Sunday, October 16, 2011

Cranky About "Buy Expensive Knicknacks" Fundraisers

At the risk of alienating half the parents out there, I'm going to reveal a secret....you know those fundraisers where you take home a catalog of stuff and then you're supposed to ask your friends and neighbors to buy some of your random whatnots? They kinda make me cranky. I may smile and tuck the circular into my bag, next to the calendar with the room meetings written on it and the memos about who has impetigo and the description of my child's latest skinned knee. I might even nod eagerly as you explain the details of how I do what I'm supposed to do. But inside, I'm rolling my eyes.

On the one hand, we have a duty to raise the money and P-A-R-T-I-C-I-P-A-T-E. Education is underfunded everywhere, and maybe someone really will appreciate that big tin of popcorn. Maybe you just helped them cross a random relative off their gift list or avoid a trip to the store. Better to spend our money in ways that benefit the school than send the same amount to some corporation that uses it to chop down baby seal habitat or something. But wait, that implies a similarity in price. Oh no.

The prices are often ridiculous. Am I really going to ask my friends and neighbors and co-workers to buy a $22 cake? No. I don't know what kind of money they make, particularly, but I'm pretty sure that some of them are struggling to make ends meet and asking them to shell out what might be several hours wages for a cake is just rude.

I can handle all kinds of fundraisers....a truck wash, a snack bar, a bake sale, a garage sale, a food drive, a penny jar, bingo night, spaghetti feed, cake walk, car raffle...bring it on. But the big wad of gift wrap and that tasteful collection of Santa bags and tags makes me a little crazy. I don't like to pay retail for seasonal tchotchkes. Pardon me while I spellcheck that. I kept adding more consonants, but it didn't seem to be helping. Tchktchotchkkes. There we go. Yes, I like to get that stuff for fifty cents in January. I like it even better when they pay me to take it home.

I was reasonably good at the candy bar sales in high school -- just carry a box of candy to each class, put in on my desk, and if anyone wanted one, they knew the drill. Girl Scout cookies, Camp Fire candy, usually people were reasonably happy with the product and didn't mind giving me a few bucks for something tasty. Roadside barbeque chicken, ushering at football games, making tortillas at fairs...no problem. I will work my butt off in the rain, I will work late hours, I will stand on my feet all day...as long as I don't have to ask the person in the next office to buy a plastic snow globe.

And here's the darkest bit of the secret: part of my crankiness about these sales is that I'm not good at them. I like to win. I want my kid to take home the prize. Some people are born salespeople, and everyone loves to buy things from them. There's no awkwardness, no sense of risked friendship or sociability. They like to sell, I like to buy.

But I am not that salesperson for this kind of stuff. Some folks go for the subtle approach -- put the offer on their FB status, hang the sign-up sheet in the lunchroom. That's ok by me. But subtle and relaxed is not going to win this thing, because there are Salespeople parents out there and I am not one of them. My 3-year-old is not going to get a big gold star because I signed up everyone on the planet for a full-price magazine subscription. We are going to lose this contest, and I like to win. There, I said it.

Anyone want to give me $22 for a bundt cake?

1 comment:

  1. Not just that, but who makes the bulk of the money on tins of Swedish-themed cookies and lemon-scented room freshener sales? Some corporation who uses it to chop down baby seal habitat. That's right, we're still not winning. Cheaper all around just to ask the co-workers to donate $2 to your school and buy a fruitcake at the mall.

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