parents now reading. These include:

“Have a nice summer.”

“It has been a pleasure having Theodore in my class.”

“Way to go, Theodore!”

“Well done.” and the ever popular

“Good job!”

Then there are the comments that have dual meanings, one for the parent and one for the teacher:

“Betty is full of energy.” This means energy doesn’t quite cover it. It’s not necessarily a bad thing unless it is followed by,” Betty may find a yoga or tai chi class calming. Here is a rec. dept. summer schedule.”

“Tad likes to multi-task.” This means Tad is a gadfly. You took his chair away in October and he never even noticed.

“Rosie is very social. “ The next thought might be, “She talks all day long. I gave her a journal and encouraged her to sit, relax, and record her personal thoughts and feelings without any sounds involved, but she made an origami cell phone out of it instead.”

“I am concerned about Fred’s hearing.” While this sounds caring, the truth is hearing tests are done early in the year and you know Fred’s hearing is fine. He is just incredibly and unbearably loud ALL THE TIME!!!!!!!

Occasionally you hear of teachers who interject revenge comments. This, I am assuming, is cathartic and comes after many months of tongue biting, phone calls, emails, conferences and meetings. Some of these include:

“Buford is challenged daily by the structure of the classroom.”

“Buford starts with the same letter as bully.”

“Buford needs a small country to run.

Overall, if I were to write a report card for report cards it would go as follows.

The strength of the report card is that it is a form of communication among adults about a child whose welfare they all care deeply about. It may open conversations. It may make parents aware of talents or strengths they haven’t seen yet such as those related to work/study or leadership skills. This makes for positive interaction with, or at least positive feelings toward the child and his or her own school experience. The challenge a report card faces is to characterize a human being with a letter or number. Interpretation is subjective therefore flawed; you know, emotions make things so squishy. On the other hand objectivity is hard and unyielding, and the objective giver becomes nothing more than a scorekeeper. I know this report card of a report card would probably get a wide variety of responses depending on how much the reader agreed with me. That is the nature of the things.

So what’s the point? The point is, the final progress report is one of many ways to put together a picture of how your child is “doing”. There are many pieces to this changing puzzle, particularly in early childhood. Don’t take six or seven year olds grade letters or numbers as though they are the final word, final description or final judgment. Time and maturity can work miracles. My final report card comment about progress reports?

“…must try harder to work up to potential."

If there’s one thing Shorewood students have down, it’s how to react in the event of a tornado warning. Yesterday was perhaps the weirdest last day I’ve had here in Shorewood. Everyone was ending the year, the sixth graders were having their ceremonies, people were having their parties, parents were there to say good-bye to that year’s teacher and it all came to a sort of fast, then eerily quiet, to a fool me twice type animation throughout the halls.

Last time, or was it the time before, some of the kids were cooling off under the spray of a hose and came in dripping water onto the linoleum floors the rest of us were already huddled along. When the warning was over, it was dismissal and then it was vaudeville. Bodies were dropping, getting back up and sliding around the corner to the safe footing of a dry hallway.

Normally, at the end of the day you have a chance to say goodbye, hand out report cards, graciously accept gifts and hand made cards, reminisce about the year and give teary hugs as the children leave. This year was different. We were told another big storm was on its way and to get home as soon as possible. Report card names were read, grabbed and ran out the door with their parents or friends. Gifts were stacked up on the desks and proper thanks were not even attempted. Heartfelt words across cards made by children had to go unread until the next day. Quick waves out the door, some exchanges of facial expressions that meant we’ve had a great year and an odd unfinished feeling sat there with my partner teacher and me as we looked at each other and shook our heads.

What we would have liked to have said while all our students and parents were there was thank you. Thank you for your humor, your flexibility, your care, your questions, your encouragement, your willingness to get involved and for your beautiful children.

What we would have liked to have said to the kids is that they are incredible. They truly became a family; it was a family with strength and weakness, tempers and forgiveness, love and caring. It was a family that was better for all of us, and when one of us was not there it just didn’t feel the same. The child moving away did not get a proper goodbye from her friends and I feel badly about that, although it was heartbreaking the day before with another.

I’m sure I can speak for many teachers when I say that the children we have the pleasure of living and working with are proof to us that we may not end up homeless, without Medicare in a world full of adults unable to move anything but their thumbs.

As I come to the end of this year, for some reason I find myself thinking of ways to prank the teachers I am sending my kids to in fall. Harmless ways, like telling them there are 8 continents or 27 letters in the alphabet but the last one is silent. That got me to thinking about all the things we were taught and continue to teach in some places, that are just rong. For example, the sun does not come up in the east. The sun is always up. This kind of oops teaching has long term ramifications. I still remember when I was in my 20s and walking along the lakefront with a friend very, very early in the morning. It was “sunrise” as the first saboteurs called it. “Wow”, she said in her best 70s sigh. “I wonder what that looks like to the people in Michigan.” Okay, point made.

It iis warmer in summer because the Earth is closer to the sun, right? Nah-ah. That is a belief that people gradulate from college with under their mortar board. Maybe the tilt thing is thought to be too complicated to teach, but I figure if kids can play “Wipe Out” on Guitar Master, they can get that the Earth tilts toward the sun through a Shorewood summer.

