'Why should we have to work hard and pay more taxes, just to support a bunch of people who won't work?' demands Leo Bona, an 8th-grade 'lawyer.' A chorus of cheers, from students upset with the 30 percent income tax levied on them, greets his question. Finally a solution to the school's welfare system is found - the dole is replaced with government-subsidised jobs.
The 85 students in grades 5 through 8 (ages from 11 to 14) hold jobs, pay taxes, spend their thalers on goods and services in the school, enforce their own laws, formulate school policy and grapple with the dilemmas of inflation, unemployment and economic slowdown.
'Thaler is not simulation,' says Gilman ex-principal Barry Grove, who developed the system. 'The thaler currency is backed, not by an educator's intentions and fantasies, but by dollars. It's a massive plagiarism of life superimposed on a school, and it gives the students a consciousness of the workings of economics, capitalism and private enterprise - which they need to be successful in life.'
Students also work at jobs generated by the Thaler System: at the Gilman Bank and Trust, the Payroll Department (each student receives a weekly check, with taxes and Social Security deducted), the Employment Office, Licence and Patent, Legal System, Postal Service, Student Tutor Corporation, and two dozen other 'public jobs.'
Other students operate private businesses, ranging from Lynne's Homework Reminder Service to D & M Skateboard Repair. 'Thaler is fun,' says Shawn Maillet, 14, who spends recesses and lunch hours putting his classmate's skateboards in shape. 'Sure, you've got to work. But you can buy things and do things that you couldn't without Thaler.'
'A student may think that he or she is working to buy a hair dryer or to go on a trip,' says Norman Parent, Gilman's principal, 'but they're learning throughout the entire process. As soon as they start handling money and dealing with taxes, payments and interest, there's no way they don't learn maths.'
He tells of one Gilman student who couldn't do anything right and had a poor self-image. The youngster started off with the simplest job in the school - emptying garbage cans in the cafeteria. 'He did it well and won an Employee of the Month award,' says Grove, 'and for the first time his schoolmates noticed him. Now he's risen to foreman, is supervising others and is a new person.'
Grove began to formulate the Thaler System in 1971 while teaching in Maryland. In an attempt to break through the apathy of his 6th grade students, he began offering them challenges and incentives, and was amazed at the way they responded.
He continued improving upon the idea when he moved to a school in Rutland, Mass. However, he realised that he needed a principalship to experiment with his idea. At a Boston placement agency, Gilman, in the northeast corner of Vermont, was suggested.
'I thought I was in Appalachia,' says Grove, recalling the first time he crossed the Connecticut River and drove through the scattering of former company houses that make up Gilman.
Even so, the school board wasn't excited about hiring an outsider who possessed a missionary zeal about a programme with a foreign-sounding name. But Grove received the job of principal at $9200 a year, and in 1976 he began the Thaler System.
Three years later the number of Gilman students on or above grade level in Metropolitan Achievement Tests has increased by almost 40 per cent. Vandalism is non-existent.
Each year, the principal conducts a law course, culminating in a written and oral 'bar exam.' Three quarters of the applicants funk. The highest scoring student is appointed judge, next highest is bailiff, and the others become attorneys. Anyone going to court at Gilman must have a legal representative.
During a recent lunch break, the Thaler legal system was operating. 'All rise,' intoned the bailiff, age 11. 'Court is now in session. Honourable Terry J. Schmidt presiding.'
The junior high school students rose as 7th-grader Terry entered the room in a long, black choir robe. The charge was assault and battery - one student slugged another and broke his glasses - and the cost to replace the spectacles was $28.
The mothers of both the plaintiff and defendant appeared in 'court', after agreeing that the decision of the student jury would be final. The junior high lawyers nervously shuffled papers, as Judge Schmidt banged his gavel for order and the trial began. The jury rejected the defendant's plea of self-defence, and both students were required to pay $14 each for the new glasses.
'One teacher was sued this year for not giving a proper warning before issuing a group punishment,' says Judge Schmidt, 'and one student was sued by his 6th grade classmates for acting up in class - he kept shooting spitballs.'
Despite their new economic and legal responsibilities, the students remain normal adolescents. Paul Gilman is the teenage president of the bank (600 thalers a week). He worked his way up from pay-roll clerk, and now oversees a manager, two tellers and the operations of the bank.
'We had a run on the bank right before the auction,' he says, 'and we almost ran out of money - but we finally made it. Then one girl said she deposited money, but we never found the deposit slip. We gave her the 2000 thalers or we would have been sued.' He agrees that being president of the bank has taught him a lot, but when asked about his plans for the future, Paul replies, 'In some ways I want to be a stock car race driver.'
Perhaps the only frustrated person involved with the Thaler System is Barry Grove, now assistant superintendent at the Jacksonville, Vermont, School District. What's bothering him? It's simply that he can't understand why the programme has not been adopted by school districts throughout the land.