Neutralizing the offensive T-shirt

By Cindy Reitzi

When I was in middle school, inexplicably, I wore a T-shirt that said, “Help send a girl to Boys’ Town.” I didn’t really want to go to Boys’ Town; I was never ‘boy-crazy.’ The T-shirt started conversations, and I got a laugh from people in the grocery store. So I understand why people like to wear harmless T-shirts to express personality.

But like anything else, someone somewhere will take message T-shirts to an extreme, to taunt something ugly or offensive. Some teens, like some adults, push the boundaries of socially appropriate behavior. Since teens are still learning what’s “socially appropriate” and so, misfire in judgment, I’m usually more patient with teens regarding ethical questions. We’ve all had regretful moments when we’ve asked ourselves,“What was I thinking?” and appropriately felt ashamed when we acted insensitively or perceived something as “funny” when it really stepped over a line. A little guilt at our own misjudgments isn’t always a bad thing.

When I make ethical decisions, I often ask,“Does this action harm or degrade?” Is the issue a matter of dignity, courtesy, respect or insisting on imposing your viewpoint on others?

Some teens do punch my ethical buttons, and I don’t always feel patient because I’m offended as a person. Strangely, some students believe teachers aren’t supposed to feel offended by rudeness to our identities; we’re not supposed to feel angry or sarcastic. Yet, tapping into what offends us is sometimes the best response. Still, as a teacher, I have to carefully temper my response to ethical taunts. One student and his T-shirt come to mind.

I was subbing in English and just as the bell rang, sixth hour, a student quietly twisted into his seat and hunched to read his book, the day’s assignment. After the “here’s-the-lesson-for-the-day” preliminaries, I sat down to a quiet group, noses in books. With a jolt, I then noticed the boy’s T-shirt.

Like a red cape flagging a bull, I snorted, ready to charge. My visceral reaction was to grab him by the scruff of the neck, toss him out of class and demand, “What the hell is wrong with you?” The teacher in me held back.

The T-shirt was a rude twist on an old cereal ad, “Silly rabbit, Trix are for kids.” The bowdlerized version: “Silly (gay epithet), (male anatomical parts) are for chicks.” You get the picture.

Needless to say, it offended me. Pondering, I watched the boy. He did not act like he was trying to attract attention; the other students were ignoring him and reading. Why wear the shirt? To tick someone off, attract attention, or to loudly flaunt his heterosexuality? The teacher in me asked, “How do I handle this?” I could ignore it and make someone else handle it. I could send him to the office for wearing an offensive T-shirt, definitely an infraction of school rules. On the other hand, why hadn’t some other school official intervened by sixth hour? Was he was walking around all day without comment? What message did that send?

Sending him to the office would temporarily solve the problem, but could prompt the anti-authoritarian, “it’s-a-free-country-and-I-should-be-able-to-wear-what-I-want,” “you’re-being-a-clothes- fascist,” free-speech arguments that would simply deflect the whole ethical issue.

Plus, if I confronted him in front of the whole class, he’d also have the audience he might desire and that could backfire as well. So I decided to talk to him just before class ended, quietly. That way, he’d have no audience to put neon lights around his message either. He probably didn’t care what I thought, but he clearly cared what girls thought, since he was so vehemently, yet so cluelessly, proclaiming his heterosexuality.

At the end of class, when students clustered by the door, I called him over. He mildly complied.

“Has anyone talked to you about your T-shirt yet today?”

He smiled.“Nope.”

“Sixth hour and nobody’s talked to you about it?”

“Nope.”

“Well, that’s a really offensive T-shirt,” I commented, “I’m surprised nobody’s said anything.”

“Why?” he smirked.

“One, it’s offensive to women…”

“And?”

“And gay men. I’m offended by your shirt. I could send you to the office for wearing that but I’d rather you thought about this. What impression do you think you give other people by wearing this shirt?”

He gave the standard, cornered response, “I don’t care what other people think.”

“Well… I think you do. Why else are you wearing it?”

Before he could answer, two girls who overheard walked up and confronted him. “You know, we really hate that shirt. We’re really offended by it.”

He flinched but listened. My eyebrows jerked quizzically and I wisely shut my mouth, backing off to give him time to absorb. “Just give it some thought,” I said before he left.

I’ve been polite to this student since our talk and he has acknowledged me, looking a little shame-faced. I’ve seen him many times since, but I never saw that T-shirt again.

November 1, 2006