http://www.dailycomet.com/article/2...gs-onetime-popular-mementos-losing-popularity
By Kevin Simpson
The Denver Post
Published: Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 4:06 p.m.
Last Modified: Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 4:06 p.m.
DENVER — At East High School’s lunch hour, a few students find their way to a folding table lined with small white boxes of tradition.
Veronica Roybal, an 18-year-old senior, opens hers to find the class ring she ordered — nearly identical to one her mother wore.
“I found hers a couple of years ago and wanted to wear it,” Roybal says, “but her hands were too small and it didn’t fit me. Still, I love my high school and want to represent it well.”
Although Roybal reflects the kind of passionate tie that drives some students (or their parents) to shell out an average of $350 for a class ring, many others regard it as a rapidly receding tradition.
“It’s something your parents did,” observes Morgan Smith, 17, a junior. “It doesn’t have the significance it used to.”
For many students, high school no longer represents the social focus of years past. Increasingly mobile populations churn student bodies and dilute even long-standing traditions. Remembrances of school days move in and out of vogue.
And there’s the economy, of course.
“I’d love to tell you sales are up,” says Rosslyn Kennon, office manager for the Denver franchise of ringmaker Jostens. “But it’s definitely a luxury item, one of those things that people are maybe going to pass on. Still, there’s a lot of interest.”
Some schools simply have a stronger history of ring purchases. Some have kept the ring option as a senior-year rite of passage, while others have expanded the option to juniors and sophomores and even freshmen to widen the window in which they’ll actually wear the rings.
New schools often prove fertile markets amid the excitement of establishing new traditions. And some parents still pull out all the stops in anticipation of the graduation milestone.
In fact, Kennon says, the local office sold its most expensive ring ever this year — a $1,350 piece featuring diamonds and 14-karat gold.
But recognizing tough times, companies have rolled out layaway options, easier payment plans and a mind-boggling array of designs that personalize rings by recognizing everything from athletics to activities to ethnic heritage. Jostens even introduced a line of political-party engravings after it decided to offer one recognizing Barack Obama as the 44th U.S. president.
“It’s definitely not your mom and dad’s class ring,” says Kennon. “The options are limitless.”
Anna Nitschke remembers buying her class ring in 1968, when it seemed everyone had one. They were all identical — the same aquamarine stone, with “Bulldogs” emblazoned on the side.
Now, as secretary and attendance clerk at Moffat County High School in Craig, she helps organize the ordering process and senses slowly declining interest. Part of that reflects current economic woes, but she also sees kids nowadays pursuing such diverse interests that the trappings of high school have lost their cachet.
“I just think a lot of things were more important then than they are now,” Nitschke says. “To me, it was kind of a tradition; everybody had class rings. It was something to be proud of. I got it as a sophomore and wore it probably until the year after I graduated. Then it went in the jewelry box, where it sits today. But I still have it.”
Tim Callahan, who has operated a Balfour ring franchise in the Denver area for more than 30 years, says he sees sales rebounding after a five-year lull — but he has no idea why.
“I keep hearing about the bad economy, but sales are up and kids are buying more of the high-end product,” he says. “Is it the best year I’ve had in the business? No, but I feel blessed.”
He says market penetration tends to be higher in rural communities because of their smaller, tightknit nature. But even some of those schools have noticed fewer kids on board with the tradition.
Tawni Gribben, who helps handle ring purchases at rural Burlington High School near the Kansas border, believes interest has waned — just as it has for another mainstay of high school life, the letter jacket — over the past few years.
Cost seems to be one driving factor, she says, noting that her son seemed ambivalent about the idea earlier this year with the economy being so rough. Companies offer rings from around $50 — even Walmart has joined in — but precious metals, high-end stones and various add-ons can push the price significantly higher.
“He could have gone either way,” says Gribben, who still cherishes her ring from the Class of ‘84. “But I wanted him to have one, and then he got excited about it. I think he decided he might regret it later if he didn’t get one.”
