John B. Marek is a storyteller with dirt under his nails who weaves tales inspired by a lifetime immersed in nature. His insightful essays and award-winning fiction delve into the complexities of sustainable living, the heart of rural communities and the thrill of outdoor adventure. You can find more of his writing at johnbmarek.com. He recently published a new short story titled “A Sliver of Moon” and you can read it for free here.
It’s back-to-school time, which means two things: the traffic in our neighborhoods is about to be delayed by big yellow buses, and every store, from Dollar Tree to Harris Teeter, is chock full of school supplies.
Equipping younglings for the first day of class is more daunting than it was in my day. For most of my elementary school years, school supplies comprised a couple #2 pencils, a folder, crayons and a Big Chief. The Big Chief writing tablet, with its distinctive red-orange cover and logo of a stoic Native American warrior, is a nostalgic emblem of childhood for many. Generations of school kids practiced cursive and solved math problems (carry the one!) on the newsprint-quality pages. Some have argued that the texture of the paper creates the smoothest transfer of pencil lead. As a “lefty,” I can confirm it capably transferred the pencil lead from the paper to the side of my hand.
Created by the Western Tablet Co. in St. Joseph, Mo., in 1906, the Big Chief tablet quickly became a staple in classrooms across the nation. The wider lines compared to standard ruled paper made it ideal for young learners practicing printing and cursive writing, and the inexpensive paper kept the price low. Originally costing 5 cents, they were still just a quarter 50 years later. By the late ’60s, when I was a buyer, the price had risen to 35 cents, just a bit more than a gallon of gas. The tablet’s popularity soared throughout the mid-20th century, becoming synonymous with elementary school. It was famously the preferred writing tablet of aspiring author John Boy on the TV series “The Waltons.”
Despite its enduring appeal, the Big Chief faced challenges as the educational landscape evolved. Competitors rose, with the Goldenrod tablet the Pepsi to Big Chief’s Coke. In the latter part of the 20th century, the rise of specialty spiral notebooks and elementary-student-oriented binders featuring popular themes and characters cut into the writing tablet’s market share. The increasing use of computers and tablets in schools finally drove the nail in Big Chief’s coffin. Production of the classic tablet ceased in 2001.
However, the spirit of the Big Chief lives on. Thanks to a resurgence of interest in retro and vintage items, the iconic writing pad has made a comeback. For those yearning for a piece of Americana or looking to introduce a new generation to this classic school supply, a Big Chief tablet can be purchased on Amazon for the not-so-modest price of $5.99, plus a hefty $4.99 shipping fee. While it may surprise many to learn that a simple writing tablet can command such a price, the Big Chief has undeniably achieved cult status. I’m actually surprised they haven’t marketed a Big Chief iPad cover.
You can also purchase an authentic, vintage, unused Big Chief tablet from various sources on the internet. A version from the 1940s is listed on eBay for $50, while one from my era runs about $30.
Of course, no discussion of something called a “Big Chief” would be complete without mentioning that some people argue such imagery perpetuates harmful stereotypes and misrepresentations of Native American cultures and that using Native American imagery for commercial purposes without proper respect or understanding is cultural appropriation. While I understand the concerns raised about the use of Native American imagery, I cannot agree that the Big Chief tablet is inherently harmful or offensive. Of course, my high school was called the Redskins, and I once wore a jacket with a similar image embroidered on the back, so I may not be the most impartial judge of such things.
With its iconic image and wide-ruled pages, the Big Chief tablet has left an indelible mark on generations of learners and writers. It’s more than just a piece of stationery; it symbolizes childhood, creativity and the joy of discovery. As we navigate an increasingly digital world, we need to cherish these tangible artifacts of our past. The Big Chief tablet is a piece of our collective story, worthy of appreciation and preservation.