Kids Find Official Cookie Crumbles Without Payoffs

BOSTON. The golden dome of the Massachusetts State House has witnessed many a late-night debate over momentous legislation ranging from rights of workers to massive public works projects. It has also been the scene of many an afternoon session featuring chocolate chip cookies which, under General Laws chapter 2, section 42, are the official cookie of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

Massachusetts State House

“Getting kids involved in the legislative process is a fun way to teach them about their civic responsibilites,” says fourth-grade teacher Lynn Nichols of the Tony Conigliaro Middle School in Swampscott, Mass. “It’s also a good excuse for a field trip in the spring, when we can barely keep their fannies in the seats.”

“If you vote for the Tokay gecko as the official nocturnal lizard of the Commonwealth, I can get your dad a job at the Registry of Motor Vehicles.”

But as demands on legislators’ time increase, state senators and representatives have had to curtail schoolkids’ easy access to the legislative process and their time.

“Please make the tuxedo the state cat–pretty please?”

“There’s only so much I can do for you kid,” Rep. Martin Flores of East Boston is saying to Jimmy Racunas, who has come to the State House with his fifth grade class from Our Lady of Perpetual Airplane Noise in East Boston to petition for black-and-white bi-color cats–also known as “Tuxedo cats”–to be named the official cat of the Commonwealth. “The tabbies got there first, and as soon as they hear about it, they’ll be all over me like a cheap suit, which I’m already wearing one,” he says.

“You want Jimmy Piersall to be the official bipolar outfielder of the Commonwealth?”

The kids begin to learn the ropes after a while, says Senate Clerk Ronald Giachetti. “First thing you gotta know, is you never go direct to the legislator, you go to his lobbyist. The lobbyist sets up a ‘time’,” a cocktail party fund-raiser, “and you buy a bunch of tickets.”

“Suggested contribution $150? We took a vow of poverty!”

That presents a problem for both teachers, who usually only have subway fare in their budget for the trip to the State House, and for the students, who are not old enough to drink. “If Senator di Presti could promise me action on my Frisbee as the official aero-dynamically supported amusement device of the Commonwealth, maybe I could see it,” says Lloyd Knox, a sixth-grader from working-class Chelsea. “At $150 a pop for a watered-down Coke, I think I’ll pass.”

“I want to thank youse kids for coming. Make your checks out to Committee to Elect Brian McClary.”

As a result, it is kids from the wealthier suburbs who command legislators’ attention and are most successful in seeing their bills become law. “I really like my mom’s new Range Rover,” says Amy Gerstner of affluent Wellesley. “I think it should be the state’s official SUV!”