Beautiful Feet (Part III)...

This was written in March of 2009 for my Sacred Feet: Pathways to the Soul class. I am grateful for the women who shared their feet stories with me...

My fascination with feet, and the relationship with black women and their feet was prompted by the following quotation from bell hooks’ 1993 book Sisters of the Yam: Black Women and Self Recovery:

Another area of the black female body that receives little or no focus, but usually indicates the degree of body self-esteem, is the fact. Recent studies on women and shoes reveal that the majority of women in this society stuff their feet into shoes that are at least one size too small. Many black women have large feet and again find it difficult to find reasonably priced shoes. Yet even the black females among us who wear regular sizes also abuse our feet by stuffing them into shoes that are uncomfortable or too little. Since many black females have learned if we are to acknowledge that the happiness and comfort of one’s feet in daily life are crucial to well-being. This unlearning can begin when we pay attention to our feet. (hooks 92)

If care of our feet speaks to care of our whole selves, I wanted to know if hooks’ findings about care of feet, care of self, and shoe selection were still true 16 years later. I interviewed 25 African-American women, whose ages range from 18-73 (avg. 39 ), occupations range from student to anesthesiologist, and shoe sizes range from 6.5-12W (avg. 9). I asked the following questions: Age; Occupation; Shoe Size; How do you feel about your feet?; Do you care for your feet? If so how?; When it comes to shoes do you opt for comfort, style, or both?; What is your shoe of choice?; What is one word that describes your feet?; How many hours a day do you spend on your feet?; What is your most memorable feet memory?; and How do you feel about yourself?

My limited research speaks volumes about the nature of reeducation and self-care among African-American women. In fact, JW (73) cited her best feet memory as the healing of the gangrene in her toe as a result of a blocked artery. Since the healing she has not only cared more for herself, but she “diligently” cares for her feet.

On the subject of self-care, eighty-eight percent of women surveyed, do care for their feet. BS, a wise twenty year old, noted, “Of course I care for my feet. When your feet hurt, your whole body hurts.” 60% of the women surveyed get regular professional pedicures. The students I surveyed get professional pedicures when funds allow, but in this economy they have taken to caring for their own feet. All of the women who care for their feet mentioned a daily routine of drying in between the toes and slathering with cream. Other care includes foot massages and reflexology. For some the self-care is year round, while for others the idea of baring their toes in flip-flops or sandals in the summer months increases the likelihood that they will get a pedicure.

Speaking of flip-flops (the shoe of choice for summer months), the women I surveyed have an equal love for sneakers and stilettos! The sneaker is an obvious choice—32% of the women surveyed spend between 2-10 hours/day on their feet, and 28% spend more than 10 hours/day on their feet. Younger women (under 30) cited sneakers or flats as their shoe of choice. The thirty and forty-somethings are the stiletto lovers. Not surprisingly, the women over fifty cited flats as their shoe of choice. DS (56) even cited being barefoot as her shoe of choice!

While hooks’ observation that “ Many black women have large feet and again find it difficult to find reasonably priced shoes” still rings somewhat true today, the women I spoke with overwhelmingly choose shoes, regardless of kind, based on comfort first and style second. Gone are the days, especially for women 35 and older, of stuffing feet into uncomfortable or cheap shoes. In fact three women specifically mentioned purchasing well-fitting, good-quality shoes as part of their care for their feet. And while BT (21) may sacrifice style for comfort for a night on the town, and TC (33) cannot resist a “bad” pair of stilettos despite comfort level, comfort is important to 92% of the women I surveyed. In terms of shoe selection, retail stores have left much to be desired. KS (34) cites the difficulty in finding shoes that she likes to fit her size 11 feet. DT (56) used to despise her feet because they limited her style selection, but she grown to be “grateful for the large feet that carry this body.”

A large majority of the women I surveyed were, indeed, grateful to their feet, although some were not. The women described their feet in the following ways: beautiful, ten, long, flat, boney, skinny, supportive, deceptive, unpredictable, cute, big, durable, appealing, small, strong, important, painful, friends, sturdy, tired, and functional. While most women love their feet and love themselves, many are learning to love and care for both themselves and their feet. I believe this learning will further elevate the level of self-esteem among African-American women.

