Corporate Ties to Schools Priced High, Critics Caution

One day last year, inspectors descended on 30 public schools. This is what they found:

Posters for Pepsi and Otis Spunkmeyer cookies. Display cases hawking Snapple and Excedrin. School-distributed textbook covers promoting Nike, Pringles and Calvin Klein. Contests sponsored by K-Swiss and McDonald’s.

Corporate partnerships. Book fairs, gift wrap sales, fashion shows for Gargoyles sunglasses. An espresso cart, set up by a local merchant. TVs tuned to a kid-oriented news show--with commercials, of course.

Were these schools or bazaars?

The question resounds in Seattle, where parents have risen up against a new policy that embraced advertising in public schools. They deployed inspectors to find out how much of the stuff was already there.

The answer, in Seattle and nearly everywhere else: a lot.

Schools are being squeezed between rebellious taxpayers and rising costs. And for the same reason that robber Willie Sutton took his business to banks--because that’s where the money is--school administrators are looking to corporate America for relief.

So in Grapevine, Texas, they have put a Dr Pepper billboard on a middle school’s roof, advertising to passing planes. In 45 districts nationwide, school buses carry ads. Schools across the country vie to sign exclusive contracts with Coke or Pepsi, in exchange for goodies like new scoreboards (with Coke or Pepsi logos, of course).

Occasionally there’s a rebellion, like last March when an Evans, Ga., teenager wore a Pepsi shirt on Coke Day, earning a one-day suspension.

More often, it happens quietly; contracts are signed without fanfare, and gradually it becomes impossible for a student to spend a day of reading, writing and ‘rithmetic without being lobbied to buy something.

To some school officials, this is manna from mercantile heaven. They point to the benefits: a sports program rescued from oblivion here, a fund to improve academic performance there.

But some communities--Seattle, Milwaukee and Berkeley, among them--have been moved to ask significant questions:

Is it right to expose kids to advertising in school, where attendance is required and they cannot walk away? Or does it really matter, in an era when kids themselves are veritable walking billboards of logos and ads?

Can business improve education?

Or should there be a place in our world that is unbranded by brand names?

*

“I felt like Rosa Parks,” says Brita Butler-Wall, laughing.

Not that Butler-Wall has integrated any buses. Instead, she is the founding mother of Seattle’s ad-free schools movement.

It was Butler-Wall, a professor of education at Seattle University and mother of two, who caught wind of the district’s proposal to accept advertising. “I was shocked and horrified,” she says, and she resorted to the only weapon she had: “I e-mailed all the parents I knew.”

The plan to “accept advertising and corporate sponsorship opportunities” was adopted in November 1996, after just 30 minutes of public discussion. But Butler-Wall and her e-mail army did not rest.

They organized, held meetings, lobbied. The Seattle City Council weighed in with a resolution against commercialism in schools.

The city’s school superintendent, John Stanford, was in a quandary.

A charismatic former major general in the U.S. Army, Stanford had brought an outsider’s perspective to the problems of the Seattle schools--most pressingly, a $35-million hole in the district’s budget.

The administration cut staff and other costs; for example, schools were cleaned every three days instead of every day. It started charging nonprofits and everyone else market prices to rent school spaces.

Advertising was another piece in the puzzle. “A million, two million. That would have been wonderful,” says Joseph Olchefske, who is running the district while Stanford is being treated for leukemia.

Olchefske was chief financial officer when the proposal was made. Looking back, he says, he should have been more specific about what kind of advertising he intended to accept.

He now says that he envisioned ads in parent newsletters, on the district’s Web site, at extracurricular activities. (A district-wide talent show is already sponsored by a real estate company, he notes.)

“Under this policy, we could have done things that were dumb,” Olchefske says. “We could have dictated that every kid had to wear a T-shirt with a Nike symbol on it. Well, the policy would have allowed this, but there’s no way we would have done it.”

But in Seattle, a union town with a liberal tradition, many assumed the worst. So Stanford asked the school board to rescind the policy; he commissioned the survey of commercialism in the schools and set up a committee to draw up a new plan.

The old general had tasted victory in the Persian Gulf War. Now he suffered defeat at the hands of Brita Butler-Wall.

*

The paint company figured it was a good way to reach the next generation of customers: a pamphlet, distributed in school art classes, explaining primary and secondary colors. (The company’s products were mentioned, of course.)

There were no protests. But then, no one expected protests in 1890.

Matthew Klein, assistant editor of Marketing Tools magazine, uses the story to illustrate a point: Commercialism in school is nothing new.

Still, it is clearly on the rise. Alex Molnar, a professor of education at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, says references to school commercialism in the media rose as much as 250% between 1990 and 1997.

Molnar, in his book “Giving Kids the Business: The Commercialization of America’s Schools,” says the keys to the schoolhouse were handed to business during the Reagan and Bush administrations, when there was a perception that American education was in trouble and needed a dose of capitalistic know-how.

