Recently, there has been a flood of student protests against sexist dress codes and I couldn’t be more proud. Last Monday, 100 kids from Bingham High School in Utah walked out of class after a dozen girls were banned from a homecoming dance because their dresses did not comply with the dress code. Students from Tottenville High School in Staten Island geared up for protests last week when a strict dress code landed 200 kids in detention, 90 percent of whom were female. There was even a protest this past spring in Illinois when school administrators notified parents that shorts, leggings and yoga pants were no longer permitted for female students. Like almost all other schools issuing such dress codes for females, they claimed that these types of clothing were “too distracting” for male students.
These stories are all too familiar to me, as I’m sure they are with countless other women and girls. I’ll never forget the first, and only time I can recall being called a slut. It was before I had even kissed a boy and it was by the nurse in my middle school, and no, she didn’t literally say the words, “you’re a slut,” but that is exactly how she made me feel.
On a very hot day, I did something that was completely out of control and blatantly obscene; I wore shorts and a short sleeve shirt that revealed my “cleavage.” I was 12. My teacher received a phone call and told me I had to go to the nurse’s office. The nurse told me I should be ashamed of my outfit and that I had to change. She called my parents multiple times, leaving them messages saying their daughter had come to school in very inappropriate attire and that they had to bring me a change of clothes. I remember feeling nauseous hearing the nurse tell my parents that my “cleavage was exposed.”
I stood in the doorway waiting to ask a friend if I could wear her gym clothes. When the nurse saw me standing, she told me I had to step away from the doorway because “no one was supposed to see me.” It was humiliating. What was I supposed to feel ashamed of? Did they think I was trying to lure in innocent boys by seducing them with my awkward 12-year-old body? God forbid a boy be so entranced with the sight of pale lanky legs that he can’t concentrate in class and does poorly on a test.
The reason I was locked up in the nurse’s office all day is because the school administration was primarily concerned with the minute possibility that my outfit could negatively impact boys’ ability to concentrate. In fact, they were willing to fight this possibility at the cost of adversely affecting my own education. This is just another example of how boys’ education is valued over girls’ education. Who cares if I had to miss almost an entire day of class? At least the boys weren’t distracted.
When school dress codes are created and enforced in this way, it’s degrading to both girls and boys. It sends the message to girls that we should apologize for boys looking at us; that if a boy loses control it’s our fault because we somehow provoked him. Girls aren’t responsible for boys concentrating in class, just like we’re not responsible for boys behaving in bars; that’s their job. When girls are in middle school and high school we’re told to dress conservatively so boys don’t get distracted, then in college we’re told to cover up when going out so as not to tempt predators. How about we stop pretending boys are uncontrollable animals, and hold them accountable for their own actions? Let’s stop sending the message to boys that they are incapable of controlling their urges and making rational decisions.