This leads me onward to the sugar makes kids hyper theory. I know this has been kicked around a lot, but I tend to agree with those studies that conclude that’s a bunch of malarkey. Maybe even malarkey with jimmies. After watching children eat sugar for three decades, I find that the event around the eating of the sugar is far more excitement making than the food additive. I know that fun can be stopped on a dime in the midst of ice-cream and chocolate syrup if say someone starts smearing ice cream on someone else’s face or throwing chocolate chips around the room. Oh, the hyper can be sucked out of a party for sure. Children all supposedly high on sugar have been able to sit and read, process, make their ways to the bathrooms and write touching poetry. I’ve heard that Sylvia Plath was a chocoholic. That sure didn’t perk her up much.

When two vowels go walking the first one doesn’t always do the talking. So aside from how weird it sounds to a six year old that their teacher just looked at them straight faced and told them that letters walk and talk, it’s hard to argue with the wording of a petition filed by the words guess, friend, could, pageant and niece. Right at their heels are the words right, love, have, are, were and house. An e at the end of a word doesn’t necessarily make the tongueless vowel “say its name”, they insist.

I think it might be fun to teach a curriculum based on misconceptions and exceptions to rules. I could dedicate it to my late father from the lone star state who convinced me when I was a kid that Texas…

is a country.

The key to managing larger class sizes is the willingness and ability to let go of your power. I know this is an issue in Shorewood and all over the country. While there is a general gut agreement that lower class sizes must be better, there is this thing called a budget which, when other things have been cut, comes at class size caps like Edward Scissorhands. But before we cut class size, I suppose we could cut other things. Remember though, once things go you don’t often see them return. Kind of like when you dump a boyfriend and insist you can still be friends. You never see him again.

There is a lot of fat we can cut in this community, though. We could cut out the separate buildings for the kindergartens and spread the kindergarten kids throughout the "big schools" where the rest of the kids are.  Each class would get a couple. Children would embrace the newcomers and treat them like siblings, teaching them letters and numbers, counseling them on how to behave. They would feel a bit more compelled to be good role models, because no one wants an undisciplined five year old running around while you’re trying to take a timed math test or reenact the questionable discovery of America. Money would be saved through this method because closing the building would mean no heating bills, no custodial service billing, no more staffing. Now that’s a money saving idea.

Another way we could come at this budget thing would be to cut Spanish classes and instead, make all the teachers teach subject area content in Spanish for half an hour every other day. Let’s say, at 2:30. The whole building would speak in Spanish for that time slot from P.E. to instrumental music lessons even though it’s hard to speak at all when your lips are jammed into a metal mouthpiece trying to perfect that tuba embouchure. Sorry, musicians. Maybe you can play music that supports our efforts to internationalize. You can never get enough of “The Macarena” or “Lady of Spain“. You P.E. teachers should know that flamenco dancing is very thigh slimming and folk dances just make everybody smile. It’s a small world, after all.

Hey, I’m not out of ideas yet. Building improvements could be done under the auspices of the art department. Let’s embrace a looser definition of “improvement” and turn our art classes into interior design opportunities. Even the youngest of children can grout. Children in Japan are expected to clean their buildings from sweeping to mopping to wiping off surfaces and windows. No wonder they do better than we do in standardized testing. They have richer experiences. High School kids can work on the grounds as part of environmental education, agricultural science, botany, biology and toward a degree in topiary sculpture art. There could be a course called “Living Green” which would require students to recycle, compost, reuse and to get their classmates to wear stuff made from old backpacks and spiral notebooks. Think “Project Runway” and then think of all the money that can be saved.

At this time of year, there would be a community unification period during which classrooms would be packed up and carried out to line the halls of each building. Parents can arrive to pick up their children a bit early, and with vacuum cleaners to get those carpets cleaned. During registration in the summer, the new parents would be invited to haul the stuff back in. So you see, business office, there are many ways to save. If we think hard enough, we could probably get rid of almost every job in the district.

Every day for the past few months staff at Lake Bluff School has been passing through the changing doors that open to the parking lot. We used to have to come down a ramp, stand at the door on the right, ring a doorbell and open the door on the left. When we entered the 21st century, we swiped our way in on the left and pulled open the door. Better. All the while, however, even though a sign said wheelchair accessible it really wasn't and everyone knew it. Anyone in a wheelchair has a devil of a time trying to get in and get out on their own. But one day something had changed. An automatic door had finally been installed but it became clear that there were just a couple things the installers forgot to think about…

Picture this; you are in your wheelchair going into the only door that doesn’t have steps either before or after it. It is the door to the parking lot and accessible only after rolling down a ramp that leads to a bit of a pit with locked glass doors. You are surrounded on three sides by wall, door and steps, which leave you only a few feet for maneuvering your ride. You see the handicapped equipped sign and think you’ll be able to get in. Not so fast. Before you can get in, you have to have someone in the office release the lock on the door. In order to do this you have to ring a doorbell which is to the right of the double doors. You roll over to it, but it’s up so high you can’t reach it unless you get out of your chair and reach. Problem number 1. Well let’s say you were traveling with a meter stick that day and you poked the doorbell so it rang. The person in the office unlocked the door and you realize it’s not the door on the right where the doorbell is, but the door on the left that you need. You back your chair up, turn it, get situated in front of the door on the left, and push the bright blue handicapped entry pad which is on the left. The whole time, the person in the office must be laying on the lock open button which buzzes very loudly the entire time between unlock and the opening of the door.

