Shoes

    I was in history class one day, bored out of my mind as ever. As I drifted into the usual slumber, Mrs. Grant put on a video. Learning about the holocaust has always caught my attention, so I watched. (For once. Just kidding I love history but it puts me to sleep) Anyway, at the end of the video it showed a scene from a holocaust museum. The film ended with the image of thousands of shoes piled high in a massive room. This wasn’t just a mound; it was a mountain. Shoes. It was one of the saddest things I have ever seen and I couldn’t really explain to myself why it made me so sad. I could feel that sense of sadness radiate from all of my classmates. I mean, seeing dead salvaged bodies is pretty bad but the sight of thousands of shoes caught our attention. Why?
    I sat down and pondered, for a few hours actually. Whether you’re rich or poor, you have a few pairs of shoes. Disregarding the Jamaican tendency to only wear them when you’re forced to, and the calluses act as rubber soles themselves, you basically wear these shoes everywhere you go. Five days a week, we wear the same shoes, to the same school and go through the same routine. Going to mas Camp, let’s slip on my pair of sneakers because these are my casual pair but later when I hit Ultra I’ll slip on my pumps – you get the gist. These shoes go wherever you go. These shoes essentially experience what you’re experiencing. Let’s say, in a parallel universe, your shoes could talk. “Where did I leave my phone shoe”? “Let’s see, Human. You came through the door took five small paces to the right by the table and went to the kitchen. Check the table”. Convenience at its prime, right?
    But with all jokes aside, shoes aren’t just houses for our little feet or the latest fashion trend. Shoes tell a story. Shoes tell your story. Every stumble you have had or every staircase you have climbed, they have been there. Their soles are weathered by the trekking of your life. These soles are worn by the changing terrain; sometimes you have to get a new pair because you out grow the last pair. Polish, mend, toothbrush tek out di dust fast. Our souls are weathered by the trekking of our lives. Our souls are worn by the constant ups and downs we face; sometimes you out grow things simply because you’ve grown up. Hair dos, bruises, showers in lukewarm water.
   What about those men who were weathered by labor so demanding they were left with no fat between their irritated skin and weak bones? What about those women who lead normal lives until a thing called racism took control of them? What about those children in death camps that couldn’t change the clothes that burst at the seams because growth wasn’t allowed but starvation and hunger were? What about their baldheads, ridded of hair, decaying existences and the awaiting shower of death plumes ready for mass murder? Their bodies were burned and sent as ash floating into the air as if they never existed. That’s what he wanted, right? To have them never exist? Well they did and their decaying, untold stories are piled high, in a dark, massive room.
    Never forget the past and realize what matters, today! This isn’t only specific to the lives lost during the Holocaust but it acts as a reminder for the greater things in life. Millions of shoes means millions of insignificant lives wasted and left to be forgotten. How do you know that this person wouldn’t have been the next, most positively influential person on this planet? It’s hate and anger towards people who were just a little bit different, that stopped us from ever knowing that. So, don’t hate. Stop being angry for people’s qwerks. Embrace them with love and don’t take away their opportunity for mental growth. This is a revolution and it starts and ends with you.

By: Megan Wong