Family 101: You Ain't Dressed For This Affair

This is Advice From Unk — the section of The Human Player where I tell you what nobody else will. Today: what you wore to your kid's graduation told them more than you think.

I took a bus down to Virginia for my niece’s graduation in mid-June. My sister was on her way home from work to pick me up. I had just finished ironing my suit and dress shirt — it was an elementary school graduation, but I still felt inclined to style on em.

My sister walked in and saw my suit hanging to the side.

“You’re wearing a suit?” she asked.

“Yeah. What’s the problem?”

“Nothing. It’s not going to be that type of event. Most people don’t dress up, so I don’t want you to get there and say, ‘Why didn’t you tell me I didn’t have to dress up?’ I’m dressing up though!” She laughed and walked off.

Then she walked back in. “We’re Haitian. We dress up for everything.”

I laughed because it was true.

I put my suit on. Navy slim fit, white shirt, no tie, and boat shoes to keep a more casual feel.

We parked the car and walked inside. I eagerly scanned the room to see how other men were dressed: polo shirts, cargo shorts, t-shirts, sneakers, baseball caps, Jordans.

My brain kept processing what I was seeing. Time passed and I spotted two other men in full suits. I wanted to yell out and acknowledge them.

The ceremony started. The fifth graders walked in — a lot of them dressed up. Girls in dresses and boys in dress shirts and slacks. I even saw a kid in a full suit.

My eyes got watery as my niece’s name was called onto the stage. Graduating symbolizes growth. It was important and humbling to see her succeed.

The graduation ended. We took photos, hugged, said our goodbyes. I looked around some more and seeing what family members wore weighed on me.

I admit I’m conservative and old-fashioned about a lot of things. I don’t judge people’s choices. But I do think about what those choices signal to the people who are always watching — the kids.

The next morning I was getting ready for a jog and Lupe Fiasco’s “Lupe The Killer” shuffled into my ears. The line “and you ain’t dressed for this affair” hit and everything connected.

Children are impressionable. They spend day after day with us, absorbing how we move through the world. They watch us dress in different clothes for different occasions. They’re building a mental map of what matters based on what we do, not what we say.

On this one day that is specifically about them — a day that acknowledges their work and their accomplishment — family members show up wearing the same things they wear to Walmart.

That just seems wrong.

People get new outfits for New Year’s Eve. They dress up for parties, for dates, for brunches, for concerts. But their children’s graduation doesn’t clear that bar?

Adults forget the day is for the younger generation. When you put on something special, you’re not performing — you’re reinforcing an idea. You’re telling a child that graduation, education, and achievement are different from a regular Tuesday. That this moment matters. That they matter enough for you to be uncomfortable for a few hours.

Everything you do is being processed in their brain, consciously and subconsciously. That’s not a theory. That’s how human development works. Children don’t listen to your words about the importance of education — they watch your behavior and draw their own conclusions.

What’s more telling are the parents who make their kids dress up but come completely dressed down. The message, whether intended or not: “This day is important for you, but not for me.”

That doesn’t seem right.

I hate suits. I feel good in them, but I’d much rather be dressed like I’m getting ready for a jog — I’m usually always itching to run. But for family and for kids, I’ll sit uncomfortably for hours in something I’d never choose for myself, just to let them know that this day and every day like it that follows is extremely important.

We should all want to hammer in that message.

Your kids aren’t going to remember your speech about working hard in school. They’re going to remember how you showed up when mattered.

Always show up like it matters.

✌🏿.

This is Advice From Unk, a section of The Human Player. Blunt, caring, no filter. If this hit home, share it with a parent who needs to hear it. Subscribe for more.

Posts drop every Tuesday. Start the week with yourself, and then let other ideas influence you.

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