So you’ve gone to the right, reached up, moved to the left, pushed the button and sounded the buzzer. Now the door begins to swing open, but instead of swinging in, it is coming toward you. It grazes your legs as you hightail it out of the way and roll in the only direction you can. To the right. As you go back to the left to enter, it begins to close and you’re hoping you can wheel over the threshold fast enough to not get hit in the back with the closing door.

I know this is what happens because I took some of the kids in my class, put one in a wheelchair and tried it out. The children were absolutely confused about how someone on their own would be able to get in the school quickly. They watched the boy reach for the doorbell, unable to. They yelled at him to get out of the way when the door started swinging open. They knew he was about to get hit in the back with the closing door and jumped in to push him onto the linoleum welcome mat of the school interior.

Anyone who was installing the door should have either known or found out how best to accommodate those in chairs. The teachers who work with many of the children who come to school in chairs work only 25 feet away from that entrance and could have offered excellent advice as to how the door should be installed. If nothing else, they could have gotten the wheelchair from the health room and tried it out before settling on their plans, like the kids and I did. They would have seen their mistakes right away.

I didn’t mention that even if things went swell and the roller got into the building, the mechanism that is supposed to open the door on exit doesn't work either. You push it, hear a click as though the door is disengaging and sit there waiting. I push it every day as I leave. Click, stand, wait, shake my head. That door has become a source of anger, frustration, and a often a reason to laugh at the series of unfortunate thinking that must have preceded its placement.

There were three people working on it this week and we all hoped the list of reasons why it didn’t work would be shortened. Maybe they were moving it to the other side so riders could wheel in without parallel parking type shifting around. Maybe they lowered the doorbell to the office so people in chairs could actually reach it. Maybe they moved the open door button to the same side as the doorbell. Last I checked, nothing changed. I’ll be leaving for work soon, and check it again. If it is fixed, you’ll be the first to know. If not, go check out the monument to the importance of planning ahead.

The kids in our class brought in over 500 pounds of food for a school food drive. That’s a lot of food, by the way. Picture an upright piano made of canned goods, shaped with bags of beans, rice and flour. My partner teacher and I thought it would be fun to throw out a 500-pound goal, thinking there was no way we could ever reach it. Not with 8 oz. cans of soup and such. After suggesting we would sponsor a Friday night party should the goal be met, things started happening. Every few days we would weigh the food that came in and add that weight to the original figure. As the days went on things looked good for us, we were in the 200s and felt quite sure Friday would remain “flop-on-the-couch” Friday, for us teachers anyway.

Then, the parents must have started plotting because for the next few days entire shrink wrapped cartons of canned goods, five pound bags of dried goods, Sam’s Club sized cans of stewed tomatoes and dusty back of cupboard items poured in like the endless buckets full of water carried and dumped in “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice“. Children were giving one another pep talks and pumping up the group to bring in more food. They attempted to arrange a 6pm meeting at Pick ‘n Save with parents who they would try to talk into buying just a few additional cans.

The last day of the drive finally came and our total was 490 pounds. That was a relief. No party, no twelve-hour day. We teachers were lucky and we knew it. Ironically, however, just before the last minute of the last day of the food drive a voice came through the old wooden speaker box announcing that the collection would be extended one more day, and that students had until Monday to bring in food and wasn‘t that great. My partner and I looked at one another and I mouthed,”Oh, crap.”

An assembly was held during which our students very proudly pushed in their new total, 509 pounds of food. We needed an additional cart for all of our donations. The class had done well, they knew it, and that was definitely a source of pride. They had worked together and accomplished a goal.

Well, we had the party last night and as the parents dropped the children off they thanked us for the gesture, for the excitement their children were feeling, and for the two free hours about to be enjoyed. Some of them expressed to us that we may have a few screws loose and joked that they would be back to pick their kids up the next morning. Funny.

We had a lot of fun in the end, did the limbo, had a bubble blowing contest, ice cream and dance party. One of the kids from the high school who shaved his head to collect money for the Cancer Society stopped by. He came in and spoke to the class before he had his head shaved, explaining to them how he was donating his hair for a cause, that it was something he could do to help if even just a little. Now he was back and had a head like a spiky mountain ridge, red and “tight” as one child who was “down with the language,” described. Spiky juggled for the kids and celebrated with us for a bit… a young group of children who contributed to their community being entertained by a wonderful young man who had done the same. Talk about a feel-good moment.

I was proud to have been this high school boy’s teacher many years ago, and proud to be the teacher of these little bubble gum snapping, limbo dancing, ice cream eating, goofy acting kids now.

Job well done, all of you.

I remember being told once that middle school students were given so many hours of homework because they were being groomed to attend schools like Harvard and Yale. Not that they would all go to them, but they would be prepared to if “Extreme Home Makeover” ever dropped by to raze their home and throw in an ivy league scholarship with the new double stove and bed made of pancake flippers.