But Molnar, a harsh critic of advertising in schools, says if “the profit motive was a stowaway carefully hidden when the corporate reform ship set sail during the 1980s, it is now at the helm.”

Programs Can Turn Kids Into Pitchmen

Molnar and others cite:

* Educational materials and videos of dubious merit, distributed by companies to teachers. Some are one-sided or incomplete; others verge on the comical.

One packet suggested that students burst Gushers fruit snacks between their teeth and compare it with a geothermal eruption. Another, produced by Campbell Soup Co., asked students to compare the thickness of Prego sauce with Ragu. This was said to be a lesson in scientific thinking.

* Corporate intrusions. General Mills has sent the Trix rabbit to visit schools that have collected the most box tops from the company’s cereals and snack foods; schools also get cash for each box top they send in.

“Kids love the Trix rabbit. . . . It’s a neat way for corporate America and the schools to work hand in hand,” says Pam Becker, a General Mills spokeswoman. “I don’t think we’ve had a single complaint from a school.”

* Incentive programs that turn kids into salesmen. One company suggested that students use this pitch:

“Dear Grandma,

“My school needs more computers for our classrooms. You can help us by ordering some new magazines or extending your current subscriptions at this time.

“You’ll save money with the school prices and your magazine orders provide more ‘hands on’ computer training for me. Order by the prize deadline and I can earn a school crew shirt.

“Please help me if you can.

“From: Amy

“P.S. I love you.”

Others are less obvious but still controversial. Pizza Hut’s “BOOK IT!” program encourages more than 22 million children to read each year. The incentive: Free individual pizzas (which requires a trip to Pizza Hut, and perhaps the purchase of pizzas for the rest of the family, of course).

Presidents Reagan and Bush and a series of education secretaries have lauded “BOOK IT!” But Consumer Reports says it is “highly commercial.”

Pizza Hut spokesman Jay Allison denies that the program is a form of advertising. “We have made a conscious effort not to do that,” he says.

“There’s no purchase requirement,” he says. “We know that kids love pizza. What better way to reward reading and to develop a lifelong love of reading than with pizza?”

Telecasts to Schools Reach 8 Million Kids

And then there is Channel One. Since 1990, this 12-minute daily news show has been beamed to schools across the country; it is now featured in more than 12,000 schools with more than 8 million kids. Each promises to show Channel One, and in exchange each is wired and lent a television for every classroom.

The catch? Each telecast includes two minutes of commercials for things like acne medicine and snack foods. Critics point out that this adds up to a full school day every year.

Others complain about the quality of what comes between the commercials. “It’s just schlock--things like ‘a day in the life of a rock star.’ It’s a prelude to the two minutes of advertising,” says Nick Leon, an administrator at Foothill Continuation High School in San Jose.

“We have more regulation of what kids see when they watch Saturday morning cartoons than what they see in schools,” says Marianne Manilov of the Center for Commercial-Free Public Education in Oakland.

Obligation Inc., a conservative group based in Alabama, has done some calculations. Based on the average cost of keeping an Alabama child in school--six cents a minute, low by national standards--Obligation says it costs $2,600 a year to show Channel One to a class of 23.

By contrast, the group says, a school could buy a 19-inch color set and mounting bracket for $265 plus tax, and probably persuade a local cable company to contribute the wiring.

Paul Folkemer will soon leave his job as principal at Ben Franklin Middle School in Ridgewood, N.J., to become executive vice president of Channel One. He insists that Channel One is “a good product and it enables the schools to teach kids the news. . . . The commercials pay for a good show.”

As for those ads, Folkemer says, “I think it’s really naive to think that we’re going to keep kids away from commercials.”

*

Indeed, it has been estimated that the average American child sees 500,000 commercials between the ages of 3 and 18.

The reason they are targeted is clear. Children under 12 spend an estimated $17 billion a year, and teenagers spend $57 billion. All of them influence billions more in family spending.

James B. Twitchell, professor of English at the University of Florida and author of the book “ADCULT USA,” says advertisers can go to schools to reach tomorrow’s consumers.

“It doesn’t get any better,” he says.

“These people have not bought cars. They have not chosen the kind of toothpaste they will use. This audience is Valhalla. It’s the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

Schools Forge Unique Bond With Business

There are many who say that schools should not bar companies seeking access to that gold. Instead, schools should profit from it.

That’s the thinking in Federal Way, a city of 70,000 south of Seattle. Federal Way’s schools have a remarkable relationship with business. The superintendent, Tom Vander Ark, is a former marketing man, and the schools maintain a large storefront in the Sea-Tac Mall, several doors down from Frederick’s of Hollywood.

Authorities in Federal Way decided to solicit institutional ads--ads that don’t directly sell products--for sporting venues and high schools.

The money, says Deborah McGee, director of community relations, will go directly to programs for academic improvement in the high schools. She expects to net $400,000 a year to start.

“We believe that we cannot educate our youths by ourselves,” she says.

