Uniforms & Dress Code—Does It Suit Us to Suit Up?

One morning astir with preliminary pedagogical errands—or check-ins, if you may, I laid witness to my teacher detaining her advisee, clad in a pristine T-shirt, and recommending him to sew on a “frocket” later. As steadfast as I am to the school, I was amazed by the call for such rigorous cooperation, especially when involving a term with a dubious existence.

A few weeks later, I wore a similar plain shirt and received an official infraction. Lachrymose, despairing, and gazing at my “Conduct” panel on the Cooper website, I suddenly woke up and realized I just had a heart-wrenching nightmare of violating my school’s dress code.

Though being someone with the policy better memorized than Spanish vocabulary, I occasionally found myself pondering the possibility of a different Cooper, complete with its own green-and-white uniforms and no rigmarole of enforcing the Handbook every Day 4 or so. Ever since the rude awakening, both literal and metaphorical, I began to question whether or not this vision lives beyond the notion that they look quite fashionable. 

Nearly 20% of schools in the United States require students to wear uniforms. Being an independent, college preparatory school, Cooper’s circumstances would not be met with incredulity if it were to jump on the bandwagon, from a statistical standpoint. The more dominant agent of obfuscation is undoubtedly the attitude of the community, especially considered holistically as much as possible.

The Upper School Handbook asserts that it intends to “maintain consistency in dress, minimize the importance of ‘dress competition’ and introduce students to the idea of dressing appropriately for college and career settings.”

A system with uniforms attains these objectives in a more austere manner. Its appeal partly lies in its sweeping eclipse over the limitations of a dress code. The infinite gamut of fashion choices inarguably creates infinitely many blunders over the rules, while they could be condensed to only one—a rather neat number. Mrs. Machnizh, a social science teacher with a rich international teaching background, shares that throughout her career, she has believed that “uniforms were a good thing because they make life easier for students. And teachers, because then nobody’s running around being the dress code police.”

Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication, and it is rational to assume that such sophistication does not frequently blossom from the wardrobe. Ms. Concienne of the English Department concurs. “As an adult human,” she claims, “I love them because I would like them, because I don’t want to think about what I have to wear.”

The teachers illustrate how the dilemma of uniforms is marked by a dualism of interests. “For the youth, I think, you know, what a time to be an individual.” Ms. Concienne adopts the reverse perspective unhesitatingly. “Seems like a bummer, unless you’re not into fashion, in which case… it’s fine.”

It is given that uniforms have the potential to bolster Cooper’s policies. However, this stringency may not seamlessly integrate into the cordial environment that adaptably envelops each student in substantial support and tolerance. Clothing can physically manifest the characteristic unity of the community, yet it would paradoxically interfere with the school’s meticulous accommodation to each individual. We would be compelled to assume every individual is, in this case, a fashionista.

“I have mixed feelings on school uniforms.” A student in the Class of 2024, Katelyn Eveland, articulates her ambivalence, an inevitable mentality for most people. “I think that somebody should be able to wear what they feel like they’re comfortable wearing, but also I think that uniforms are probably a better way to keep dress codes in conduct so people aren’t wearing offensive pieces of clothing or something that isn’t very proper for our school attire.”

Abby Ryan had researched the perplexities of these school policies as part of an English project. She points out practical disparities: uniforms can be financial burdens and will not always fit, and there is still concomitant punishment for simply being unable to wear them. “And being dress coded for these reasons happens, statistically, more often to people of color and LGBTQ students,” Ryan adds.

Generally, she believes in the efficacy and fairness of more lenient dress codes, such that schools are not “using them as an excuse against female students, because [saying] their clothing is ‘distracting the boys’ only takes away from their class time, implying their education is less important.” To her, it does not mean they should not exist—only that they should never function to discriminate against genders, ethnicities, or sexualities.

The question of uniforms and its spells of oscillation may continue to befog individuals. Nevertheless, consensus can be found at the foundations of the idea. “I understand the need for a dress code, because I think some students may need some help making wiser choices with their clothing, with what they choose to wear to school,” Mrs. Machnizh finishes with a chuckle. Whether or not uniforms are contemplated, there are few qualms about the validity of the current system, a product of punctilious refinement through the years.

Over the whirlwind of possibilities, social polarities, and ambiguity, it remains axiomatic that Cooper and its leaders complete their due diligence in maintaining a comfortable world within the campus. After all, our dynamic, variegated body of students and staff is what constitutes a fascinating community; it can surely be expressed through attire, even within the ambit of the dress code. Its guidelines construct a civilized and well-ordered environment that still distinguishes Cooper from other schools without the need of specific uniforms, but sometimes just a shirt with a sewn-on “frocket.”