After we got our ears pierced, M and I thought maybe I’d better check the school dress code for teachers, lest I was headed for termination just for my fun. I didn’t find any prohibitive wording, but I was still apprehensive about feedback from my principals–and eager to hear what my students would say.
It took about five seconds for the buzz to start. As I unlocked my classroom door to let students in, I heard whispers of “earrings.” Throughout the day, girls seemed more prone to extensive commentary, although one boy with a major stutter pointed to his own pierced ear and grinned and several others offered, “Nice earrings.”
One girl–she races lawn mowers–asked, “Why did you get your ears pierced?”
“I guess I felt like it,” I said.
“That’s awesome!”
Another walked into class and said, “Nice bling.” I laughed, and she said, “I planned that; I heard.”
In her assigned “letter to the teacher,” one student wrote, “You don’t seem like the kind of person who would get his ears pierced.”
“What kind of person would?” I asked her.
“Someone in a rock band.”
And student I know from summer school but don’t teach now came up to me while I was on hall duty and said, “Oh, that’s disgusting.”
“What is?”
“You have your ears pierced.”
“So? Yours are pierced.”
“But I’m not a guy. Guys with pierced ears are disgusting.”
I smiled and didn’t tell her that my daughter’s sentiments aren’t very different.
Only two of my colleagues asked me if they’d just not noticed before, or if the piercings were new. My principals, perhaps fearing a sexual harassment or discrimination lawsuit, have said absolutely nothing.