A Child's Christmas in America

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Yet the new "use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without" philosophy that inspired some of the young in the '60s has not yet kept the kids from being voracious consumers. "Can't really remember what I want for Christmas. There are so many things," said a six-year-old. Remarked her teacher: "It's unbelievable how much they've already had. In their own way, they are looking for their next high."

In department stores, magic sets are big along with ten-speed bikes and all sorts of arts and crafts, including candlemaking outfits. Boys want Evel Knievel ($ 15) as well as Big Jim and Big Jack dolls, and girls ask for Baby Alice, a creature who eats gel, which then comes out on its diaper, and a Barbie doll with a real hair dryer run by batteries ($15). The subteen set also wants records: the Osmond Brothers, David Cassidy, The Jackson 5, Andy and David Williams, and the Carpenters. Unlike their hard-rock counterparts, the young idols come on as shy homebodies, and their songs tend to be sweet and wholesome, like Rick Springfield's latest: "Cos having someone believe in me,/ Is all I need to know."

DECLINE OF RELIGION. In the '40s, the slogan was broadcast nationwide:

THE FAMILY THAT PRAYS TOGETHER

STAYS TOGETHER. But the family has become fragmented, and so has the sense of religious continuity. Today, Catholic parochial school attendance totals 2,870,859 pupils in grades one through eight. That compares with 3,606,168 just three years ago, and some 4.5 million only a decade ago. The American Association for Jewish Education admits to a decline of 17.5% in synagogue class enrollment between 1966 and the beginning of the '70s. In Protestantism, save for the most conservative congregations, church and Sunday school attendance have dropped sharply.

FAILING SCHOOLS. The schools, on the whole, seem to be serving middle-class children well. But in the inner cities, the all too familiar results are dismal. Explains Psychiatrist Robert Coles, who has made a study of the "children of poverty": "Many ghetto schoolteachers will tell you, if you interview them directly, that they see little hope for their pupils. Why, then, make a herculean effort? These children will be leaving school anyway, with little future ahead of them. What a contrast to the warmth and hopefulness of the teacher in the middle-class suburb!" Most schools, says Ron Edmonds, director of Harvard's Center for Urban Studies, act on the theory that "incoming social class is the principal predictor of pupil performance. If the child does not learn, say the educators, then it is not the fault of the school. I do not think it is possible for poor people to change in the way the schools want them to," Edmonds theorizes. "To feed, clothe, sustain a child in conformity to the stereotype middle-class expectations takes more money than most poor people can hope to have. Clearly we arrive at an impasse, given the economic and political reality in this country."

The economic and political reality suffered yet another wrench when President Nixon dismantled the Great Society programs that contained provisions for child development and family services.