Formal Wear Friday

Adults: The Kids Have a Lovely Seat For You in The Back

The idea was so simple, so unadulterated, so fun. But then the adults got their hands on it.

Formal Wear Friday was the brainchild of one of my all-time favorite students, Conner. He and his sister Kaitlin are the kind of kids who were ready to be finished with high school long before they got to me during their respective senior years. Witty, worldly, and wise, they each saw the world for all it could be and took steps to make it better on their terms. I’m grateful to have had time with them.

Conner, an accomplished musician and natural leader, thought it would be cool if people dressed up on Fridays, and by dressed up, I mean dressed up. The thing about Conner is there was no pretense, so other than the fact that the idea was a well-kept secret from the staff, he didn’t concoct the plan to cause disruption or to see what he could get away with. Rather, he wanted the school to “look nice” on Fridays. A fun way to end the week and to facilitate kindness through compliments, Formal Wear Friday was an instant hit.

Until it wasn’t.

The first complaint came from a teacher: If he can lead something like this, who knows what he’s capable of.

What he’s capable of.

An absurd and exaggerated response to a notoriously “good kid” trying to leave a positive stamp on the school from which he was about to graduate turned into a veritable witch hunt.

As adults started to pile on, the principal got involved and pulled the plug on FWF. Conner came to me full of frustration and disappointment. I couldn’t explain or rationalize the administration’s decision because I didn’t believe in it, and I wasn’t giving Conner a corporate line. This made no sense, and he had every right to be upset.

By this point, I had a foot out the door of my alma mater, the school I loved so much. As education’s pendulum started swinging in a progressive, student-centered direction, my school remained obstinate, staunchly refusing to accept its inevitable arc.

Ultimately, I have Conner, and his sister, to thank for my leadership style. Creating a culture of “yes, if” rather than of “no, because” really isn’t that hard. Formal Wear Friday could have been so much more if the adults got out of the way and allowed the kids to lead. It could have been a charity drive whereby students who chose to dress up paid a nominal fee, the proceeds of which could have gone to a local animal or homeless shelter. A calendar could have been created to be sold to parents at graduation. A cheesy music video full of tuxedo-and-gown-wearing students could have been posted to the school’s website. But none of these things happened.

Now, I am fortunate to work with a staff that is constantly asking, “Can I?” In a recent post, I paid homage to A Tribe Called Quest and to the countless people in my professional life, like Conner, who are willing to ask, to try, and to risk to move our building forward for our kids.

What Conner doesn’t know is I currently have a fourth grader, whom we’ll call Layne, who routinely wears a tuxedo to school because he feels like it.

Man, I wonder what he’s capable of.