While those old icons of scholarship, privilege and connection may motivate some educators to maintain a great lesson plan book, I’m starting to wonder if this is really what our broader society values. As I watch this lampoon of a campaign for nominee of the Democratic Party, I’m learning a lot about Americans in the “heartland”. I’m watching Hillary Clinton hide her Wellesley class ring so the beam from the Miller Lite sign doesn’t draw attention to it while she’s throwing down a beer and a shot. She’s with her people, now.

Barack Obama, on the other hand, insists on making grandiose speeches flowered with high and mighty multi-syllabic adjectives to intellectually motivate voters to sign on for the long term stay of change. He thinks he’s so smart…How can we possibly trust someone who clarifies the kind of lettuce he wants? What does someone who can’t even bowl a 50 know about running a country? He can’t know what we want him to do if he doesn’t know how to drink a shot off the stomach of a constituent. What’s he thinking?

I don’t know about you, but what I’m looking for in a president is someone who can hang with the people; someone who rolls the holes in his socks over the toes and keeps on going. I will cast my vote for someone who acts the way I did when I was 22- a real thinker.

If we really want to educate students so that someday they can be president of the United States, we need to drop the pretense and hit the brass tacks with themes of the common man. There are some things that presidential hopefuls need to know before landing behind the desk that anchors the oval office.

-Government surplus stores carry flag pins big enough to be picked up on digital, but small enough to make it clear that the wearing is obligatory. Pins must always be worn on the left lapel, right side up and in the face.

-When in public, especially with the real people such as non-college educated white males, express a desire to engage in real sports like football. If the sport doesn’t involve beer or mud, don’t even bother. No one’s buyin’ it.

-When you go to your assigned diner along the way, just order the special. Say, “Hey, what’s the special today?” Then eat it. All. If there is no special, look at the dish of some old codger sitting nearby and say, “I’ll have what he’s got. It looks great.” Then leave the old guy alone. He doesn’t want to talk to you.

-Don’t sip shots. It looks stupid.

-Don’t neatly roll up the sleeves on your white or light blue shirt when speaking to people who earn less than $40,000 a year. If you want credibility, wear an “I Closed Wolski’s” or “Wall Drug” t-shirt.

-Spill stuff on your tie or pants suit once in awhile if you want to look like one of us.

-Don’t quote the New York Times. Referencing Dale Earnhardt Jr. and the WWA will get you a lot more attention.

These are tips that ought to be part of every high school and college political science class syllabus. The most important thing for young politicians to know is that we don’t like snobs here in the U.S. of A. We’re not going to do what some book cracking, memory stick carrying, wine leg checking, snail dipping teacher’s pet tells us.

So teachers, be careful. Don’t make elitists out of your students. During their next debate about the death penalty, bring out a couple pies to throw. Show “The Beverly Hillbillies” at the graduation rehearsal and call everybody Jethro. As they cross the stage, give out the diplomas, shake their hands and make them drink a shot. Leave the ceremony knowing you’ve done your best to prepare them for the highest office in the land, giving the country exactly what it is crying for.

A people’s president.

May’s the month for me, May’s the month for me!

National Prayer and Eggs and Asthma, Sleep and Al-ler-gy

National Pet, yah you bet, I love May you see!

               DANCE AROUND THE KITCHEN

Barbecue and Fireworks, Arthritis, Salad, gee

Teacher, Goodwill, Bike, May’s the one I like

Photo, Baby, Car Keep-ing, there’s Speech and Strawber-ry

What a month, a busy month, May’s the month for me!

                          KEEP DANCING

Blood Pressure and Hearing, Phy.Ed., Sports and PTA

Celebrate with us, there’s room what they hey

Carpets and Cartoon Ap-pre-ci-a-tion have their day

Why is that? What’s for fat? Not the month of May!

                 GET UP, WE'RE ALMOST DONE

Family Week and Me-dic A-lert happen at this time

Freedom Shrine and more, couldn’t find a rhyme

If you’ve fungal in-fec-tion we’ll spot it on a dime

Cuz we’re aware that it’s there, isn’t May divine?

Dads get shafted. For the past few days in many classrooms around the country, children have been working on Mother’s Day presents. Kids are being prodded to think of all the wonderful things their mothers do for them besides “making food“. I think elementary teachers throughout the years have painted themselves in corners and are now the default gift and centerpiece providers for all American households. I would like to know where this started, but since that first turkey went home there has been year after year of stuffed paper, traced hand or paper bag versions of birds to plop on the Thanksgiving table. One holiday taken care of. Around winter break you’ll see classroom made art pieces going home to celebrate the birthday of winter apparently. Lots of snowmen, mittens and fir trees that with a few hands-full of tinsel would represent, well you know. Another holiday covered and we’re not even to the new year. We make sure that children have gifts for parents, holiday decorations for the house and whoever invented Grandparents’ Day got us to have children cheer up their one day as well. Check, check, check.

I’ve tried to stay out of the gift providing business, but the pressure is daunting. You see that everyone else has had their classes making stuff and you wonder if your children will be the only ones on the block who didn’t get to carry anything home made of bags, sticks, sticky tape and construction paper. You wonder if they are taking a hit to psyche, or at some point will come back with a handgun, point it at you and ask, “WHY DIDN'T WE EVER MAKE DANCING LEPRECHAUNS?”

