The good news is that schools have become more professional, more focused and have a clearer sense of their mission than in the past.

The bad news is that in their more professional and goal-oriented approach, they sometimes hurt children in the process.

When the child in John Steinbeck's short story "Junius Maltby" goes to school, he learns something about himself that he didn't know: he's poor. Until he arrived at school, he lived a simple life of contentment, not knowing how different his life was from that of his classmates.

Television probably destroyed that kind of childhood isolation a long time ago. Unlike Steinbeck's character, kids today are exposed to all kind of worlds -- good and bad -- long before they get to school.

We can hope that they look at the material culture that bombards them the way we looked at Star Trek or the conflicted hero, Spiderman -- very interesting, but not real.

Still, like "Junius Maltby," schools remind some kids that they're poor -- they don't have as much as their classmates. And the schools do this via official memos.

Before classes start in September, many schools provide parents with a list of items children should have for next year: folders, binders, calculators, spiral notebooks, crayons, Ziplock bags, etc.

All of them are useful.

But here's the thing: there are families -- and more this year than last -- that cannot afford them.

There's 100 reasons why they don't have the money to buy the objects that will help their kids succeed in the classroom. Surely, some parents have misplaced priorities. But groceries cost more, gasoline costs more, heating fuel costs more, so even careful parents committed to providing for the whole family face new difficulties.

The number of people living in a financial house of cards, wondering how to pay for the tires they'll need for the car to pass inspection, is growing. They don't want a list of more stuff they can't afford.

Children, of course, quickly pick up the stress the list generates. They know, "Why do you need all this crap?" isn't exactly enthusiasm.

Teachers, then, should ask parents to buy only what every family can afford, and even after that calculation, be sensitive to the child who arrives empty-handed. For that kid, we must somehow provide the items, but not teach a Junius Maltby lesson.

There are, however, requests schools can make of parents that are more effective, and cheaper, than a shopping list: time, space, quiet and respect.

Schools should ask parents to: