Rattling a tin cup to educate our children
Ostensibly, Americans support education.
Sometimes the reality doesn’t match the rhetoric, however, whether it’s a football coach earning more than a university president or accomplished academics being sneered at as “elites.” Our commitment to education is also open to question when we hear about teachers who have to dip into their own pockets to pay for necessary classroom supplies.
A recent report from the educational publishing company Scholastic found that 55 percent of teachers in the commonwealth have used their own money over the past year to purchase classroom materials, and 58 percent reported that they are able to update their classroom libraries only once a year, or even less than that.
Stories of classrooms going without basic supplies, or teachers having to turn to crowdfunding to get them, are legion throughout the school year, but particularly so when it begins. The Pittsburgh public radio station WESA-FM reported last week on Gina Murphy, an autism support teacher at Brookline Elementary School who went online in order to get money for toys, flashcards and fabrics that she uses in the classroom. None of these was covered by the district.
“If I want to do any of these other things, I put my own money out there to do it,” Murphy said. She explained that she does it “because it is so valuable for these kids, because if you don’t have the materials that you need, you don’t get as much of an effect.”
The efforts by Murphy and her friends are laudable. But should she have to rattle a tin cup to improve the classroom experience for students, especially those with special needs? Should other instructors have to add to their own credit card debt so their classrooms can have basics like sticky notes, pens, pencils, staples and tissues?
Is this how we show our wholehearted commitment to education?
One third-grade teacher in Oklahoma recently decided to turn her own frustration into a kind of performance art. Teresa Danks put on a Minnie Mouse backpack, positioned herself alongside a highway and help up a sign saying that she needed school supplies.
Basically, she panhandled.
Danks told NPR she typically spends about $2,000 a year of her own money on classroom supplies, and that’s on an annual salary of about $35,000, before insurance and taxes. She managed to snare $32 in 10 minutes along the road.
She also admitted many colleagues share her frustration.
“I just tried to do something to stir some conversation,” Danks explained on the program “All Things Considered.” “And, I mean, I didn’t expect anyone to listen because they never have before. And so I’m overwhelmed, and thrilled that people are listening because it’s a problem across our nation. And I just think it’s time that our legislators start making changes and putting our children first.”
There’s a bumper sticker that’s been affixed to the backs of vehicles for years that says, in one form or another, that it would be great if schools were fully funded and the Pentagon had to hold a bake sale. While we would hate to see our country’s defense hinge on cupcake sales, we also hate to see the education of our children depend on the kindness of strangers – or the piggy banks of their instructors.