I think holidays can be taken care of at home. Mother’s Day is a great chance for Dad to meet with the kids, talk about the virtues possessed by his wife, decide what she might like and lead the children to make or purchase it. Older children can be encouraged to write or make something at home in their rooms. If high school kids can rig up bombs without parents knowing it, I think they can sneak in art supplies, paper and writing implements.

If we’re not careful, December will be devoted to dads as we celebrate Half Father's Day. We’ll provide gifts, and do it the way we do for kids with summer birthdays. It would catch on eventually. No Father Left Behind. But in what other profession do bosses feel obligated to provide supplies, ideas and time for employees to make anniversary gifts, Valentine cards or dinner party place settings for their families? This is one of those areas, like pajama day, where it’s hard to think of teaching as a profession after spending couple weeks making paper mache horns of plenty filled with things kids think they should be thankful for.

I left this piece for a couple days and came back to bring it to an end. In that time, I started noticing all the things my daughter brought home from school for me. There is the coiled clay vase with her fingerprints all over it, the paper flowers, and the one I’ve had on my walls for years; the portrait of me with circle eyeballs sprouting lashes out of the top, the U mouth with horizontal lines ending each end, and the beautiful L nose with two dots inside. “I Love You” it read. That picture has pulled me out of many a dark day. I’ve reached the whole of my ambivalence. To the teacher who helped her make it, I’d like to say thank you and

Happy Mother’s Day.

It is a perfect irony that this year’s high school production is Beauty and the Beast. I saw a preview and it was spectacular. The sets, costumes, pit orchestra, lighting and everything else that contributed to this bit of magic were top notch. Seemed as though they did not cut corners on any part of it. There was an extended stage, excellent sound equipment and yards of gorgeous velvet red curtain. This school was able to provide everything the parents of these young, talented people could ever wish for.

As I was watching these beautiful kids performing a part of their lives they will never forget, I began to get angry. It was an extremely uncomfortable feeling to be watching the best after hearing the worst the day before. The day before I found out about some of the repercussions of this year’s budget. While the candlestick was talking and the teapot singing I was sitting there thinking about how we could possibly work things so we wouldn’t have to lose any staff members, or have to split specialists who find themselves alternating schools, work spaces and student bodies every other day.

As I saw this self-confident cast and crew doing what they love, I looked down the row at my students. There was one who goes to a reading assistant daily for much needed one on one instruction. There was another student who will no doubt qualify for special education next year. I wondered if all the work to diagnose him will be worth it if he only ends up in a program with staff stretched and conscientiously trying to provide what they could before budget cuts began.

The singing just flowed over the filled auditorium. I can only imagine the amount of rehearsal time it took. Many extra hours go into preparing for a production like this. Gallons of paint are purchased to be spread on sets long into the evening. The professionally made costumes must have racked up hours of precision work. I actually found myself distracted by thought, wondering how much extra pay the staff members got to work on this thing and trying to figure out if added up, it would maybe cover the cost of kindergarten aides or a full time reading specialist for the five kids I know will need one next year.

The beauty in experiencing our children performing Beauty and the Beast was somewhat offset by the beast of the upcoming budget. What do we cut? Do we cut teachers and leave those who remain with higher class sizes? Do we cut assistants we have depended on to provide the precious extra teaching time some children require to feel even part of the success the cast must have felt at performance end. Do we cut art, music, p.e. or do we spread them out so thinly that their curricula represents only a best case scenario version to which we can aspire, but they become the commandments known but not practical.

Teachers, parents and administrators love tradition if their schools have histories of excellence. Traditions feel safe and reliable. Cherished or habitually continued events like this cushion the falls that other changes create. Once there was a tradition of opportunity and budgets for all kinds of stuff: gifted and talented teachers with assistants, full time reading specialists in each building, full time art instruction, science lab teachers, and unlocked supply cabinets. None of this exists anymore. We need to look at the situation we really have, and not kid ourselves into assuming we can keep things the way they always were. We have to reevaluate and then adjust our goals accordingly. There will have to be fewer of them, that part is clear. While standards shouldn‘t be lowered, the number of things going on will have to.

I am impressed by the achievements of the students in this production. I know where they learned all of this. I know they got their start in the elementary schools, where music lessons are free of charge given by top rate teacher/musicians no matter the socio economic status of the families.

The complete feeling of joy and pride I feel as I watch these young people has been contaminated this year, sabotaged by this recurring metaphorical question; What will one child have to miss so that another can dance with a teapot?

I was talking with a former student the other day. He is now in middle school and has a list of complaints common to young teenagers. To many of them I responded, “Just man up and do it”, but after he left, I did a lot of thinking about one issue. He told me that if work was late, the grade on it would drop one level for every day. If he did A work, but handed it in three days late, the A work would become D work by virtue of its lateness only.