At Fort Collins High School, the class ring and, for that matter, the letter jacket appear to be relics of a bygone era, says athletic director Rob Larson, who oversees the ordering process.
Although some kids, but fewer than in years past, may buy them as keepsakes, class rings are rarely seen at school.
“The ring is not that ‘in,’ per se,” Larson says. “They’d rather wear a T-shirt or hoodie with the school logo and mascot on it.”
One notable exception: When Fort Collins won the boys 5A state soccer title, the players jumped at the chance to commemorate their title with a specially designed ring — even though the cost was comparable to the average class ring.
Larson speculates that several factors influence class rings’ eroding popularity — perhaps most significantly, a more mobile society.
“Fifteen years ago, you’d grow up in a community and go kindergarten through your senior year in that town,” he says. “Classmates meant so much. Now, with the global economy, so many families moving in and out, the buy-in isn’t as big. That’s a big piece, the fluidity of our population.”
He really sees the shifting shape of school memorabilia at homecoming, where alumni from decades earlier mingle with current students.
“We’ll get some alumni from the ‘40s and ‘50s, and they’ll wear their letter jackets because it means something to them,” he says. “It’s funny to see that, and then look in the stands, and none of our kids have them on or have that class ring. It’s funny to see that generation gap.”
But there’s no such gap between Ollie Bass and her daughter. Bass purchased her ring from the Tennessee high school where she graduated in 1974, and in the foyer at East High School she stands admiring the just-acquired class ring of her 16-year-old daughter, Sharice, a junior.
Although tradition holds that mostly seniors purchase rings at East, Bass bought her daughter’s as just another incentive for her to work hard over her last year and a half in high school.
“Getting this ring encourages me to do well in class,” says Sharice, who can’t think of any classmates who bought one. “I got it now to give me an edge on what I need to do to graduate.”
Tee MacDonald, director of student activities at East, says the school has been trying to revive the tradition, but these days class rings aren’t the easy sell they were in 1979, when she proudly purchased her own. “I think it’s trying to make a comeback,” she says, “but it’s trying to make a comeback in a hard time.”
By Kevin Simpson
The Denver Post
Published: Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 4:06 p.m.
Last Modified: Wednesday, December 2, 2009 at 4:06 p.m.
DENVER — At East High School’s lunch hour, a few students find their way to a folding table lined with small white boxes of tradition.
Veronica Roybal, an 18-year-old senior, opens hers to find the class ring she ordered — nearly identical to one her mother wore.
“I found hers a couple of years ago and wanted to wear it,” Roybal says, “but her hands were too small and it didn’t fit me. Still, I love my high school and want to represent it well.”
Although Roybal reflects the kind of passionate tie that drives some students (or their parents) to shell out an average of $350 for a class ring, many others regard it as a rapidly receding tradition.
“It’s something your parents did,” observes Morgan Smith, 17, a junior. “It doesn’t have the significance it used to.”
For many students, high school no longer represents the social focus of years past. Increasingly mobile populations churn student bodies and dilute even long-standing traditions. Remembrances of school days move in and out of vogue.
And there’s the economy, of course.
“I’d love to tell you sales are up,” says Rosslyn Kennon, office manager for the Denver franchise of ringmaker Jostens. “But it’s definitely a luxury item, one of those things that people are maybe going to pass on. Still, there’s a lot of interest.”
Some schools simply have a stronger history of ring purchases. Some have kept the ring option as a senior-year rite of passage, while others have expanded the option to juniors and sophomores and even freshmen to widen the window in which they’ll actually wear the rings.
New schools often prove fertile markets amid the excitement of establishing new traditions. And some parents still pull out all the stops in anticipation of the graduation milestone.
In fact, Kennon says, the local office sold its most expensive ring ever this year — a $1,350 piece featuring diamonds and 14-karat gold.
But recognizing tough times, companies have rolled out layaway options, easier payment plans and a mind-boggling array of designs that personalize rings by recognizing everything from athletics to activities to ethnic heritage. Jostens even introduced a line of political-party engravings after it decided to offer one recognizing Barack Obama as the 44th U.S. president.
