Where America's day begins

I remember feeling a mix of emotions at all of my elementary school bake sales. My Mom was one of those Moms that was always at school–selling this or painting that. With every bake sale, the thrill that my Mom was there would wane a little, as my little innocent boy heart hardened with a mixture of adolescence and Pillsbury frosting. Though, one thing I never tired of was the gossip she would tell me, whose deadbeat Mother took all the doughnuts home or yelled at a kid for no reason.

Emotions aside, one thing I always remembered about my elementary school bake sales was that I looked forward to them, not because of what was sold, but the very fact that something was being sold. It was the change in routine that we third grade consumers were paying for. What we bought, be it cookies cut from a plastic goo-sausage or a bag of low-salt pretzels, was secondary.

News of Chancellor Klein’s Honduran decree against the freedom to bake has finally reached me here in Bumfuck, PA. I cringe to think about the reactions of already-cash-strapped Principals who seem to have born the brunt of departmental smackdowns in recent months. And while I think I understand the reasoning behind this seemingly random announcement: too much and tardy, Mr. Klein.

Beyond the nitpicky protests about nut allergies and such, the glaring fat kid in the room respect to this issue is America’s obesity epidemic. One of the hardest hit demographics of this epidemic is urban children, even beyond this, nearly 2% of American children attend public school in New York City. Clearly, action by the NYC Department of Ed. was necessary, but not to this degree.

Departmentally speaking, eroding the ability of Principals to set policy for their own school is a dangerous path to follow. Draconian and arbitrary rules, passed down from inaccessible institutional deity doesn’t make for accountable people but rather frustrated, apathetic or antithetical people — certainly not good principals as far as the broader department is concerned. Be it cell phones, tamagotchis or bake sales, an outright ban on anything that isn’t directly dangerous to students or detrimental to their education should only be considered as a last resort (ala: the US Supreme Court case Bethel v. Fraser) and should be employed in the manner least restricting the abilities of principles and the rights of students while remaining effective. (ala the US Supreme Court doctrine of ‘least restrictive means’)

Fiscally speaking, bake sales and the similar genres of fundraising are not only routine for schools but absolutely essential. The money provided by the state is barely enough to cover the essentials for a classroom education at any grade level, let alone extras.

Nurturing a sense of intrinsic motivation should be the objective rather than limiting access. Semantically, immoderation got Americans into this obesity situation and further demonstration of immoderation is counter-productive. It makes food the enemy, much in the same way the opposite sex becomes the enemy in single-sex schools. In both situations, children are never socialized in how to interact with the avoided entity which can result in overindulgence or fearful-celibacy–in food terms: obesity or anorexia.

So, what should the Department of Education do? Act in a gradual and moderate spirit. Rather than an outright ban, encourage or even require the inclusion of healthier foods at bake sales, as mentioned before—it’s the break in routine that is the largest treat, anyway. Teach kids the importance of moderation through early and broadly encompassing health-maintenance education—setting kids up for a time when the need to make their own decisions and to combat the contraband sweets entering in backpacks and lunchboxes. And lastly, practice what you preach and provide healthy and reasonably fresh foods in cafeterias at mealtimes—not that processed slop the Department serves now.

Drastic times do call for drastic measures but that is no excuse for policy reaching beyond the scope of necessity and into the draconian wings. Take a deep breath, moderate yourselves and have a cookie every once in a while.