Converse.

Converse

By Karlie Kauffeld
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 11

Contrary to the firm belief that shoes don’t get sore when they are well used, I am here to tell you we do. I can tell you that as soon as our fabric begins wearing, emotionally we are wrecked. For instance, think about how you felt when you found that first gray hair, and multiply that feeling by one hundred. Then also add physical pain. The belief that threads slowly pulling apart should not cause pain is WRONG. The tough shoes put up with it. You see shoes without toes, or holes displaying the entire side of the foot, those are the shoes that hang on. They say, “As long as we are needed, we shall not give in.” However, there are some shoes that as soon as they have so much as a nick in them, begin to fall apart because they can’t stand the scrutiny. “I just don’t want people judging me because the foot scoffed me on the dance floor, you know? I just can’t handle that!” When I clomp past those shoes I just wish I could spit; they fill me with disgust.
That’s another thing -- I clomp. It just happens to be my verb. Some shoes scuffle, some click. There are stompers and draggers, scrapers, sliders, shufflers, thudders and flip-floppers (I bet you can guess who that verb belongs to). Shoes cannot help it. Our body only allows for certain verbs. Because I’m a clomper, I often hear adults say to the feet, “Stop clomping, you needn’t walk so loudly!” But truthfully, the feet have no control; I don’t either. It’s rather silly. I wish that those humans would get a grip and learn to go with the flow. So, I clomp; deal with it.
Back to the wear and tear on foot apparel. I have walked all through China, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, Austria and the United States. I am worldly. Holes come along with being worldly, and you know what? I love each and every tear. They help me remember all I’ve walked through. The Great Wall, Venice, rivers, castles and cobblestones. I think about how many times I’ve walked up and down the stairs at the feet’s school. I think about pushing on a gas pedal, and tapping while the feet play music. I
think about the brown smiling dog that carries me around so the feet can’t see his smile. I think about running, clompers are not made for running, but running nonetheless. I think about kickboxing, and how ridiculous it made me feel. My blemishes are all a part of me. I embrace them just as I embraced the dirt street of the Chinese village, and the mud when winter finally began melting away.
With every rip, I grow wiser. And so what if you can see more of the socks everyday? Socks are beautiful, they should be displayed -- not as beautiful as shoes of course, but a close second.