in times of tragedy and sorrow, i find it easiest to identify an appropriate escape and just hide. it is soul healing to focus on the whimsical and lighter side of life. may we all follow dorothy’s lead and slap on a cute outfit, red heels and get on down the road.
i can remember the first time i experienced anger related to being brown. it was the end of 10th grade and Rodney King had been on the news all weekend. i returned monday to my small private school in Austin, Texas. it was in advanced english i felt comfortable enough to address the subject. to my shock and awe, not one student know what i was referring to…white privilege had kept their tv’s on mtv and showtime, all weekend. even after i explained what had happened, i didn’t get the reaction i was expecting…
the fact that he was possibly a drug user/drunk driver didn’t register with me. what was glued to my mind was the image of him going up and down on the ground as he was beaten. the police seems to gain pleasure and momentum with each strike. day one of kindergarten lets the average person know that 1.hitting isn’t ok 2.one against ten is not fair.
this is my first memory of the term, “police brutality”…so sad those two words are ever linked. watching the recorded violence and seeing the live action violence changed me. is this how people protest? will looting heal Rodney’s wounds? was it really the Korean shop own’s fault? have ‘we’ (brown citizens) ever gotten this angry when the beatings came from other brown people? south central los angeles is a pot of boiling violence and injustice – the King beating was the tipping point.
our wounds have not been allowed to heal, the police continue to violate citizens and it is documented on smart phones. from Baton Rouge to Chicago, being brown is dangerous for your health. one can not assume that the police aren’t targeting other sections of society, it is just that it isn’t being recorded and broadcast.
violence has only one color, ugly. it shouldn’t be worn by anyone – ever!
the infatuation occurred at age 6. sitting in the dark with smuggled saltines and bologna with the red rim, mesmerized by cinderella on the big screen. this rare summer afternoon outing with my sister and mom sparked my eternal affair with foot wear. i didn’t even blink, as the small mice sewed the dress, the fairy god mother to slipped the glass shoe on cinderella’s small anamated foot – i fell in love.
for a majority of my life, i struggled with obesity. my fashion was on my feet. shoes always fit and never judge. shoes elevated my spirits and kept me grounded. when my spirits were down, my soles were not. the higher the better. i liked buckles, straps, laces and studs.
a shoe, heel, sandal or loafer can transport your attitude. it can transform a look. it can translate.
“one shoe can change your life” – cinderalla