Jul 2017
It's before first-period...
My teachers see me walking down the hallway and rudely gawk at my body as if it's some sort of disgrace.
Flash forward...
My teacher calls the assistant principal down to 'approve' my clothes.
I'm sent to the office to find out my mother was on her way.
The same mother who has to work every day to make a living, and to pay for my clothes.
The same mother who's making eighty-one cents to my principal's dollar.
The same mother who taught me to love my body and how to look appropriate.
The same mother who approved and complimented me, only an hour before, earlier that morning.
The bell for the second period rings.
I'm still sitting in the office.
Because wasting my time over what I'm wearing is more important than my education. Right?
I can hear the whispers of my degrading school's staff.
A few higher established adults to an 'outfit check'.
Quickly after, the assistant called my name.
I gulped down my fear and anxiety, as I stood up.
Then I'm sent into a room.
The dullest, dark, and grayest room I have ever entered.
"Hello Lina, we're gathered here to talk about your outfit today."
A tee shirt dress with shorts underneath.
It reminded me of when I was in the fifth grade.
Girls were told that we needed to cover ourselves up because boys thought about our bodies in a ****** manner, and if we dressed a certain way and something happened, it was our fault.
It's getting close to the third period when my mother arrives.
After the constant duel to what seemed, death, with words, I got to go.
I didn't have to change this time.
I was lucky.
Lucky that a teacher came to my defense along with my mother, and told them my outfit was fine, and I couldn't help that I was a curvier girl.
Instead of focusing on what girls are wearing, maybe we should tell boys to keep their hands to themselves and grow up.
Because that's what the girls have to learn from an early age.
Our bodies shouldn't be over sexualized for what's covering them.
Girls are **** shamed and dress coded everywhere because of what we wear.
What if we focused on teaching students to be mature young adults, rather than disgusting pigs who apparently can't handle a girl who shows her shoulders?
Let's all obsess over real world problems.
Not what someone wears, or if it's distracting to boys.
Just when someone starts having confidence (which is a victory in itself), we're torn down based off of the clothes we put on our bodies.
Girls are taught that it's our fault.
Boys can just open and claim your body, like some kind of book.
Even when the only word printed is NO.
We struggle in our bodies from such a young age.
Instead of worrying about a girl's apparel, let's worry about the men who need to learn to control themselves.
My teachers see me walking down the hallway and rudely gawk at my body as if it's some sort of disgrace.
Flash forward...
My teacher calls the assistant principal down to 'approve' my clothes.
I'm sent to the office to find out my mother was on her way.
The same mother who has to work every day to make a living, and to pay for my clothes.
The same mother who's making eighty-one cents to my principal's dollar.
The same mother who taught me to love my body and how to look appropriate.
The same mother who approved and complimented me, only an hour before, earlier that morning.
The bell for the second period rings.
I'm still sitting in the office.
Because wasting my time over what I'm wearing is more important than my education. Right?
I can hear the whispers of my degrading school's staff.
A few higher established adults to an 'outfit check'.
Quickly after, the assistant called my name.
I gulped down my fear and anxiety, as I stood up.
Then I'm sent into a room.
The dullest, dark, and grayest room I have ever entered.
"Hello Lina, we're gathered here to talk about your outfit today."
A tee shirt dress with shorts underneath.
It reminded me of when I was in the fifth grade.
Girls were told that we needed to cover ourselves up because boys thought about our bodies in a ****** manner, and if we dressed a certain way and something happened, it was our fault.
It's getting close to the third period when my mother arrives.
After the constant duel to what seemed, death, with words, I got to go.
I didn't have to change this time.
I was lucky.
Lucky that a teacher came to my defense along with my mother, and told them my outfit was fine, and I couldn't help that I was a curvier girl.
Instead of focusing on what girls are wearing, maybe we should tell boys to keep their hands to themselves and grow up.
Because that's what the girls have to learn from an early age.
Our bodies shouldn't be over sexualized for what's covering them.
Girls are **** shamed and dress coded everywhere because of what we wear.
What if we focused on teaching students to be mature young adults, rather than disgusting pigs who apparently can't handle a girl who shows her shoulders?
Let's all obsess over real world problems.
Not what someone wears, or if it's distracting to boys.
Just when someone starts having confidence (which is a victory in itself), we're torn down based off of the clothes we put on our bodies.
Girls are taught that it's our fault.
Boys can just open and claim your body, like some kind of book.
Even when the only word printed is NO.
We struggle in our bodies from such a young age.
Instead of worrying about a girl's apparel, let's worry about the men who need to learn to control themselves.
This was actually a real experience for me and dress coding is something that lots of young people, or teens, deal with. People need to learn that a girl is just as respectable as a man.
