Readin’ and ’ritin’ ’bout back-to-school ’rithmetic

Imagine sitting down in a fine restaurant, ordering your meal and something to drink, then being asked whether you brought your own plate, silverware, glass, and napkin.

You’re told you’ll also need to bring crackers to share with others who order soup or salad and a small bottle of cooking oil for the chef to use in preparing everyone’s food. A fellow diner is asked to bring oven mitts. Another needs to provide three jars of ground pepper.

There may be very valid reasons for each of the items on lists of supplies expected from Marion students in kindergarten through 12th grade. But some of the items on the ever-swelling lists seem a bit like bring-your-own-plate.

Twenty years ago, parents of a kindergartner had to spend about $10 on crayons, glue, scissors, erasers, and tissues — the latter despite the fact that it’s never been clear why schools provide toilet paper but insist students must bring their own facial tissue, which often is shared with an entire class.

These days, kindergartners must bring only one box of tissues, but first graders need to bring three. Maybe our new federal secretary of health and human services has determined that noses run three times as much in first grade as they do in kindergarten.

The sniffles apparently are mitigated by second grade, when students need only two boxes. They need only one in fourth, but two in third and fifth. This is the type of science Robert F. Kennedy Jr. must adore.

Kindergartners also apparently drink more. They need to bring two boxes of paper cups — a specific brand at that — while first graders need only one. By second grade, they apparently have given up drinking — a worthwhile goal if we’re not talking about water or milk.

Items that will be used exclusively by students who bring them seem more understandable than items that will be shared. But it’s hard to understand exactly what’s so special about physical education starting in kindergarten that requires special shoes to be kept at the school. Are we training kids for marathon running this young?

It’s also hard to understand why most students from kindergarten on need headphones, not earbuds.

For the first 70 years of my life, whenever I wanted to privately listen to something — say, on an airplane — I used earbuds. They were the cheap type that come with phones and radios — the type you can buy 50 of for $22 on Amazon or spend the same amount for just a single set if you forget and buy at an airport concession stand.

I eventually received as a gift a set of noise-canceling, wireless Bose headphones, which I sincerely appreciate, but they and earbuds do the same basic job, just for a lot less money.

Apparently, third and fifth graders share some hidden trait with septuagenarians like me because earbuds are allowable for them — just not for fourth graders and younger kids.

Kindergartners must bring a box of crackers or cereal to share. If a student’s last name begins with A through H in first grade, a box of snack-size zip-locking plastic bags is required. Others in first grade must bring quart bags. By second grade, last names from I through L are added to those who must bring smaller bags, which by this point have become quart size, while the rest must bring gallon bags.

In fourth grade, half the alphabet must bring disinfecting wipes. Kids whose last names begin with A to K can protect themselves against germs, but kids whose last names begin with L through Z apparently aren’t as lucky. They have to bring two extra boxes of facial tissue.

Personally, as an M, I’d prefer to be in the disinfected group instead of the infected one. At least there’s hope. By fifth grade, those with last names of L to P bring wipes while others bring various sizes of plastic bags, maybe to put the wipes in after they’re used.

Kindergartners don’t need dry-erase markers, but first and second graders need four each. Amazon sells 200 of them for $33. Surely a school district wouldn’t have to increase its mill levy to provide dry-erase markers for everyone. I can hear the campaign slogan now: A chicken in every pot (or, perhaps, in every zip-locking bag) and a dry-erase marker in every kid’s hand!

We could devote this entire page to more examples. The point is, why can school districts afford to pay for pricy banners for each senior athlete in high school but can’t provide most of the everyday items needed to fulfill the schools’ primary purpose — which isn’t to score touchdowns or win volleys.

Parkview Church in Hillsboro is to be commended for buying nearly all the supplies Hillsboro students need through fifth grade, whether families can afford the supplies or not. But wouldn’t it be better if church money could go straight to the needy and school taxes took care of whether all kids can blow their noses for free. Instead, districts go into debt to create new concession stands and locker rooms.

Maybe if we looked at all expenditures we’d find enough things we could do without having to insist that parents have to pay for their kids to be able to blow their noses. Maybe we could find just enough left over to put up banners honoring not just athletes but also top students and those whose grades improve the most.

— ERIC MEYER