By Aly Gordon ’13
Imagine: As you walk down one of the high school’s many crowded hallways, a peculiar sight catches your eye. A student—sporting an unusual trench coat and a sly expression on his face—hands one of his peers a cupcake, quickly accepting a crumpled dollar in return.
Upon witnessing this curious scene, one question lingers in the back of your mind: Could the high school really have a baked goods black market?
The answer, at least for now, is an unfortunate no. However, with the recent passing of Senate Bill 10 and the subsequent banning of bake sales; sugar-craving students, myself included, have certainly considered investing in this illicit business. The new law, which prohibits the sale of unhealthy foods in Ohio’s schools, will promote nutrition across the state.
Or so they think.
I have faith that students will find a way to indulge in their favorite treats. In fact, I know. “The man” can take our bake sales, our vending machines—but he will never take our cars. Canes, Graeter’s, Donatos– all of which are within 2 miles of UAHS. Do they really think that a simple law will suddenly make us eat healthily? Please, talk to me after I finish my Frosty.
Sugar deprivation is not the only dilemma facing the UAHS student body, though. Clubs are suddenly faced with an unnerving prospect: we must fundraise outside the comfort of our beloved bake sale tables. This means that as a club member, you must use your brain to unearth new methods of fundraising: a task which at times seems perilous.
Some clubs used to depend heavily upon bake sales; however, others are ahead of the game, organizing events that defy Newton’s Laws of Fundraising. The Sudan Club, for example, has held a chili cook off, a dodge ball tournament and a walk-a-thon, raising a total of $4800, according to the club’s advisor, Mark Boesch.
Even though these events are an effective means to profit, they have one drawback: time. Bake sales, plain and simple, are fast, easy and of course, delicious.
Walking down the main hallway, I used to always look for a table topped with an assortment of goodies. Now, though, all I see is a bare, incomplete space. We, the student body, need to fill this void– this empty feeling in the depths of our grumbling stomachs. What we need, my friends, is a baked goods black market.