SHAFFER: More than a fashion accessory: shoes prove almost necessary for everyday life
As I shuffled my way across concrete sidewalks and asphalt drives through a thin layer of fast-melting snow, my feet left small pinpricks of blood on the ground behind me.
As an advocate of the for-profit TOMS Shoes company, I participated in One Day Without Shoes on Tuesday for the second year in a row. While many areas in the U.S. reach 60, 70 and even 80 degrees in the beginning of April, Michigan offered snow flurries, scattered clouds and mid-40-degree temperatures.
Still, I ditched my shoes and made the trek from my house on South Franklin Street to Moore Hall for my first class through the light dusting of snow on the ground.
I didn't stop at Moore Hall. From there, I spent the day walking across and around campus sans shoes.
It only took five minutes into my first outdoor walk for the pain to start throbbing through my feet.
As the proud owner of more than one pair of TOMS Shoes, I have supported the one-for-one business model since I first heard of it.
For every pair of shoes a customer buys from TOMS, the company will donate a similar pair to a child in need in an underdeveloped country.
TOMS hosts its annual One Day Without Shoes event every year to promote awareness about, essentially, how much it sucks to not have access to shoes.
Shoes had always been something I never thought twice about. It wasn't until I walked through snow, rain, slush, 30-degree temperatures and rough asphalt for an entire day straight that I realized how much I depended on my shoes. At that point, I could only start to understand the difficulty a person without footwear faces.
I still consider myself lucky. Mount Pleasant has paved sidewalks and carpeted buildings for my bare feet to use. Underdeveloped countries often have neither.
My feet felt the most pain they have felt since April 8, 2010 — the last One Day Without Shoes. Tuesday left the soles of my feet black, white and red with dirt, dead skin and blood. There were small rocks embedded in the ball of my left foot and a gash on my right heel — I think I stepped on a shard of glass.
I had spent the day trodding on chewed gum, discarded cigarette butts and bird droppings.
But at the end of the day, I felt oddly satisfied. I did not want to trade the pain in my feet for the experience I had gained.
After all, as the saying goes, the best way to understand someone's position is to take a walk in their shoes — or lack thereof.
