The fact that Tuskegee University’s fall dress code generated headlines, heated discussions, hard feelings, and any conversation at all is worthy of note. I ordinarily mind my own business (because I have some), but this topic I couldn’t avoid.
Ironically, I had a discussion last week with my two youngest granddaughters, Maya, 19, and Morgan, 18, about why I believe bonnets, du-rags, pajamas, and such on campus are an affront to our ancestors who expect us to do better, and move the generations forward.
I’m amazed that Tuskegee would have had to create, enhance, and inform students that they’d be held to a higher standard. Surely, the privilege of being in college brings the expectation that whatever you’ve been doing around your high school, hometown, pick-a-place, any place-other-than-your-bedroom, would be different than what you will do upon your admission and arrival at any HBCU or other alphabet place of higher learning.
When I started college as a 26-year-old nontraditional student I quickly learned that if I wore a suit to handle campus business, I got better service than when I wore jeans and a sweat shirt. At my work-study and on campus, I watched how my professors and mentors dressed and handled themselves and tried to emulate their professional style and habits.
NEVER did I leave my home in a head rag or pajamas. I was taught that what you wear inside your home and in public aren’t the same because you’re not just representing yourself. You are lifting as you climb, not distracting and tearing down the progress that has been made. That thinking made good sense so I instilled it in my children and now I’m passing it on to subsequent generations.
We already know whether you’re clean shaven, bearded, bald, with braids, weave, a JayZ-hairdo replica, wearing clean clothes or ones you got from the hamper, the image you present to the world speaks volumes about who you are, how you work, and what you value.
At retail stores that require shirts and ties I look for those employees wearing a pressed shirt and a neat tie instead of those who threw on a wrinkled shirt and ugly tie just to meet the minimum requirements.
I worked in the public sphere 53 years so I understand things have changed. Nevertheless, my mother had one job her whole career and she said her supervisor told her during orientation “dress your profession.” She obviously listened well because no matter how other parents or students looked, we were well groomed, neat and clean. I was always proud of her and my grandmothers –they wore appropriate foundation garments so their clothes looked nice, fit properly, and reflected good taste.
In The Women of Haywood: Their Lives, Our Legacy, a collection of oral histories in Haywood County, Tennessee, one of the four professional African American women interviewees shared that she remembered my grandmother, Orelia, who attended her church. My grandmother had been dead 25 years by this time but she said “Oh, I remember her. She was always so beautifully put together!” Unforgettable indeed.
Finally, nowadays it’s highly unlikely I’ll be on anybody’s campus wearing pajamas, house shoes, rollers, a bonnet or du-rag outside my dorm room, but trust that I will unashamedly continue applauding the efforts of Tuskegee and other institutions whose dress codes prohibiting such attire are plainly spelled out, strictly enforced, and enthusiastically observed.
Cynthia A. Bond Hopson, Ph.D., is a retired executive who served 17 years as head of the United Methodist Church’s Black College Fund. The Fund supports the 11UMC-related HBCU. She is an HBCU graduate, former interim university president, and faculty member.
