Coming to terms with clothing.
I first entered the classroom as a
teacher in the Fall of 2000. I was a 24 year old college graduate who was being
allowed to teach college in order to help pay for graduate school. At the time
that made perfect sense to me. Now I wince at the idea of a person in his or
her twenties, who doesn’t even have a Master’s degree, being allowed to teach
college classes. Besides the university at which I taught during graduate
school, I’ve never worked at a place that made extensive use of graduate
students in the classroom. I dressed pretty much the way I’d dressed in college
with the exception that I now tucked my flannel into my jeans and buttoned it
up instead of letting it hang open. That was also basically the way they
dressed.
I did a lot of things like they
did. I went to the same bars and coffee shops and never felt weird about that.
I enjoyed the same websites and television shows as they did. Sometimes, during
a lull in the semester I’d walk the streets where the “party houses” were and
walk in and have an enjoyable time. I was also a student, albeit a “graduate”
student, so I still complained about professors, worried about grades and due
dates and got frustrated with the requirements of my program. I didn’t act or
dress that differently than my students because I wasn’t that different from
then.
While I was in graduate school, styles
changed, but I didn’t. I was still pretty much dwelling at the nicer end of the
grunge era. Students’ choices in clothes were changing. Off the rack designer
clothes became more popular. Hoodies, with the name of the designer,
fraternity, sorority or sports team replaced flannels for every day wear.
Students also started to wear what they deemed “nicer” clothes from time to
time too. That was where the problem came in.
I’ve never cared a huge amount
about clothes. I prefer not to be seen in public wearing a pullover t-shirt. I
still, however, love flannel. However, any button down shirt is fine with me. I
wear jeans or comfortable, casual slacks. I often wear a suit jacket or sport
coat nowadays, but not really a “suit” as it would be understood in a business
context. I’ve always understood the need for ties and dress shoes for job
interviews and big presentations, but would never spend a huge amount of money
on such things. My very “best” clothes all come from thrift stores. The rest
come from big box retailers. I almost never set foot in a traditional “department
store.”
My students, for almost a decade
now, really do spend a lot of money on clothes. It is nothing for them to spend
$15-$25 on a t-shirt. $80 pants are common. The amount they say they spend of
shoes blows my mind to the point that I don’t actually believe them. I know how
much they spend because every once in a while they mention it. Generally one
compliments another and then the other explains where they got the clothes and
how much they cost.
That’s all fine and dandy. My
students spend more money on clothes than me. They also drive more expensive
cars, eat at more expensive restaurants, have more expensive phones and
computers and refuse to make use of the free, public transportation offered to
them. They’re idiots, but they’re young. I used to blow a lot of money on cigarettes.
Clothes are healthier.
The thing about clothes, however,
is that it is one area where it puts me in an awkward position as a speech
teacher. I deal with clothing three times during the semester. When I hand out
the syllabus, I explain that they should make sure that they have clothing that
is “a little better” for speeches. When I talk about delivery and nonverbal
communication, I talk about “what your clothing communicates.” When I talk
about decorum in the context of ethos, I talk about “fitting and appropriate”
clothing.
Then students give their speeches.
Inevitably, there will be many who wear a t-shirt and jeans. I don’t really
dock them for this exactly, they just don’t get any extra points. In many ways,
I see a t-shirt and jeans as fitting the classical rhetorical concept of
decorum when speaking as a college student in the early part of the 21st
century. Then I have some who come in wearing their pajamas or workout sweats.
I generally dock them just slightly. Then I have a few who will put on the
sport coat, the tie, the dress shoes. I tend to give them extra points.
Then I have one other set. They are
usually women. On normal class days, they wear jeans and a t-shirt. Then, for
the speech day, they decide to “dress up.” Dressing up, however, does not quite
mean what I expect them to mean. Let me describe for you a student who did this
today. She wore makeup, which she doesn’t usually do to class. Her hair was
done in a braid across the front to hold the rest back. She was wearing earrings
and a matching necklace. She wore a blouse with a deep v-neck. The blouse was
designed so that the three buttons right at her chest were to be buttoned. The
lower half of the blouse was designed to be tied in a knot, in order to expose
the midriff. She had her belly button pierced and a chain, which matched her
necklace and her earrings, dangled from the piercing down to her belt. The belt
surrounded a tight-fitting, black, shimmering skirt that did not entirely cover
the thigh. Thus, bare skin was exposed until just below the knee when a pair of
long, black, high-heeled boots, made out of the same material as the skirt, covered
her calves and feet completely.
Not my student, but you get the idea
I rewrote the previous paragraph
four times before I realized a philosophical trap in even writing about it. I
was trying to objectively describe her clothing without objectifying her.
Unfortunately, “objectively” and “objectify” sound similar for a reason. Describing something objectively is the means
by which one objectifies it. A more subjective description, saying that the
clothing was “more appropriate for the nightclub than the classroom” (which is
what I wrote on her evaluation) would not have conveyed the precise
difficulties with the clothing in question.
And that becomes the difficulty in
explaining to the student a couple of points docked for clothing. I know that
it will be a difficulty for the student because she obviously was wanting extra
points. She was thinking about “dressing up” for the extra points that she knew
others had gotten when putting on better clothes than jeans and a t-shirt. I don’t know whether or not the student will
contest the grade. When a student doesn’t contest his or her grades, teaching
stops with the evaluation. So, the good teacher in me hopes that she will
demand some kind of explanation. There is another huge part of me that hopes
she doesn’t because it is always awkward. Students come to a number of
conclusions, none of which are correct.
- Dr. Cline doesn’t like me. This is a common complaint when anyone receives a poor grade. It is almost never true.
- Dr. Cline doesn’t like girls. Women, on average, get higher grades in my classes. That is because, on the whole, they are more dedicated than males. It is these particular students who dress inappropriately who get worse grades.
- Dr. Cline likes me, you know what I mean? This is my biggest fear. I think it is every male professor’s biggest fear: the idea that a student will think I am a dirty old man being turned on by some young woman’s attire and taking out my frustrations on her grade. Either a positive response, that such attentions would be welcomed, or negative response, that such attentions are sexual harassment both concern me.
- Dr. Cline thinks I’m ugly. I am NOT saying “You look disgusting! Cover it up!” I am saying that this is not what one should wear for a speech.
- Dr. Cline thinks I’m a scarlet woman. Of course, that’s not the language which students use, but I don’t use the words they do. I’ve had students to whom I’ve recommended less social clothing think that I am commenting on their morality. In general, I have no idea what my students moral feelings are and I like it that way.
- I have dressed too informally for a speech. I’ve had students whom I have corrected in this way then take the next step up and appear in formal gowns the next time.
- I have overdressed for a speech. The problem isn’t really over or under dressing. It is the clothes for the time and the place that matter.
- It was the belly button piercing. Or the skirt, or the shirt or any particular part of the ensemble. No, it was the appropriateness of the whole.
- Dr. Cline is just old fashioned. I don’t think this is the case. I think that even as society has changed there remains a difference between business clothing and evening clothing.
- Dr. Cline is just a prude. Maybe. I don’t know. Still, I think that awareness of such prudishness in the general population will help you in life.
What will probably happen is she will just take the grade
and shut up, but I worry.