Teacher gifts

Illustration: Tonwen Jones, colagene.com

It’s been years since Brett Berk ran preschools in Park Slope and the East Village, but he’s still haunted by memories of the “cheesy fake Hummel figurines” he got from students’ parents. Each holiday season, the tiny ceramic people would pile up, says Berk, author of The Gay Uncle’s Guide to Parenting (Three Rivers Press). “They struck me as the spawn of Satan—the last thing I would want staring at me,” he says. And so, despite twinges of guilt, Berk did what he felt he had to do: “I invited friends over, and we’d put the figurines in paper bags and smash them with hammers.” Yes, he knows that the fake-Hummel givers were just trying to be sweet. “But anybody who met me for even a second—why would they think I’d want something like that?”

Such questions are on the lips of many teachers at this time of year. Sure, they get some great stuff. At private schools in New York City, it’s not uncommon for parents to give lavish gift certificates or restaurant meals. At public schools—where teachers aren’t permitted to accept more than $50 in gifts per family each year—group presents can be equally dazzling. Reported among the recent largesse, both private and public: spa trips, MP3 players, fur stoles, ropes of real pearls and a $400 gift certificate for Bloomingdale’s.

But for every educator who receives the gift of her dreams, there’s another who eagerly unwraps a package to discover…a hideous tote bag. “It’s a really ugly color, like an army green, and it’s the most uncomfortable thing to carry—it kind of digs into your shoulder,” says one tote recipient, a second-grade teacher on the Upper West Side. “It’s somewhere in the back of my closet. I’ll never use it.”

In an effort to save closet space, teachers often exchange or return an unloved gift (if they’re lucky enough to find a receipt), or rewrap it and pass the burden along. Now and then, they learn to live with the thing—at least for a while. “One of the ugliest presents I ever got—I wasn’t even sure what it was,” says a first-grade teacher in Prospect Heights. “It was just kind of a giant block of glass, and on the top it looked like a fish. It probably weighed 20 pounds. I kept it in my classroom as, like, a class centerpiece, and then eventually it fell on the floor and broke. I liked the kid who gave it to me, so I felt bad. But I don’t miss it!”

Want to give your kid’s teacher something she’ll truly use or cherish? Read our from-the-trenches reviews of typical gifts:

✱ Clothes or jewelry A risky choice. “Unless you know the teacher really well, or have actually been shopping with that person and seen her pick something up and say ‘I like this,’ it’s probably a bad idea,” says a third-grade teacher in Chinatown who’s had her fill of faux-pashmina shawls and pierced earrings for her unpierced lobes.

✱ Kitchenware Again, know the teacher’s tastes before you take the plunge. Note to the West Village parents who gave their child’s preschool teacher an avocado scoop: She wasn’t thrilled.

✱ A well-chosen book for the teacher or classroom. Sure!

✱ Candles, mugs, tchotchkes Forget it. Most teachers’ drawers—and stoop sales—are already brimming with these.

✱ A blank journal No way. To certain teachers, this amounts to suggesting they have actual free time on their hands—which, thanks to your kid, they do not.

✱ Note cards or stationery Great idea. (You’ll probably get one back, thanking you.)

✱ Cash It’s been banned by some schools, for fear of parents’ trying to buy good grades. Where it’s still allowed, teachers’ reactions range from delight (they don’t get holiday bonuses, after all) to discomfort. “I feel like I’m on the parents’ tip list, like a doorman—but I consider myself a professional,” says a middle-school teacher on the Upper West Side. “While I recognize it’s well intended, it makes me feel a little weird.”

✱ Food (homemade or bought) Maybe. But first, do what many parents don’t: Make sure the teacher has no allergies, doesn’t hate chocolate and isn’t keeping kosher.

✱ A gift card It’s every teacher’s favorite thing to get—and somehow doesn’t bother those offended by cash. “Parents imagine you picking out something you like, wanting you to get the right thing,” says the Upper West Side middle-school teacher. “It’s different, it’s nice.” Among teachers’ top choices: bookstores, java joints, restaurants and department stores. “Even if it’s just for five dollars, that’s perfect,” says Berk the Hummel hater. “I’d much rather you spend your money on something like that.”