It seems to me these are two different issues. If the idea of homework is for students to get extra practice, does it matter if it is in on time? If it does, then have a separate marking column for “Gets work in on time” and give them an unsatisfactory grade. If the work is excellent, it is excellent. Seems old thinking to blend the two categories in retaliation. If a student does homework flawlessly, is there even reason for assigning it? If you know very well that certain students copy others’ homework consistently, does prompt return of assignments mean anything anyway? The whole issue of homework is frustrating for everyone involved. It is annoying for teachers when we make copies for students, hand them out, explain the process and find the next day seven kids didn’t do it. One lost it, one swears they never got it, one says he was too busy and the rest were helped by parents. None of these instances can be graded on non-sliding scales any more than middle and high school kids who just copy from one another can.

We have made deadlines the focus, instead of the supposed good to come from the homework experience. Clearly, parents have different attitudes about homework. In some families, it is the spoiler of every evening, every weekend trip, every family gathering, every dinner, anything hoped for between six and 10 pm. Other parents hold it sacred and believe that there is something intrinsically good about it, that it has power to instill understanding in a child where there wasn’t understanding a few hours ago in class. Some think that three hours of homework must be better than half an hour because more is better, right? Some parents think it’s stupid. I must admit there were many instances in my child’s past when I was one of those.

Some people like their children having homework to do because it ties them up long enough for dinner to be prepared, bills to be paid, email checked and so forth. I get that. For that kind of thing, however, there are plenty of books, websites and educational materials out there that parents can stockpile if they want.

There is nothing magical about a worksheet just because it comes from school. Some things just don’t change that much like counting money, measuring, odd/even, and basic skills. Working on things online has other benefits, too. Homework sheets generate a lot of paper.

My personal belief is that a survey should be done at the beginning of the year to see if parents even want homework for their child. It is clear from the return rate by some that it is just not a priority, and that’s fine. Families who have loaded schedules may choose their child not to have an additional daily obligation. Thanks for telling us! Then we won’t have to make copies, send it home, check it and keep track of whether it was returned or not. Families who want homework as a matter of course, check that box and we will send it home and follow through. Families who just want to do more project related or non-skill and drill type homework will be given those assignments as they come up throughout the year.

In elementary school, particularly in Early Childhood (K-3) I have not found it to be worth the hassle. It has never made the difference between getting and not getting it. I generally give it because we are expected to and we are told that parents like it. There are positives, of course. It does keep the parents informed as to how their children think, where the strengths and weaknesses are and more simple things like can s/he write numbers and letters correctly, use punctuation, etc. but if parents aren’t sitting with children while they do homework they don’t know the process used anyway. If they don’t look at the homework as it is being done, they won’t notice numbers are being made from the bottom or backwards. If they do notice it, they will help the child make corrections but until children absorb it developmentally and corrections are made because of new understandings, it’s just cosmetic.

It would be perhaps a better use of time for children to share in dinner preparation, cleaning, putting things away and taking some responsibilities around the house. Some children, when we give them classroom jobs, react as though they’ve never had to do chores or make decisions about how best to do them; and people taut the importance of real world education. Many, many kids don’t know how to wash, dry and put dishes away, clean up after themselves, fold things, tie a shoe, zip, button, wet a sponge and wipe a table. Amazing it is how many students tell us they have no chores to do at home. Ever. Let's put the home in homework, breathe a big sigh of relief, and start making family work charts for spring cleaning.

I can hear the children applauding already.

“My Child Says He’s Bored.” Truth be told this is one line that makes me roll my eyes. There should be no way a child is bored. Pensive, maybe. Relaxed, sure. But bored, no. This is a case where parents have an assumed definition that they have created for themselves over time. Children learn that telling their parents they are bored gets a reaction, lots of questions and possibly a trip to the principal. They get attention. If children only knew the power of the “I’m bored at school” statement. After the dust dies down, the principal has been contacted, teachers have been put on notice that they’d better ratchet it up a notch; the child is left in his own soup. Now he has more math problems, an extra book, harder questions to answer in every subject, the expectation that he’ll work on independent long term projects and no time to just breathe. I’ve seen this so many times. Parents complain. Teachers do what they’ve been asked to. Child is miserable and resistant and then the once big deal is no deal within about 6 weeks. Hornets nest calm and quiet.

When a child says to me that he is bored, I ask him what bored means to him. I don’t assume we share definitions. He usually repeats the statement, shrugs, says work is too easy or too dumb. Sometimes boring means that work is too difficult and he’s embarrassed to admit it. Sometimes boring means he just doesn’t want to do it. Sometimes it means that he doesn’t like using a dictionary when he’s writing a story, sometimes it means he thinks he knows everything already. Sometimes it means that he wants to sit next to his friend he was just moved away from. Defining “Bored” in child English is a crucial first step which parents often neglect before snapping into action.

Secondly, there seems to be an assumption that bored is a bad thing. The times we do some of our best thinking are times kids may describe as boring. Sitting on a beach wondering why there are so many colors of water, watching an ant pull twice its weight across the sand, watching interactions between people, looking for stones, shells, answers to why you just got dumped. We parents need to change the vocabulary a bit and we can change the gestalt. When a child declares boredom, get excited and tell your child that is a signal from your brain that it is time to think about or do something new. Watch something closely, wonder about something unanswerable. Boredom is a sign that your child has not developed intellectually enough to make use of that space in activity. We all know adults like that, too. Adults who are very uncomfortable without their children or spouse around forcing them to some reactive or obligatory action, people close to retirement who have no idea what they would do if they didn’t have work to go to. Bored means we’re not seeing the possibilities.

We have created children who are uncomfortable and “bored” if they are not told the next thing to do the minute after the one before has been accomplished. They take their leads from adults who keep checking off endless lists of things they think their kids should learn, memorize, perform, accomplish or master. Teachers are forced to give those students more and harder work to do after they have met standards acceptable and developmentally appropriate. It’s not enough that a child is doing work extremely well; they have to be given work so hard that the feeling of mastery will forever be just one reach ahead of them. Some people may think it’s good for children to feel incompetent. I don’t know. It sure doesn’t do much for adults and it hasn’t been my conclusion after over thirty years of teaching. I find children at their finest, most exuberant and most excited when confidence can be worn like a soft, comforting garment.

If your child comes to you and says he’s bored, give him a smile and tell him how lucky he is to have a mind that is finally unoccupied.

If whoever thought up Secretaries’ Week really wants to do a service to our secretaries, I have some ideas better than the ones Hallmark and www.flowers.com have come up with. These are ideas that address the daily pains in the feet, hands, brains and butt. It’s funny with elementary school secretaries because this “holiday” is usually around Earth Day. The irony of 640 kids making cards out of folded paper from the copy room and tissue paper flowers may get lost in the love. Maybe next year we can save up all the memos they’ve had to type for the past 9 months and make bouquets out of them. They can be red taped around the top of the pencil stems we’ve all lifted from their desks throughout the year. I have to hand it to them, though, secretaries have tried everything to get us to not steal their pencils. The chain stuck to the counter and to the pencil trick, the big fake flowers on the top trick, they’ve had them made to read “from the desk of…“ , I even taught at one school where the secretaries suspended them from the ceiling so they couldn’t be stolen without them being snapped back and found theoretically guilty.

Secretaries want simple things. They need good chairs. They shouldn’t have to wait around for the staff member with the most comfortable chair to retire. They should have a CEO chair, one that doesn’t have a wheel stuck in lock, tilt back too much or not lower enough. It should have adjustments so her feet can actually touch the ground, not a purse, a box or book. She would like state of the art equipment with excellent training opportunities, service agreements and a cute repair guy. If you can’t give her that, let her use the old stuff she’s used to and trusts, even if it is a typewriter. Give her an ipod so the sounds of requests, complaints, and the hundreds of questions that are thrown at her every day are dulled. Get her one of those number ticket machines so she can talk to people in numerical order when she is good and ready.

Bosses, tell your secretaries where you’re going when you leave and when you’ll be back. You’re the teenager and she’s the mom; the one who bails you out of tough situations, makes you look prepared and cleans up after you literally and figuratively.

Once a month arrange for a masseur to come in and take care of her hands, neck and feet. That will give her something no words on a card, or buds on a flower can. It’s a good psychological move too, because just about the time she gets fed up with you and starts looking for a new job, it will be time for the next massage. Who could quit then?

With the money they make, perks shouldn’t be confined to the top of the coffee pot they were just asked to clean out. Peggy and Laura…I think I got ‘em all!

Happy Secretaries Week.

Summer. The pressure of its approach is already felt in schools. Teachers are looking at the stuff they’ve accumulated throughout the year or kept beyond their expiration dates. Like rangers marking diseased trees with red spray paint, we mentally mark the dumpster items long before the clean in June. We like to keep everything in the room in place until the children are gone. It gives the impression that although the rest of the school is preparing for summer vacation, our class just might be the one that keeps on going.

Administrators are convening. We look for the white smoke arising from the High School in signal that a decision has finally been made about the budget. The guillotine is set up on the athletic field readied to make the cuts. Whisperings in hallways and lunchrooms begin rumors about who’s coming and who will have to go; whose hours will be cut or who travel between two schools. Announced retirements bring longing, envy and party planning responsibilities no one has time for, but will do anyway. It’s the end of the year, when we have the least time and the most is required. It’s frantic and much like election night will be in seven months. You know there will be changes, but what that will mean nobody knows.

It may not be obvious from the outside, but from now through the last day in June there is a lot of tension. The secure, predictable loping of the school year becomes a Tilt-a-Whirl day to day news cycle marathon. Awards Days are planned, which means you have to remember who did something award worthy since October. There is a talent show in the works, concerts by bands and orchestras and performances by classes determined to prove to their parents that they learned something. Assessments take a huge amount of time, especially with the youngest kids who must be tested individually because they can’t read directions or keep track of where to write answers, which many can’t do anyway. Records must be updated, new classes formed, materials ordered after spending weekend hours going through catalogs and writing up the orders. Books need to be reorganized, straightened and stored. Crayons need to be fetched out of the heating systems and furniture, marker tops matched to the dried up marker bottoms, rejected pencil stumps need tossing and the paint you accidentally stained the rug with needs to be lifted so you don’t get moved down on the carpet replacement list. Down to hauling out their potted plants, staff members are worker bees.

Here is the first installation of tips to make the end of the school year easier on everyone.

1. No vacations between now and the end of the year. We need children to get work samples from, give tests to and verify that the distance we think they have come is accurate. Besides, by this time in the year we’re already envious of all the trips kids that are way better than we’ll be able to go on.