Among the most memorable feet stories, were beautiful experiences of digging one’s toes in the pink Bermuda sand, “standing knee deep in mud after a good rain in Mississippi,” using one’s long toes to pick up things off the floor, and a woman who learned to dance while standing on her father’s feet at her aunt and uncle’s wedding. BT (18) loves the way that her feet help her to praise God through dance. DW (31) and LS (32) have fond memories of their mothers playing with their toes as girls, however TR’s (32) mother was so obsessed with her daughter having pretty feet that she pedicured T while she slept. T recalls, “While not pleasant, it brings back fond memories of my mother teaching me the importance of self-care and upkeep.” Two women have feet memories that they cannot “share out loud.” Both women hinted at their feet memories being part of a pleasurable sexual experience. Perhaps they are like KB (43) who was told after a pedicure that she had “suckable toes.” BS (20) is pregnant and cannot wait to “resume unswollen feet.” Perhaps she will shout Hallelujah like Rev. DS (39) who “only had to wait 4 months [after giving birth] to wear a perfect pair of shoes that were absolutely gorgeous.”

What have I learned. Well, we have come a long way since hooks wrote Sisters of the Yam in 1993, but there is still a ways to go. There is certainly a correlation between foot care and self-care/esteem, however, based on my limited research, foot care (and self-care) among black women is on the rise. African-American women who care for their feet and speak positively about their feet, also engage in life affirming behavior and speak like affirming words about their whole selves. At a later time, I hope to continue this research in a more formal way. I believe there is much to be learned about the state of mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual health of African-American women from this kind of query. In the meantime, I’m caring for my feet more, loving myself more, and I just purchased two new pairs of good-quality, well-fitting shoes!

Beautiful Feet (Part II)...

This was written in February of 2009. As vulnerable as our feet are, this letter is equally as vulnerable.

Dear Tootsies (and Pinky, too),

Where do I begin? We haven’t talked much. I apologize, let me rephrase that. I’ve been talking all of my life, but rarely have I taken the time to actually listen to you. I’ve heard you, but I haven’t listened, heeded, or considered what you have been saying to me. In the almost thirty-three years that we have been together, I have only paid attention to you when Pinky bumped up against a wall, bed post, or some other large object whose presence my eyes failed to recognized. Pinky would yell, scream, holler, bawl—so loud that I couldn’t ignore her. Otherwise, I haven’t listened, and for that I am sorry. In fact, it wasn’t until I reread Sisters of the Yam by bell hooks, in 2004, that I even recognized that you need me to pay attention to you. In a chapter entitled “Dreaming Ourselves Dark and Deep: Back Beauty,” hooks wrote:

“Another area of the black female body that receives little or no focus, but usually indicates the degree of body self-esteem, is the fact. Recent studies on women and shoes reveal that the majority of women in this society stuff their feet into shoes that are at least one size too small. Many black women have large feet and again find it difficult to find reasonably priced shoes. Yet even the black females among us who wear regular sizes also abuse our feet by stuffing them into shoes that are uncomfortable or too little. Since many black females have learned if we are to acknowledge that the happiness and comfort of one’s feet in daily life are crucial to well-being. This unlearning can begin when we pay attention to our feet.” (hooks 92)

In few words, hooks spoke volumes about the way in which women in general, and black women specifically, relate to their feet. If I can be honest, when I reread the text, it was as if hooks was writing to me, about me, for me, on your behalf.

In many ways, your presence has always troubled me. Imean, with me being 5’2” and you being a size 10W or 11, you have always had a presence. I’m a short girl. That being said, you should be a size 7 or 8. But you are not, and we are an odd couple of sorts I was always told that from the knees down that I resemble Beaulah Powell, my maternal grandmother. Truthfully, if you take a photograph of both she and I from the ankles down, we are identical twins. That doesn’t sit well with me. My grandmother has never struck me as a glamourous woman. Strong, yes, but never glamourous. Her feet, my feet, are the same-strong, but not glamorous. Her feet walked cotton-fields—thick skinned, rough, spread wide like the fields.

