Column: Backpacks, TikTok, and Trapper Keepers

By Nancy S. Lind

Remember when back-to-school shopping in Stevens Point meant a trip to the old ShopKo on Church Street for a pack of No. 2 pencils, a three-ring binder, and maybe—if you were lucky—a Trapper Keeper?

Those halcyon days of educational simplicity are as gone as the classroom overhead projector at SPASH.

Welcome to 2025, where a task once handled in one afternoon now feels like a retail marathon. Families make the rounds from Staples on Commons Circle to Walmart on Crossroads Drive to Kohl’s in Plover, each stop adding to the growing receipt roll.

The Great Supply List Evolution

Where once SPASD teachers requested “crayons (any brand),” today’s lists read like tech startup wish lists—ergonomic backpacks, laptop compartments, water bottle holders, even phone pockets with charging ports. A backpack is no longer just for books; it’s a statement piece that must check more boxes than a college application.

Plover mom Angela Hartman laughed while juggling two carts at Target: “It’s not just supplies anymore—it’s a whole vibe they’re going for.”

When September Became Fashion Week

Stroll through Plover’s retail corridor in late August and you’ll see it—families comparing styles like they’re curating runway looks. Social media fuels the frenzy, with SPASH students posting “back-to-school hauls” and crafting their “academic aesthetic” before the first bell rings.

SPASH junior Caleb Thompson admitted, “Yeah, we look at TikTok for ideas. You don’t want to be the only one without the ‘right’ stuff on the first day.”

Somewhere between Church Street and Commons Circle, we’ve lost the beautiful simplicity of believing education happens in your head — not just in your backpack.

Plover Preparedness

It’s oddly charming how seriously we take this ritual in our small Wisconsin community. For SPASD students, school is where they spend most waking hours. If the right backpack makes Monday morning geometry less painful, maybe that’s money well spent.

The Extracurricular Economy

The spending doesn’t stop at pencils and folders. Parents budget for cross-country shoes for the Green Circle Trail, band instruments, or robotics kits before school even starts. Local stores have adjusted, stocking gear for every sport, club, and competition.

Stevens Point dad John Miller shook his head: “We space it out—one kid in June, one in July, one in August—otherwise we’d need a second mortgage.”

The Wisconsin Reality Check

Here in Stevens Point and Plover, practicality still rules—gear has to survive both a snowball fight and the walk from Jefferson Elementary home and back. But even the most sensible shoppers are tempted by tech-friendly supplies, sustainable fabrics, and Instagram-worthy styles.

The Local Shopping Circuit

Today’s school shopping circuit might start at Crossroads Commons, detour downtown for something unique, and wrap up at Target for the forgotten odds and ends. It’s a far cry from the one-stop Church Street trips of the past.

From Woolworth’s to Walmart: What We’ve Lost and Gained

Back-to-school shopping has evolved from a quick errand into a seasonal celebration of optimism and aspiration—even here in Central Wisconsin. But as I watch families load carts with supplies our parents wouldn’t recognize, I wonder what we’ve traded away.

That old Church Street trip might have taken 30 minutes and cost $30, but it came with something we can’t buy at any store: the belief that learning required little more than curiosity, a pencil and maybe—just maybe—a really good Trapper Keeper.

Today’s students are more equipped than any generation before them. They’re prepared for challenges we couldn’t have imagined, armed with ergonomic everything and LED-lit visibility. Yet somewhere between Church Street and Commons Circle, we’ve lost the beautiful simplicity of believing education happens in your head, not just in your backpack.

Maybe it’s time to remember: the most important school supply has never been for sale—belief that learning is its own reward, LED strips not included.