Free Poison at the PTA by Laura Alden Page B

all was rosy. Half of the PTA wanted to spend the money on sports-oriented projects. The other half wanted to spend the money on fine arts projects. The two viewpoints had split our group apart with name-calling and other conduct unbecoming to PTA members and I was past fed up with the entire mess.
    I fingered the gavel’s handle and looked out at the group. It was like a church wedding with a twist: pro-sports on that side, pro–fine arts on the other. Marina sat on the artsy side, Tina Heller on the sports. Nick Casassa and his wife, Carol, sat on different sides. “As most of you know,” I began, “last fall we had two committees draw up two different plans for disbursement of the storybook monies. Each of you should have a copy in front of you.”
    There was a rustling and all the heads went down.
    “If you were on a committee,” I went on, “you’ll notice one thing—”
    “Half our stuff is gone!” Tina said. “Where’s my suggestion for a zip line? And what about the climbing wall?”
    “Where’s the line item for purchasing instruments?” Carol asked. “How can we build a strong music program without instruments?”
    I’d known there would be objections, which was why I’d met with the rest of the PTA board an hour earlier to review this pared-down list. There had been grumblings, of course, but they’d seen the necessity.
    “What both committees handed in was a wish list,” I said. “Even if we spent every dime of the storybook money, the PTA couldn’t afford half the total items.” To my left, I could feel Claudia stir, so I kept talking. “We have to be realistic. We have to be wise and we have to think of what will most benefit the children of Tarver, the children of today and the children of the future.”
    “Exactly,” Claudia said into the pause I’d created when I stopped to draw in a breath. “That’s why—”
    I gave up on getting a full breath and kept going. “That’s why I approached the Tarver Foundation with this.” I tapped the paper of short-listed projects. “The two top projects are new playground equipment and the hiring of a part-time music teacher for a minimum of five years. The next projects are an irrigated soccer field and the creation of a summer arts camp.”
    The original lists had gone on and on. Accessible playground equipment. Hiring a full-time art teacher. A disc golf course on school property. A swimming pool. Having weekly dance instruction. Bus trips to Milwaukee and Chicago for everything from attending professional sporting events to attending ballets. The estimated dollar amounts had made my eyes bug out and I’d almost crunched both lists into cat toys and e-mailed the committees to start over again.
    But I’d walked away from the fantasy lists, then gone back to them a few hours later with a fresh viewpoint. I’d told both committees they wouldn’t get everything they asked for, and had told them so more than once. I’d been on the fine arts committee myself and had had to rein them in from pie in the sky.
    Now I put down the list and looked at the audience. “Yesterday I had an appointment with the Tarver Foundation and I have some good news. The foundation has agreed to match our funds. If we choose, we can fund all four of these projects.”
    There was a short moment of pregnant silence, and then the room filled with applause and cheers and shouts of joy. I heard “Atta girl!” and “Bet even Erica couldn’t have done that,” which made my head swell with pride until I heard Claudia mutter to Randy that “If it’s that easy to get money, why haven’t we done it before?”
    When the noise started to subside, Rachel Helmstetter waved for recognition. “Not to rain on anyone’s parade, but you said ‘
some
good news.’ Does that mean there’s also some bad?”
    “Not bad bad,” I said. “Not exactly, anyway.”
    The energy in the room whooshed out so fast I thought my ears might pop. What had been a happy band of PTA