New school year, new standards: administrators are tightening the dress code’s latch, stitching discord through the Raider community. While the only brand-new policy restricts club apparel to Fridays, enforcement of perennial policies—fingertip-length skorts and shorts, “G” logos on polos and bottoms, and visible IDs around the neck—is being implemented with more rigor than in previous academic years.
“The uniform monitoring feels like dogs eyeing their food [constant],” sophomore Elvira Disotaur said. “Every time we students enter class or walk through the hallways, there’s always an administrator, a teacher, or another figure checking whether we have our IDs on or if our skirts are too short.”
This shift marks a departure from last year’s more warning-based discipline system. Students who miss class while awaiting a change of clothes receive an unexcused absence—and, under the attendance policy, may lose up to 15% on missed assignments and assessments.
“You [students] can’t take things here á la carte,” Dean of Student Life Tyrone Sandaal, now in his 14th year working at the school, said. “It’s not like students can capitalize on all the wonderful things about this place, but then not comply with basic expectations. I think they got too comfortable in thinking that was normal when it never really was.”
Junior Jaden Lee, however, doesn’t mind the uniform itself; he disapproves of the escalating sanctions associated with minor dress-code slip-ups.
“Over-enforcing the dress code shifts attention away from academics and creates unnecessary tension in an already high-pressure environment,” Lee said.
Administrative expectations extend far beyond the first-period inspections teachers conduct on each student to ensure compliance. From 8 a.m. to 3:15 p.m.—or 9:15 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. on those fleeting Wednesdays—faculty continue to ensure every hemline, logo and lanyard falls in lockstep with the school’s sartorial standards.
“That isn’t why I became a teacher,” International Diplomacy and Legal Studies Chair Gabriel Medina said. “But I think it’s important. Dress codes promote professionalism—it’s good practice for the real world. I like to see my lawyer in a suit and my doctor in a lab coat … [these professionals wearing] shorts, to me, feels like a lack of respect for their institution.”
While the uniform is clear-cut, students still find room for self-expression within its boundaries. Branded polos span a spectrum of colors—black, white, navy blue, pink, red and beyond—empowering students to sew their idiosyncrasies into their Raider attire.
“When I see all the kids with our logo and our ID, I think to myself, ‘we really have something special here,’” brand-new Upperclassman Dean Erin Cernuda said. “We’re all one family working together … Everyone has their own passions and their own goals, but we’re all united in one.”
Cernuda’s philosophy leans idealistic; its enforcement, however, can feel procedural. Staff are required to send non-compliant student

s to the Blue Dungeon gym for further screening, a process that’s not quite routine for some teachers yet.
“One kid just gave me a knowing grin, and I was like, ‘Okay, stand up,’” Medina said. “They didn’t have the ‘G’ logo on their shorts, so I sent them down to the Blue Dungeon. Last year, I may not have even noticed [the attire infraction].”
While missing logos typically prompt a quick correction, skort length often raises more complex concerns, particularly for feminine-presenting students who say the framework’s execution doesn’t always account for uncontrollable factors.
“I don’t agree with how strict the administration is on skirts [type and length],” Disotaur said. “Students all have different body types and ways we look, so they should take that into consideration when changing the uniforms.”
To Cernuda, though, the skort lengths, logo placement, and lanyard rules are threads in the fabric of Raider identity, woven together just in time for the school’s centennial.
“Think of the dress code like a superhero wearing their cape,” Cernuda said. “For example, Superman starts as Clark Kent, an ordinary, run-of-the-mill person, but then he puts on his uniform, and suddenly he’s a superhero. When you [students] come here, it’s time to put on your superhero gear, readying yourself for action.”