2. No unexpected end of year cakes, especially if there is no knife, plates, napkins or time, which there won’t be.

3. Bring all our books back. It’s a little annoying to find them stacked up outside our doors or on a table when we come back in fall. Total amnesty if they are returned before the last week of school.

4. As the weather warms up, remember no shorts shorter than where the fingertips fall when arms are down at sides, no spaghetti straps no belly buttons showing and understand that Crocks are worn at your own risk.

This all goes for students too.

Politicians need to take a strategy used in many early childhood classrooms. They need to have a “Tattle Ear”. I think Earl is the name of the one across the hall. This has proven to be an effective response to the endless tattling that some children enjoy engaging in. The tattling that doesn’t lead to any important information about bleeding, shattered glass, or bone breakage. It’s little whiney stuff. Sometimes, apparently, the simplest solutions are the most effective. Just draw an ear on a piece of paper. It becomes a symbol of caring and patience. The ear never swivels and says "Talk to the hand."  It never hurries, judges or shushes the troubled. Children find weird solace in knowing that when Mrs. Busyteacher doesn’t have time to listen to their rantings, Earl will.

Wouldn’t it be good for politicians and pundits too? Instead of passing off a string of tattles as news or commentary, they could dish it all to Earl and we wouldn‘t have to listen to it. It would clear the way for conversation about things other than lapel pins, whiskey, and recipes. If you want to wonder if a politician’s tears have been evoked as a matter of strategy, ask the ear. If you want to whisper gossip about the other candidates, tell the ear and spare the rest of us. If you want to indict someone for the bad choices made by a surrogate, hash it out with Earl. This technique can also be adapted for use by real people with ears. As a classroom job along with emptying the recycled paper or line leader, make “listener” one of the ways kids can contribute to the smooth running of the day. Every week someone will be appointed to stand and listen to whoever wants to complain, tattle, rant, rave or vent. Make sure everyone gets a turn or you may still have students who are unclear about just how irritating it can be to be tattled at.

Funny how that tattling thing never leaves us. Shoe sizes increase, wrinkles appear, candles on cakes multiply but still we never seem to shake that primordial urge to stick somebody we are consciously or even subconsciously intimidated by.

If kids in school tattle or whine, they become the “nobody wants to play with them” kids. Hear that candidates? We’re doing our best as educators, to make clear to children what is and isn’t tattle worthy. It will help the next generation of voters discern issues from game playing if we adults make the difference clear right from the start. Let’s unite and accept no more tattling from any aged child. Here are some replies, if putting off people isn’t your forte:

“So, what can you do about that? “

“That must have been annoying (or frightening, or frustrating, or …)”

“How did you handle that?”

“What strategy did you use to cope with that?”

“It must have taken a lot of self control not to punch him out when he said that.”

If we can do it in our schools, it may just trickle up to cable TV and talk shows. After last night’s debate, I’m sure I am not the only one thinking realizing just how much that old tattle bug has seeped into our political lives. It must be squished.

Lots of kids across America come home with corporate advertising every day. For example, little toys that say Rony’s all over them. Maybe they were given to kids who bought spaghetti lunch at school. Guess where the spaghetti was from? The association begins. Spaghetti/toy/fun. To me, someone's spaghetti could be made of sun’s rays, vitamins and mother’s milk, and my opinion would still be that promoting it and then providing it as the only entrée item doesn’t pass the stink test.

I’ve nothing against spaghetti. I’ve nothing against nutrition, or even Rony but I’m dead set against using kids for product promotion. When they want spaghetti next, Rony’s will come to mind, obviously. Once the door is open there will be lines forming to break into the business of bulk sales to schools across the country. It would be like serving organic Runkin’ Roughnuts at a senior citizen men’s club breakfast and giving out hands full of Riagra as a take home prize. They’ll make the connection, Riagra/doughnuts/fun.

I’m sure this is done with the best intentions, because afterall, Rony’s tells us this is healthghetti. But bringing any brand name to the fore, as may be done, would make me wonder where the connection to a place like Rony's might lie. I wrote a piece once called, “You Don’t Get Something For Nothing” and this is the motto that keeps me from giving rewards that entice students to have their parents take them to a specific business place. Now if Rony lived over on Morris and was a parent of a Shorewood student, I would be torn. Part of me would want to support his local business (if it wasn’t a link in a chain) and the healthful alternative he is at least attempting to provide students. The other part of me would wonder if Mr. Wal-Mart or Mrs. Roundy’s would move into Shorewood so we would stick store flyers into the Thursday folders.

I would hope that if Shorewood did this, it would be a one-time occurrence. Sure, kids get excited about getting a prize, and giving a few huge ones would be a darn clever way to get kids to want another chance at the grand and now most coveted prize. Kids will eat things for a long time in hopes of getting something free out of it. You don't believe me? Try this word association game: Say "Cracker Jacks" to a Baby Boomer and the word "prize" will be the first and possibly only response they give. I'm pretty sure that if the Rritt Rnn buried twenty-dollar bills in their fish fry occasionally and made that fact public, my intake of cod and Ruinness would skyrocket. That was NOT an advertisement for the Rritt, of course.

I’m just sayin’…