School Days
One sunny day when I was 18, I stood outside Hatfield College at Durham University, and had a moment of blinding revelation. Not as interesting as St Paul’s, but nevertheless…
I realised that I did not like wearing jeans, or any form of trousers. And I realised that there was no reason why I should. So I pedalled back up the hill to my Gilesgate house, changed into a skirt and never wore trousers again. There was no particular reason for my distaste – I was young and thin and I think looked perfectly acceptable in jeans, but I just knew they were not for me.
The only reason I share this with you is because of the number of schools that are changing their uniform policy. Uniform is anyway a peculiarly English obsession, and one schoolchildren will continue to fight against for ever.
‘How can an untucked shirt affect my learning, miss?’ they wail as I, secretly agreeing, enforce the rules.
Polo shirts or collared shirts, blazers or jumpers, ties or no ties… whatever the school’s policy is, the children are bound to whine about it. But the latest craze seems to me to be entirely unnecessary to the point of madness. More and more schools are banning skirts. Some claim that it is embarrassing for girls, visitors and staff if girls sit on the floor in assemblies with skirts that are too short. Others argue that it makes it easier for transgender children if everybody wears trousers. Another reason is because of the apparent craze for ‘upskirting’ – taking photographs up girls’ skirts.
I am not convinced that any of these arguments stand up. First, we have successfully banned mobiles in schools; so we can have no upskirting. Secondly, it seems markedly unfair if the majority of girls who choose to wear skirts are banned from doing so to save the feelings of the transgender minority. At every school I know where there are transgender pupils, they have been free to wear whichever uniform makes them feel comfortable – why are cisgender pupils not allowed the same basic right? Many girls just do not feel at ease in trousers – and school trousers are particularly unappealing.
As for the sitting-on-the-floor problem, I am not convinced it is an argument that can bear any weight. Male teachers have always felt uneasy telling girls to do up another button on their shirts because of the implication that they have been ‘looking’, and the same obviously applies to the knicker-flashers.
But for years I have had a secret second agenda in my teaching. I am paid to teach Shakespeare and Priestley and Blake, but I also feel I am paid to do more. If a girl is sitting inelegantly, I will quietly point it out to her – and she is always receptive. If a girl’s skirt is too short, I will tell her so in a variety of ways – publicly if it is just a uniform infraction but more gently if it is actually revealing. Most beskirted girls wear thick, black tights and sit like ladies. If they don’t, we women teachers should believe in the sisterhood – or cisterhood – and have a gentle word.
Our job in education should be seen as something much wider than teaching the curriculum. We are a key influence in children’s most important years, and we will mark their lives in more ways than you can imagine. The word ‘ladylike’ may be outdated, but the ideas behind it are not. Let girls wear skirts if they want – let boys wear skirts if they want – just ask them to do it tidily. I’d cry if forced to wear trousers, and I’m not the only one.