Let me explain how a pedagogical imperative drove a wardrobe change for my first day of classes this year.
Oscar Wilde isn't the only person to have spoken about the theory of the Mask but he's the one I reference when explaining it to students because of how he embodied it in his life and how well it is captured in the memorial statue erected to his memory in Dublin.
In brief, the theory states that we change the face we show to the world based on where we are and who we are supposed to be within that context. This should not be mistaken for being fake. We all act differently when we are at work (where I am the professorial Dr. DeForrest), out with friends (where I am usually the good- natured Matt), and at home (where I am partaking of the role of husband, father, cook, and handyman). Each identity has much in common with the others but they dress, sound, and speak differently enough that they would appear like a stranger to someone who know me from elsewhere.
My students at Charlotte, NC's only HBCU are often aware of the conscious to semi-conscious way their community has spoken of of this behavior as code switching but are unaware how often they change their masks and are actively surprised to learn other communities face challenges that parallel their own.
Prior to this year, I leveraged the power of the Mask to set an immediate tone for my classes by arriving dressed all in black and only gradually adding color to my wardrobe over the course of a week. The theory that drove my sartorial choice was that the darker colors lent a formality and gravity to the first class meeting and helped students immediately take the class and themselves more seriously. Students who had been in my classes before, and understood the fuller picture of who Dr. DeForrest was and is, enjoyed being ‘in the know’ and watching the reactions my appearance generated. My colleagues were, in general, similarly amused. But even those advocated for other approaches conceded they could not argue with my results.
This year, I didn't dress this way.
Part of the power that an all black outfit draws upon is its echo of the priesthood and of death. This generation of students was scarred by a global pandemic.
They don’t need a reminder — conscious or subconscious — of death.
The students who come to campus now are more serious about their work than before. Their disrupted and distorted academic journey* has left them more in need of a guide than someone who is trying to get them to see their college experience as something other than Animal House or House Party or whatever equivalent kids today are imagining.
So the Man in Black did not come to campus this year. There was a pedagogical need for him to stay away.
I just wish I felt more certain about what kind of guide they need.
Don't fall into the trap of thinking today’s students learned less during the COVID-19 pandemic than their predecessors because they do less well on measurements designed before our lives had been disrupted. They learned different lessons during lockdown and came away understanding and knowing other things.