Extortion--but for a Good Cause : What lessons are children learning when they’re required to sell overpriced knickknacks to support their school?

You never know where you’ll find a good civics lesson. Or at least a good civics question, which, come to think of it, is how the best civics lessons end.

Take the issue of funding for schools, both public and private. Never mind the big stuff like legislative support and endowments. Let’s get to parent fund-raising drives--the gift wrap and magazines and candy that kids all over the country are now peddling to their families, friends and neighbors.

Many of us don’t want to buy these items and are unwilling to let our children sell them. Fortunately, both the buying and the selling are voluntary, and we can opt out.

At least, we used to be able to. Now, given the needs of schools and the growing ferocity of parents, we get offers we’re not allowed to refuse.

My child’s private school, for instance, had a gift-wrap sale, scheduled between the T-shirt sale and the silent auction. If ever it was time to “just say no,” it’s to overpriced wrapping paper. So I ordered nothing, saying no three times and promising I’d make amends with time, effort, even money for something else.

One organizer, however, wouldn’t take no. They’d set a goal of “100% participation.” Then came the kicker: “I don’t want to have to get up in front of the whole school and tell the kids they can’t have their ice cream party because one family didn’t participate. Not that I’m going to name your child, but . . .”

I bought some ribbon.

It’s easiest just to give in when the sums are small and the cause is worthy. But there’s a real danger here. Consider first the goods endowed with such importance. We’re talking gift wrap, candy and trinkets at two to three times usual retail. The school gets 50%.

Consider also the fact that the commercial vendor and the organizers are using kids to peddle this junk. The goods don’t matter: Buyers are saying yes to children, not merchandise. Actually, the kids serve to sell the parents, who then sell their friends, relatives and office colleagues. And the kids are drawn in by junky prizes ranging from stickers to stuffed animals. As one mother who with her husband sold almost $500 worth of gift wrap at their respective offices said, “My 6-year-old really wanted that bear.”

What a lesson for schoolchildren. What happened to kids washing cars, cleaning yards, making things themselves?

Some parents offer time and labor instead of money. Some give money as well and might rather give the school $10 than pay $20 for gift wrap. Most people do the best they can.

Still, when it was suggested that parents might volunteer time instead, an organizer sniffed, “They should do both.” And if they do neither, “They shouldn’t be here.” You have to spell it out, said a PTA leader at a big magnet public school: “We sent out a notice that we expect parents to give 40 hours or $200.”

How did everyone get so self-righteous? How do they know what others can give? More important, who’s to say who should and shouldn’t “be here?”

Which brings us to that 100% participation, the core of the civics lesson. Philosophically speaking, anyone can want 100% participation in their drive, but people running other drives may think theirs equally important. And those solicited may hold convictions making it important that they not participate.

It’s just gift wrap, of course, and it’s for a good cause. But throughout history, all kinds of horrors have been perpetrated in the name of good causes and what they all shared was an insistence on 100% participation. Better to allow people choices and differences, particularly when they all have a worthy goal. I think that’s what diversity is all about.

In the long run, schools might even take in more money--which is what they really need.