There are too many spirit weeks

Publish date: 2024-07-25

The finish line of her daughter’s fourth grade school year was finally on the horizon when a flier from the elementary school appeared in Kiran Malancharuvil’s inbox. SPIRIT WEEK, it declared in colorful all-caps. Again? Malancharuvil thought. Are you kidding me? It was a Friday afternoon, in the home stretch of a demanding academic year, and now she had to prepare her child for another round of themed-outfit days (featuring “Hawaiian Day,” “Red, White and Blue Day,” and “Celebrity Day”) less than a month after they’d finished the last spirit week.

This time, at least, the flier arrived 10 days in advance. Other spirit day announcements might come with very short notice, or none at all: “Most recently, we received a flier home on a Monday about a spirit week that had already begun,” says Mary Poletti-Lappe, a mom of a kindergartner in Missouri. That one was meant to encourage their students, who were in the midst of state testing, she notes: “As if we didn’t all have enough on our minds already.”

What began as a distinctly teenage thing (a high school in Palo Alto, Calif., is widely credited with establishing the first spirit week in the 1950s) has since spread to middle and elementary schools, and even preschools and day cares, where parents might have a hard enough time convincing toddlers to wear pants, any pants, much less thematically appropriate “Pirate Day” pantaloons. A “spirit” event is supposed to be whimsical and fun, and sometimes it is, except when it becomes just one more thing that takes a frazzled parent with a daunting mental checklist to their limit.

Millennial-aged parents might remember a bygone era when spirit week happened once or twice a year, but now it reaches far beyond homecoming revelry: There are spirit themes for Read Across America Week, “Math is Fun!” Week, Teacher Appreciation Week, Black History Month, Women’s History Month, Hispanic Heritage Month, fall festivals, winter holidays and spring celebrations. Some themes are simple enough (wear blue for autism awareness, wear pink to stand against bullying), but others (“Book Character Day,” “Favorite Animal Day,” “Adam Sandler Day”) are far more likely to involve advanced crafting skills or a panicked 9 p.m. Target run.

“Some of it is just wildly specific: ‘Wear a Dr. Seuss hat.’ Who has that just lying around? ‘Crazy Sock Day.’ Socks are expensive!” says Malancharuvil, a single mother and freelance consultant who lives with her daughter outside Sacramento. “I think I spend a good $200 on spirit days every year.”

It’s not that these parents are opposed to fun at school. Ashley Blade-Martin, a nurse and mom of twin 9-year-olds in Tulsa, believes it’s important for kids to have a reprieve from academics. But when she thinks about spirit weeks, she flashes back to December 2021. She had recently broken her ankle; her husband, a professional ballet dancer, was busy performing in “The Nutcracker”; she was trying to prepare for the holidays while recovering from surgery — and her daughters’ elementary school had organized a theme for each day leading up to winter break.

She texted other moms to see if they had Santa tees her kids could borrow for “Holiday Shirt Day,” or if they could help her track down illuminated reindeer headpieces for “Light-Up Day.” She didn’t want to disappoint her kids, who were eager to participate: “I was trying to pull it together for them.”

And she did, ultimately. But the experience felt unnecessarily stressful. “It’s just a lot,” she says. “And it’s hard for parents to keep up with.”

When notifications about holiday-themed spirit weeks come home to Clark Hagen, a father of two preschoolers in D.C., he and his wife feel compelled to make sure all children will be included. Hagen generally likes spirit days, and he loves being involved with his children’s schools. But it can feel uncomfortable, he says, to be the Jewish parent who has to ask if “Christmas Sweater Day” could be reframed as “Holiday Sweater Day” instead.

“I don’t want to have more of a burden put on myself to say ‘Hey, you know, maybe let’s rename Easter-wear to spring-wear,” he says. “That’s just one more email to send, and I don’t want to have to do that.”

