Dressing the Part

Though educators have never been renowned for their sartorial splendor - think faded tweed coats with leather patches on the elbows reeking of pipe tobacco and stale grilled cheese sandwiches or rumpled khakis paired with Oxford cloth button-downs with frayed collars - this town seems to bring out the best in how Principals and College Presidents dress.

When I first came to Incline Village, I caught endless grief for wearing tie (especially from the cranky old men who gather at the weekly Bonanza community forum). Among the remarks I endured, and which are fit for publication in a family newspaper, were the following (predictable) impertinences: "Who died?" "Are you getting married?" and "Do you want to add a medal to that tie or a chest to pin it on?"

Now I don't know, or care, much about fashion, and until fairly recently I felt pretty sharp when wearing my polka dot tie with my striped shirt as long as they were pretty much the same color. There were days that my partner burst out laughing when I came down to breakfast and made me go back upstairs to change my tie . . . or my shirt/pants/shoes while mumbling something snide, such as "I didn't know I married a blind man."

Andréa taught me that corduroys are for the winter, that pleats should only be worn by skinny people, and that plaid is a no-no regardless of what color my tie is. I followed her advice halfheartedly and though there were mornings when I still had to endure a breakfast dressing-down, there were other times when I stubbornly stuck to my fashion guns (after all, she also told me about pillow protectors, and to this day no one can convince me that pillows really need underwear).

Despite the couture abuse - ok, some of it deserved - I endured from my partner, one of the fashion statements I stuck to was wearing a tie to school.

For me wearing a tie is a way of honoring the work that students do. In this age when the Euro look (Italian suit and a black t-shirt), saggin' jeans, and bared midriffs pass for fashion, I believe that it is essential that students know that what they do in school is being taken seriously. Though not all students take my ties seriously, I believe that dressing up every day helps to communicate to students that school is important and that the expectation I have of them is that they act professionally and with integrity.

I am not alone: Elementary Principal Frank Garrity, no doubt being used to Alaskan temperatures, favors wide ties and short sleeves even in the winter. Harry Haaser sports the narrow lapels and skinny ties of his younger years and often accessorizes with an American flag lapel pin. High School Principal John Clark, pens stuck in his pocket and a Rotary pin on his lapel, always looks smart in his coat and tie. And last but certainly not least, Paul Ranslow, Sierra Nevada College president, is always a sharp- dressed man; he is rarely without a coat much less a tie, his slacks are neatly creased , and there are even times when Paul's pants and jacket are made out of the same cloth.

While my wife might conclude that, when the five best-dressed men in town are all educators, Incline Village should be suffering from a five- alarm fashion emergency, I would merely suggest that, despite our occasional fashion faux pas, by dressing up Incline Village educators are modeling (not on the catwalks but in the halls) to their students, faculties, and families that education should be taken seriously.

--Steve McKibben
4/9/06