when is too much

I was student teaching in the K-3 classroom of the Lab School for Point Park College, I had 15 kids ranging from the ages of 5 to 8, some of whom were children of the professors of that college many of whom were from affluent homes with high income earning parents, and about three children who happened to be the children of the maintenance people working in the college. It was the early 70’s and Lab schools were the rage. It was an open classroom in approaching its curriculum, older kids mentoring younger kids, younger kids expressing fresh ideas. And it was also an attempt at an open look at society where income levels mattered not, varied environments were a good thing, and the classroom was a kind of collective bringing it all together.

This I thought would be ideal. I could be creative in my lesson plans, I could have the children share their various experiences, never once stating that one was better than the other, and I could relate to these students without any kind of barriers hindering my communication. I was, for me, in Student Teaching heaven!

Once a week we had a share and tell (show and tell seemed too Capitalistic and materialistic) and sharing seemed more egalitarian. We encouraged the students to share anything tangible to anything less tangible such as thoughts or ideas. We had explained to the kids and their parents that sharing can be as big as you wish or as small and intimate as you desire. Flowery words and phrases were so 1970’s

Each week four kids would offer to participate, this was an open classroom and once the child agreed to be the shower and the teller, a note went home to the parents and the presentation was left to the family. My lead teacher and I were so damned proud of our selves!

It seemed that the parents understood the purpose of share and tell. The first three weeks saw the kids share poems, songs they invented, some brought in a pet and some displayed pictures of their family. Surely, my lead teacher and said aloud, we are creating a generation of kind, empathetic, and emotionally rich children. The future will shine brighter because of our work in the Lab School of Point Park College. (Aww youth, sweet youth!)

It was the fourth week of this inspirational, amazing, before its time program and Abagayle, Abagayle with a Y not an AI, had agreed to participate. Abagayle was the only child of an investment banker and corporate attorney. They both worked for PPG, and since their offices were located downtown, they found the location of Point Park College Lab School conducive to their schedules and convenient to their place of employment. They were a bit hesitant about our open classroom environment, but enrolled Abagayle, saying we will judge it one year at time. What harm can happen in a year. Usually Mom or Dad dropped Abagayle off patted her on the head, said hello to me and left. But today, neither Mom nor Dad dropped Abagayle off in the classroom, but instead it was their chauffeur. Abagayle entered the room with a box as large as one of those boxes women use to carry to hold their Easter bonnets. Immediately following Abagayle was her chauffeur, carrying four of the same sized hat looking boxes. Hmmm, I said to myself, what in the world is she bringing for share and tell.

The chauffeur, a very business like person asked me where the display table was located. I must have had a puzzled, confused look on my face, when the chauffeur asked the question again and added; these are precious materials and need to be located on a display space, not to be touched by anyone but Abagayle. I pointed to the one table we used for everything from snack to art projects and said here it is. (It has been too many years since this happened but I still remember receiving a look from this man that was a combination of I could run you over in my fancy car to even I wouldn’t eat off of that table).

He walked away from me and proceeded to the one table. Then he opened the hat like boxes and inside each were at least 6 Barbie dolls. When he opened all the boxes there were 30 Barbie dolls on display. Some were still in their original box and some all dressed in colorful and extravagant outfits.

Mr. B, (my lead teacher thought that only using the first initial of my last name made it less formal for the kids. She thought the Mr. was okay for the first semester and maybe after winter recess they kids could call me GB), I am ready to share and tell. Okay, Abagayle I said, still in awe of just how many Barbie’s she had, lets gather the class and we can begin.

Abagayle shared and told. It was a long share and tell, as she explained who bought her which Barbie and for what special or for that fact no special occasion she received one of these dolls. When she was finished and the chauffeur was helping to place the Barbie’s in the hat boxes, Kiefer, one of the kids of the maintenance person’s child and his friend Laura came over to me. Laura started by saying Mr. B. those were a lot of Barbie’s. Does she really have time to play with all of them? Then Laura said more as a statement, I guess she doesn’t because some are still in a box. Then Kiefer said to me, when is too much, just too much? Mr. B. when do we all stop needing so much of anything? I only have two hands so maybe two is okay, but 30? After that day of share and tell, a kind of race began,it seemed the more you had the cooler you were. Most of the parents tried way too hard to impress.

Today, Billionaire Warren Buffett urged U.S. lawmakers Monday to raise taxes on the country's super-rich to help cut the budget deficit, saying such a move will not hurt investments.

"My friends and I have been coddled long enough by a billionaire-friendly Congress. It's time for our government to get serious about shared sacrifice," The 80-year-old "Oracle of Omaha" wrote in an opinion article for the New York Times. (Reuters)

To this day, I still see Abagayle with her 30 Barbie’s; I hear Laura and Kiefer wondering about when is too much too much. By now all three kids are in their 30’s and I wonder if they still ask the same questions, or still indulge in more, more, more?