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My “New” Shoes, or Why Teachers Don’t Wear Nice Things

Once upon a time, I taught pre-k.   I loved so many parts of that job, but it did come with what I called my “occupational hazard.”

No, not getting sick all the time from snotty Kleenexes.

Actually, it was having random streaks of marker in odd places.  Something like, “Oh, gosh, I didn’t realize there was a red stripe up the back of my arm!”

For the past, ahem, many years I have mainly worked with intermediate students.  In some ways, it isn’t all that different.  Just yesterday I found myself saying, “Ok, we will not leave the room until all of these used Kleenexes find their way IN the trash instead of just NEAR the trash.”  And it is possible that this year I have both asked a student not to roll around on the floor and had the custodian in my room talking about where to pee and where not to pee.

Don’t ask.

So, another similarity is that I still can’t quite dress the way they recommend in Glamour or Cosmo.  Some skirts just pose really awkward situations when you try to conference with a sixth grade boy who is sitting on the floor reading.   But what does this have to do with my shoes?

Last night at Goodwill (possibly my fav store, but that’s a story for another day) I found some strappy Steve Madden heels.  For $2.  Barely worn.

Of course, I bought them.  Yep, I planned my outfit around them.  And I totally knew better.

It was approximately 2:00 when my memories of Kleenexes all over the floor were pushed aside by the raw, scraping blisters screaming from my toes and the bottoms of my feet.  In fact, even walking across a few feet of gravel to my car (a few hours later, I might mention) seemed more desirable than putting my fantastic shoes back on.

Next time you see a teacher in tennis shoes sporting a streak of pen on her face, you know why.  Just smile and wave.

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