It’s not just that these themed events are popping up more often, but they sometimes seem to go on and on. Poletti-Lappe notes that her daughter had two consecutive weeks of spirit days (including themes such as an “Elf Day” and a “Grinch Day,” “with no specifics given either time,” she says) before winter break last year.

Poletti-Lappe says she always makes a point to “drop everything” to ensure that her daughter is ready to participate without feeling left out — but this sometimes backfires: “There have been multiple days during spirit weeks when she’s been the only child in her class to dress up,” she says.

But she doesn’t blame anyone who chooses not to join in, she emphasizes. Spirit weeks are stressful even for privileged families, she says, and “they’re a huge strain on under-resourced parents.”

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Why, exactly, have these themed events proliferated? Quiana Brooks-Curry, a school administrator in Maryland who has worked in public education for 19 years, says there are simply far more calendar events recognized by schools as educators work to be more culturally sensitive and inclusive — and she thinks this is generally a good shift. Not all students can observe Halloween, for instance, but everyone can join in a book character parade.

Brooks-Curry is a parent, too — she’s found herself braiding purple ribbons in her teen daughter’s hair at the last minute, to comply with a purple-themed school spirit day — and she recognizes the demand of these events, but she thinks they’re ultimately worth it.

“On those days, the kids are excited to come to school,” she says. “There are these moments of joy you see in all of them.” Attendance often improves on spirit days, she notes, and disruptive behaviors decrease. “It is a day that feels lighter, and for kids nowadays, they can use lighter. Things are heavy enough for them.”

Laura Scheidt, a school counselor in Maryland who has worked as an educator in elementary and middle schools for 17 years, says schools can also face daunting expectations to offer special activities to students.

“Schools are so hard-pressed to do everything, to check every box, and this is low-hanging fruit that is pretty easy to do — you just have somebody come up with an infographic, and then everything else is basically up to the parents,” she says. “The kids do enjoy it. But I think it has gotten out of control. It’s just too often.”

As a counselor, she says she appreciates the necessity of cultivating a sense of belonging and community at school, and something as simple as having everyone wear the same color can be effective. But for kids already struggling to fit in, spirit days sometimes make things worse.

“I’ve seen it happen where a kid’s costume will be off, or not as elaborate as somebody else’s, and it becomes a way to target them — but usually that kid is already getting bullied,” Scheidt says.

That was Malancharuvil’s 9-year-old daughter, Lily, who found herself immediately excluded by her classmates after a special “Twin Day” was announced in December. The other girls had already been giving her a hard time at school, Malancharuvil says, and when they paired up for twin day, Lily was left out. Malancharuvil tried to help, texting a couple of moms to ask if Lily could join their girls as a “triplet.” The other moms explained that the girls had already bought brand-new matching outfits — so could Lily get those exact same clothes?

The whole episode was disheartening, Malancharuvil says; she thought seriously about letting her daughter stay home from school. After she vented her frustration in a Facebook post, a beloved school librarian said she would be more than happy to dress as Lily’s twin. “She saved the day,” Malancharuvil says.

As a single parent, Malancharuvil says she feels added pressure to make these days successful for her daughter. “There is so much extra guilt being a single parent, and this is just one more thing. It can feel very much like the straw that breaks the camel’s back,” she says. “You can be the parent who doesn’t participate, who tells your kids ‘who cares,’ or maybe your kid doesn’t care. But my kid cares! So here I am, trying to help her feel like she’s a part of it.”

Which means, for the upcoming “Hawaiian Day,” Malancharuvil is planning to repurpose her daughter’s flamingo-print dress (originally acquired for a “Flamingo and Pineapple Day” last year) and a few luau-themed accessories. She’ll help her daughter assemble the right garments for a “Red, White and Blue” ensemble. She might even cave and splurge on a new Taylor Swift-inspired outfit for “Celebrity Day.” And then, at last, they’ll be done with spirit days. Until August.

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There are too many spirit weeks