In light of the challenges Black college students face, the debate over Tuskegee University’s new policy prohibiting bonnets and durags is a distraction. Certainly, the black community has bigger fish to fry right now, such as Howard University dropping more than 500 incoming freshmen from its fall roster after they missed a financial aid and enrollment deadline, leaving some in limbo. Or the fact that Black student enrollment has dropped at prestigious colleges and universities following the ban on race-based affirmative action policies. And who could forget the closure of various diversity, equity, and inclusion departments in recent years, and the termination of programs and scholarships intended to expand educational opportunities for underprivileged groups. What students wear to class seems like s small school of minnows next to the whale of a problem we face in racism.
While it’s fair to describe the conversation about the dress code as a distraction, it’s happening whether people are willing to reflect on it or not, just like a guest knocking at the door who refuses to leave until you greet them. Some believe it’s important for Black students to avoid wearing hair coverings such as bonnets or durags, which they consider unprofessional. Others have accused those defending the policy of enforcing respectability politics, calling this shift anti-Black. According to Hakeem Jefferson, a political scientist, “adherents of respectability feel more ashamed about the public view of their racial group.” And they “are more likely to support a range of punitive policies that target group members, including restrictive dress code policies [and ] tough-on-crime policies.” Some feel embarrassed by Black people who wear bonnets and durags, but for the most part, they seem hesitant to consider why.
The concept of professionalism in American society- how employees are expected to speak, dress, and manage their time is rooted in social norms determined by white society. For instance, in a Stanford Review article, Aysa Gray, a professional who teaches college students about the impact of implicit biases related to race, gender, and class, noted that “perceived cultural fit is one of the leading ways professionalism privileges whiteness.” So, in college settings, when administrators prohibit Black students from wearing durags and bonnets to class, they are preparing them to comply with professional standards that appear neutral but, in reality, have historically placed additional burdens on Black people and those belonging to other marginalized groups.
Black girls and women face racial discrimination in schools and professional settings when wearing natural hairstyles. This experience has conditioned many to believe that straight hair, associated with White people, is more appropriate to wear to work and school than curly, tightly coiled hair associated with Black people. Hair discrimination also affects Black boys and men, as highlighted by the 2023 case of Darryl George, a student who faced an in-school suspension and then removal from a Texas high school after refusing to cut his dreadlocks to comply with their dress code policy that prohibited male students from having long hair. While Texas passed the CROWN Act, prohibiting race-based hair discrimination, this case illustrates that Black students continue to face punitive measures due to their hair texture and styles.
Beyond hairstyles and hair coverings, Black people often report feeling the need to code-switch in professional settings, using Standard English in speech and writing and avoiding elements of African American Vernacular English. Due to racial stereotypes, some assume that Black people who use AAVE are less intelligent than those who don’t. As a result, many Black people intentionally change how they speak in professional settings, in an effort to bypass racism they endure. Society scrutinizes Black people from head-to-toe and pressures them to change their physical appearance and even how they speak, in an effort to fit in at school or climb the corporate ladder in their chosen profession. Some assume that if Black people comply with these expectations, they will be spared the discomfort associated with racism and discrimination and thus be welcomed with open arms by those in the dominant culture. The problem is that changing yourself doesn’t guarantee acceptance.
Thinking that how Black people dress will determine whether they endure racism is like thinking how women dress will protect them from sexual assault. It’s understandable that people would consider various harm-reduction strategies. The social expectation for members of marginalized groups to change themselves casts blame on the victims of prejudice, rather than those who’ve engaged in harmful behavior. Black people who dress “professionally” in a Western sense still face racial discrimination. And women who dress modestly still face sexual harassment and assault. It may be reassuring for some people to believe that only people who violate social norms endure hardships, that they’re somehow in total control of their experience. However, compliance is not a reliable shield from prejudice.
Some Black people fear being seen as “too Black,” and even feel second-hand embarrassment seeing other Black people express themselves in ways they feel uncomfortable with. Seeing a Black man wearing a durag or a Black woman wearing a bonnet seems to trigger a deep-seated frustration by some members of the black community. Of course, any policy that requires Black women to show their hair is ironic given that Tignon laws in Louisiana once required Black women, whether enslaved or free, to keep their hair wrapped in public at all times. Fast-forward to the modern era, and many see hair coverings as uncouth or unprofessional. And while some feel they are at their wits’ end in this conversation, it’s worth considering where our standards of respectability come from. In a society where White people hold vast social, political, and economic power, discussions about a dress code are rarely race-neutral. Indeed, some standards are so deeply ingrained in the American psyche that people overlook why certain styles are considered more professional than others.
There’s no denying that the debate over Black students wearing bonnets and durags has overshadowed major problems they face as the Fall 2026 semester approaches. For instance, students whom Howard University dropped from its roster may not receive the financial support they need. And in the aftermath of the Supreme Court’s ban on race-based affirmative action policies, the rate of Black student enrollment at prestigious colleges and universities has dropped. Furthermore, under the Trump administration, anti-DEI policies and limits on race-conscious scholarships have become yet another hurdle for Black students to overcome. They already face evergreen problems such as being more likely to attend severely underfunded K-12 schools. Certainly, these problems that should warrant even more public attention than dress code discourse. Still, this conversation surrounding bonnets and durags isn’t as trivial as it may initially seem.
While Black folks have bigger fish to fry than debating whether students at HBCUs are allowed to wear durags or bonnets, this conversation has sparked a much broader debate about Black people and assimilation in America. While some feel that a rule prohibiting students from covering their hair encourages students to adopt professional standards they can apply throughout their careers, others believe this dress code is anti-Black, despite this policy coming from leaders at a historically Black university. There’s clearly disagreement within the black community, as some believe that a college run and operated by Black people should prioritize their cultural traditions in a way that’s unapologetic. Perhaps, however, it’s too ambitious to believe that any institution within America could wholly separate itself from the broader expectations of white society. Only time will tell.