When I picked up my son, Levi, from school last Thursday, he climbed into the backseat without saying a word. He usually won’t stop talking about recess or what he traded at lunch, but that day? Silent. His little face looked tight, like he was holding something back. It wasn’t until we got home that he finally handed me the note from the principal. Apparently, his haircut “violated dress code standards.” I stared at it, confused, because Levi’s haircut is the same one his uncle—my brother—wears. A clean, short military cut. High and tight, nothing extreme. Levi told me his...
Continues…