4  Encountering power

Social conformity drove life in my high school. To be cool, one had to wear certain clothes and to have a ‘flat-top’ haircut (if you were a boy). Only one barber (Carnie) in town did it right. I am embarrassed to admit that I let myself be sucked into this social black hole.

Levi’s were the accepted pants for boys, but social pressure required structural modifications. We ‘needled off’ the double arcuate stitching on the back pockets. Cuffs were considered rank. If the Levi’s were too long, we would fold the excess to the inside of the pant leg, creating a neat seam. Finally, we removed all the belt loops so that our pants stayed up by friction alone. Beltless Levi’s inspired boys to sneak up on another boy from behind, grab the back pockets of his Levi’s, and suddenly pull down his pants. Laughter would erupt.

This game didn’t last long. Mr. Phillips – the Principal at Poly high – quickly announced a change in our school’s dress code. Henceforth, boys would be required to wear belts with their pants. Unfortunately, this meant that many of us would have to buy new Levi’s (or wear other less-cool pants), as all of our existing Levi’s had been de-belt looped.

I’ve never liked being told what to do, and I really didn’t like this new rule. I understood the rationale but thought Mr. Phillips was being arbitrary and exerting his power.

I realized a solution! The material in the top section of Levi’s is folded over, creating a double layer of denim. I made vertical cuts through the inside layer near the midline, threaded a narrow belt through the layers, and buckled the two ends on the inside. I was rather pleased with myself. I had outsmarted the Principal’s unjust rule. And – to my fellow (male) students – I was a young rebel fighting for my constitutional rights.

Mr. Phillips soon called me to his office. He looked at me and said don’t you know that the dress code now requires boys to wear belts?

I said, yes, sir, but I am wearing a belt. And I showed him my hidden belt.

Mr. Phillips just looked at me for a moment and then said: “Ray, remember that you will soon be applying to college and asking me for a letter of recommendation.” End of conversation. Mr. Phillips had outsmarted me.

Before going to school the next day, I found a pair of Levi’s that still had belt loops. I belted up. I was unhappy that I had given in, but I knew intuitively that some battles are not worth fighting – especially when the combatant was smarter and more powerful than I was.

I regret that I never thanked Mr. Phillips for that lesson. He was a remarkable Principal. He went to bat for us.