My female students tell me that they would much prefer wearing pants to skirts and dresses. They say that pants are far more comfortable and more suitable for P.E. and playing on the monkey bars during recess.
Are uniforms sexist? I don’t think so.
That argument is going too far and it causes girls to think of themselves as victims when they aren’t.
Having said that, I hope that girls are given the option of wearing school sanctioned trouser options so that they can feel comfortable at school. They may not be victims, but there is still an opportunity there to address their comfort needs.
The debate about whether or not it’s sexist has heated up in recent weeks:
Cultural learning senior lecturer and psychologist Amanda Mergler pointed out in her piece on The Conversation that some parents felt requiring their daughters to wear dresses and skirts was outdated and amounted to gender disadvantage.
To this, I say piffle.
Dresses are not passe. Skirts are not discriminatory or symbols of sexism. They do not limit female power or confidence.
And having our boys and girls dressed the same — as boys, effectively — does not make them the same.
They are not, never should be, and clothes do not make the man (or woman). Celebrate difference, because difference between genders does not mean better or worse and schoolchildren should not be encouraged to see themselves as a homogenous, genderless blob.
Dresses are not by their nature sexualising creations.
Dresses and skirts are cooler in the heat of summer, have more wriggle room for wearers and are more easily kept looking neat.
But there are naysayers. A Journal of Gender Studies paper published in 2013 said dresses and skirts as school uniforms “ritualised girling” and affected the performance of the wearer.
Proponents of homogeny say dresses require girls to be more demure, and to walk, run and sit differently.
Dresses have a habit of ballooning in a breeze and girls are always at risk of showing their underwear.
The anti-dress brigade also argues dresses make girls more quickly available sexually. Yes, they seriously say that.
It is not sexist to wear a dress, just as it is not sexist to call someone a woman, as if by saying that, it is all she is. It is discriminatory to act as if wearing a skirt delegates that person to a lesser station, which is effectively what is contended by Mergler.
This is political correctness gone loopy, a distraction from the core issues around school uniforms. Surely, they are about practicality, appropriateness and, because this is a world where we seem to require it in every facet, choice that are subjects of discussion, not whether girls should wear dresses.
School uniforms have a long tradition in Australia.
They level the playing field and stabilise a school’s community branding. They provide certainty at a changeable, important time in a human’s development. They are here to stay.
The focus in the school uniform discussion should be about climate and occasion appropriateness. And given school should be a relatively formal, learning-focused place, surely discussions should hinge on practicality and comfort, as well as presenting an appropriate public face of the school.
I think school uniforms should not be overly fashionable and not because of a dislike of fashionability or disregard for style, but because a school’s core purpose is the delivery of learning experiences.
And if skirts are done away with in coeducational settings to mitigate the risk of sexualising females, it follows that girls at same-sex schools would be left out on a rather provocative limb.
I attended an all-girls school in Brisbane. We wore unflattering dresses for lessons and unattractive skirts with undershorts (never to be seen in public except on the playing field) for sport. We were told how long they had to be.
The uniform and the rules are the same at that school today.
We were constantly told we were girls, or young ladies, that we must act with integrity and modesty, as all young people should. The uniform regulation was uniformly unforced.
Sure, our box pleats meant we had to take special measures in stiff winds and deal with sweaty, slidey seats in summer. And yes, we were forbidden from sitting cross legged on the ground in public, lest the good name of our school be erased in a thoughtless flash.
Fair enough. We were girls and girls wore modest dresses and skirts to school. No contest. If we didn’t like it, we could leave.
It was a slice of life and we expressed ourselves elsewhere and in other ways.
I am old enough to recall a time when female members of the public who attended Brisbane City Council meetings were forbidden from wearing pants. I also recall a female journalist in the 1980s attending in slacks to push the envelope and make a point. She was excluded.
And a public relations firm in Brisbane forbade its all-female staff from wearing trousers in the early 1990s.
Those who require such things now enforce the wearing of a uniform to get around claims of discrimination.
Surely the point now is that choice is key, not demonising the dress and skirt as old-school, sexist creations that are vehicles for lust and degradation?
Please, let common sense prevail in any discussions about school uniforms.