As Simple As Socks

Some of my students are absent minded, and some are just punks. Had it not been for the punk, I would not have discovered the absent minded one. And, as is true in most group environments, one person's actions almost always affects everyone else.

I moved the punk student as my first order of business that morning. I had put up with his shenanigans for about a week, and his protest encouraged me to put him right up front where I had the best view of his socks... Well, of him, but his socks were suddenly very visible. In truth, I am almost always oblivious when it comes to the dress code - it is enough for me to just get through class. Had he been less of a punk, I probably would never have noticed that the socks he put on that morning were black with a wide red wave crashing loudly up the sides of his calves. I have a vague idea of what is allowed in my own dress code and am far from being well versed in the finer details of the student dress code, but I somehow knew that his socks were in violation of the code. The debate that ensued as I confronted him and then took time to confirm in a student handbook became a waste of twenty minutes. I surveyed all the other students' socks and tried to regain order as I discovered the absent minded one in long white socks with black designs stitched all over them. 

Truly, the look of incredulity on both their faces as I told them that they had to go to the office and call their parents to get new socks matched my own at such a rule. It is a rule, though, and I have taken an oath to uphold it. Well, maybe that's a bit dramatic, but I know why upholding the rule is important. A little softening with socks, a little more with sweaters and shirts and...yeah, it becomes somewhat of a slippery slope. I had them take off their socks only to find out that they have to wear socks! It is in the code. And I can almost bet that it was put there because another teacher, like myself, came to the same sockless solution. It is a bit gross, I confess, but I figured it was the best course of action given the dwindling minutes of our already short class period. Since so much time had been wasted, and my frustration was growing, I postponed the battle and waited until after class to drag them before the Dean of students. He had no trouble dispatching both. The punk was told to push his socks down into his shoes and not wear them again, and the absent minded was told to go call his mom as his socks were too long to do the same. And that was the end of my involvement.

Sad and strange that a couple pairs of socks could cause so much trouble and waste so much time. Sometimes I think teaching is a lot like trying to feed a fussy infant. You try to get as much food as you can into its mouth, and you're thankful for what goes in.