A baby-faced Aggie’s outlook on BYU’s Beard Ban…
I don’t think a chiseled jaw line would have gotten me to BYU…but too much pride could keep anyone away.
May 2012 was the last time I was clean shaven. A few days ago I realized that it had been nearly five years since I’d seen my chin. So I lathered up, pulled out a razor to make sure it was still there. When I looked in the mirror I saw more than just uneven sideburns. I saw the face I would have had if I attended a Church School. BYU’s ban on beards may have been a contributing factor for this Mormon to find education elsewhere, but I can say the fear of having a naked chin isn’t what turned me into an Aggie.
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Looking at my fuzz-less face in the mirror I wondered why attending BYU would require me to forgo a facial feature I’m fully fond of. I know the church’s intention isn’t to make some men feel less attractive…so why?
The honor code at the BYU exist for many reasons. Like ensuring that campus is set apart from the rest of the world. Or respecting the tithed money used to run the institution. But, I think pride is often overlooked as a reason why the honor codes exist.
My personal values fall in line with the majority of the honor code. So except for having a naked chin, following the rules wouldn’t have been difficult for me. I remember myself saying on a few occasions “Those are rules I’m happy to follow, I just didn’t want to be told to follow them.” Ding, ding, ding, that’s my pride talking. It may be harder for some than others, but sometimes a little pride needs to be sacrificed in order to get a sweet blessing.
Other universities nationally ranked alongside BYU require a different form of sacrifice — money. Those universities tuition costs are five to 10 times higher than BYU’s. I’d say saving 30 grand on tuition might be worth giving up a little pride. Even if it means shaving my face, never being able to go barefoot, and sitting down at ecclesiastical interviews.
Luckily for my beard, I didn’t have a desire to attend BYU. I wanted a different experience. I did still have to swallow some pride, because few things have humbled me like watching a DMV worker punch a hole through my beloved Idaho drivers license.
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