“It’s definitely not your mom and dad’s class ring,” says Kennon. “The options are limitless.”
Anna Nitschke remembers buying her class ring in 1968, when it seemed everyone had one. They were all identical — the same aquamarine stone, with “Bulldogs” emblazoned on the side.
Now, as secretary and attendance clerk at Moffat County High School in Craig, she helps organize the ordering process and senses slowly declining interest. Part of that reflects current economic woes, but she also sees kids nowadays pursuing such diverse interests that the trappings of high school have lost their cachet.
“I just think a lot of things were more important then than they are now,” Nitschke says. “To me, it was kind of a tradition; everybody had class rings. It was something to be proud of. I got it as a sophomore and wore it probably until the year after I graduated. Then it went in the jewelry box, where it sits today. But I still have it.”
Tim Callahan, who has operated a Balfour ring franchise in the Denver area for more than 30 years, says he sees sales rebounding after a five-year lull — but he has no idea why.
“I keep hearing about the bad economy, but sales are up and kids are buying more of the high-end product,” he says. “Is it the best year I’ve had in the business? No, but I feel blessed.”
He says market penetration tends to be higher in rural communities because of their smaller, tightknit nature. But even some of those schools have noticed fewer kids on board with the tradition.
Tawni Gribben, who helps handle ring purchases at rural Burlington High School near the Kansas border, believes interest has waned — just as it has for another mainstay of high school life, the letter jacket — over the past few years.
Cost seems to be one driving factor, she says, noting that her son seemed ambivalent about the idea earlier this year with the economy being so rough. Companies offer rings from around $50 — even Walmart has joined in — but precious metals, high-end stones and various add-ons can push the price significantly higher.
“He could have gone either way,” says Gribben, who still cherishes her ring from the Class of ‘84. “But I wanted him to have one, and then he got excited about it. I think he decided he might regret it later if he didn’t get one.”
At Fort Collins High School, the class ring and, for that matter, the letter jacket appear to be relics of a bygone era, says athletic director Rob Larson, who oversees the ordering process.
Although some kids, but fewer than in years past, may buy them as keepsakes, class rings are rarely seen at school.
“The ring is not that ‘in,’ per se,” Larson says. “They’d rather wear a T-shirt or hoodie with the school logo and mascot on it.”
One notable exception: When Fort Collins won the boys 5A state soccer title, the players jumped at the chance to commemorate their title with a specially designed ring — even though the cost was comparable to the average class ring.
Larson speculates that several factors influence class rings’ eroding popularity — perhaps most significantly, a more mobile society.
“Fifteen years ago, you’d grow up in a community and go kindergarten through your senior year in that town,” he says. “Classmates meant so much. Now, with the global economy, so many families moving in and out, the buy-in isn’t as big. That’s a big piece, the fluidity of our population.”
He really sees the shifting shape of school memorabilia at homecoming, where alumni from decades earlier mingle with current students.
“We’ll get some alumni from the ‘40s and ‘50s, and they’ll wear their letter jackets because it means something to them,” he says. “It’s funny to see that, and then look in the stands, and none of our kids have them on or have that class ring. It’s funny to see that generation gap.”
But there’s no such gap between Ollie Bass and her daughter. Bass purchased her ring from the Tennessee high school where she graduated in 1974, and in the foyer at East High School she stands admiring the just-acquired class ring of her 16-year-old daughter, Sharice, a junior.
Although tradition holds that mostly seniors purchase rings at East, Bass bought her daughter’s as just another incentive for her to work hard over her last year and a half in high school.
“Getting this ring encourages me to do well in class,” says Sharice, who can’t think of any classmates who bought one. “I got it now to give me an edge on what I need to do to graduate.”
Tee MacDonald, director of student activities at East, says the school has been trying to revive the tradition, but these days class rings aren’t the easy sell they were in 1979, when she proudly purchased her own. “I think it’s trying to make a comeback,” she says, “but it’s trying to make a comeback in a hard time.”