Soft-Drink Sponsors Ante Up Hard Cash

In Denver, they set out a year ago to persuade 12 corporate sponsors to pay a minimum of $100,000 each in return for a variety of exclusive rights, advertising exposure and public recognition.

Christine Smith, director of the program, says the district has succeeded beyond expectations. Thirteen sponsors have anted up $7.4 million, including $1.5 million from Pepsi Cola.

Pepsi was named exclusive vendor in schools, administrative offices, stadiums and gyms--a deal that is expected to generate at least $5.4 million over five years, including the $1.5-million donation.

“There is a romantic, nostalgic notion that public education would not be tainted in any way by the for-profit world,” says Denver school board member Laura Lefkowits. “But we simply cannot meet the growing needs of our community without partners.”

Pueblo, Colo., also has a soft-drink deal, but with Coca-Cola. The district draws commissions for each can sold from machines in the schools. Not everyone thinks soft drinks should be part of a teenager’s diet, and the schools walk a fine line when it comes to encouraging kids to consume.

“The location of the machines is key,” says Dave Roudebush, assistant superintendent. “You want them near the exits, so kids can pop their 75 cents in the machines and take a can home.”

Pueblo also has placed ads on the sides of its school buses, mostly messages like “Be cool, stay in school”--with the advertiser’s logo, of course. The posters are 20 inches high by 32 inches wide, and “the logo is relatively small, no larger than 25% to 40% of the space,” says Roudebush.

Pueblo has Dan DeRose to thank for this largess. DeRose is president of DD Marketing of Colorado Springs, Colo.; in three years, he has been hired by 60 school districts to help them bring in corporate dollars.

DeRose says it is not his role to tell districts to accept ads. But face it, he says: Advertising is already there, in Army recruiting posters, calendars from M&M;, Coke machines.

“Manage it. Be in control of it. If they want to allow it, have it generate revenue,” he says.

Is there any problem with exposing kids to advertising?

“It irritates me when people don’t give kids credit,” DeRose says. “It’s effective, but it’s not making robots out of kids.”

*

Robert Radford sees no problem with taking money from corporations to improve his school. “It’s the way the world’s turning,” he says.

Radford is principal of Seattle’s Meany Middle School, and he sees the benefits of corporate aid: used computers donated by Boeing, a little cash from an exclusive deal with Coke, televisions from Channel One.

He also has arranged a partnership with AT&T; Wireless. The company has given every teacher at Meany a cellular phone with two years of free service, so they can talk to parents and each other.

The company also sent 200 employees to help the school with gardening and computer work. It provided a spaghetti dinner, with entertainment, for students, staff and their families. It threw a barbecue lunch for the entire school.

Radford thinks AT&T; and other companies will profit from their Meany connection. In fact, he hopes they do. “I ask myself, ‘What can I do to make sure that they’re going to get something out of this?’ ”

He believes that AT&T; is gaining information about the performance of its equipment, that it will benefit from good public relations, and that its equipment will become legitimate in the eyes of students who will see cell phones in the hands of teachers, not pushers.

(For the record, AT&T; Wireless community relations manager Susan Johnston says, “That’s not why we do it. . . . There is so much that needs to be done in education, and we just want to help.”)

Kristina Smith, a sixth grader, appreciates what AT&T; is doing. She doesn’t mind if the company benefits. “I think they’re doing both. They want to be able to say, ‘Oh, we’re helping, and blah blah blah.’ ”

And Maria Tilford, who teaches math and science, is all in favor of AT&T.; “If the corporations want to spread the wealth, that’s OK with me.”

But Channel One gets mixed reviews. Though Radford thinks it is great--”any good teacher can take these current events and capitalize by having a teaching moment on it,” and students produce their own shows and broadcast them around the school--not all teachers turn on their sets.

Students “pay more attention to the commercials than to the actual news. I find that offensive,” says journalism teacher Paula Wittmann.

Channel One will be the next target of Brita Butler-Wall and her Citizens’ Campaign for Commercial-Free Schools. It is in all 10 Seattle middle schools, and she says it has no place there: “It’s a clear case of using taxpayers’ dollars to benefit corporate purposes.”

The committee that is meeting to draw up a new policy on commercialism for Seattle has decided it will not tackle Channel One. But it is still debating restrictions on advertising, fund-raising and sponsorships.

Whatever happens, there will certainly be more commercialism in Seattle’s public schools than Brita-Wall would like.

“I got so cynical about this stuff that I came to doubt whether there ever was a free lunch,” she says. “I’m completely fed up. I don’t think any of it should be in the schools.”

John Buller does not believe schools can afford to be so chaste.

Twenty years ago, in another crisis, Seattle pulled the plug on middle-school sports. Now Buller, a former department store executive working as a volunteer, has brought them back with money from corporate sources and the city.

He has built a program for more than 3,000 kids, with basketball, soccer, Frisbee, track, volleyball and wrestling. So there may be some logos on uniforms, Buller says. So what?

“If the world’s pure, I get it,” Buller says. “The world’s not pure.”