I grew up listening to my momma playing jazz and blues on Saturday mornings while we cleaned the house. Well, Fats Waller’s tune, Your Feet’s Too Big, always touched a nerve:

Say, up in Harlem,
At a table for two,
There were four of us,
Me, your big feet and you!
From your ankles up, I say you sure are sweet,
From there down, there's just too much feet!
Yas!

Your feet's too big!
Don't want ya 'cause your feet's too big!
Can't use ya 'cause your feet's too big!
I really hate ya 'cause your feet's too big!
Yeah!”

All of my friend’s feet cooperate with them, but not you. It’s really hard to be nice when your presence makes me feel mannish, old-ladyish, hard-laborish. I cannot say I’ve ever dated a guy whose feet were much bigger than you are. In fact, I remember being so embarrassed when I found out that Esteban’s feet were not only smaller than you, but much smaller than you. I often wonder if your size contributed to our problems, or maybe it was my brooding over your size than caused issue between us.

Admittedly, I haven’t always treated you right. To guise the fact of your size, I often bought and wore shoes that were too short, too narrow, and too cheap. When I was partying, I wanted to be like Aloma, Stacy, and Kim and wear fiercely high-heeled shoes while dancing the night away. When I started going to church, I wanted to be like Minister L’Judie and Minister Nicola and wear fiercely high-heeled shoes while praising and preaching. And I did, but you suffered. Oh, how you suffered—ingrown toenails, bunions, and rough spots galore. But its not just high-heels that do us in. When ballerina shoes and flats became trendy, I followed along, and quickly learned that flats give Pinky corns and make your instep throb. I wish I could say that the pain made me buy more sensible shoes, but they didn’t. I’ve always been a good dresser—some would even say fashionable—and all I wanted was for you to match my style. To that end, I abused you, and I am sorry.

But your size wasn’t my only source of consternation. In recent years, I’ve come to know that you (and hands, too) suffer from hyperhidrosis. As a child, all I knew was that my feet were always sweaty and smelly. Again, not ladylike if you ask me. Not only were you big, but you were smelly. I feared changing for gym class, because it always meant taking off my shoes. I feared going to someone’s home that required me to take my shoes off. I resent the security checks at airports because it means being outed as a smelly-feet lady. You know I’ve tried everything—creams, powders, special socks, prayer. Just a few months ago I was traveling from Chicago after an exciting trip to the American Academy of Religion conference. I was on an intellectual and spiritual high until I passed through the security check at O’Hare airport. Not only were my shoes smelly, but the TSA officers made faces and said awful things about the smell. I wanted to run away, fast. It was like I was in high-school gym class all over again.

When I began to grow in my relationship with Christ, and was actively engaging in Bible study, my eyes were opened to truths about you. The psalmist wrote, “For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well” (Psalm 139:14). For so long, I hated and abused you. I did not recognize, that you, in all of your large and sweaty glory, were part of my inward parts that were made by God. I did not recognize that you had been covered in my mother’s womb. I didn’t recognize that you, like every other part of me, is a marvelous work of God. Even when my eyes were opened to that truth, I failed to act on it, for it mean forgoing stylish shoes for ones made by Easy Spirit and Naturalizer. I failed to act on it, for it meant not being able spend quality time at Nine-West with my girlfriends.

But more than that, when I answered my call to ministry, you had a totally new significance to me. The Apostle Paul, quoting the prophet Isaiah, spoke about the importance on the feet in the preaching of the Gospel. He wrote:

“How then shall they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in Him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher?And how shall they preach unless they are sent? As it is written:

“ How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the gospel of peace,

Who bring glad tidings of good things!”” (Romans 10:14-15).

The most significant piece of this writing is the naming of the feet of preachers as beautiful. I’ve never thought of you as beautiful before, but you are. Even your size is a blessing. You are my foundation, you keep me from toppling over, you keep me standing tall. You may look like Beaulah’s feet, but you are mine, and I love you. You may not look be glamoroust, but you are mine, and I love you. I love you because God made you, and gave you to me. I love you because you have anchored me for so long. I don’t have to wear fiercely high-heeled shoes for you to be attractive. I don’t have to be ashamed of your smell (although waking a few minutes early and taking to time to carefully dry every inch of you has alleviated the stink). God says that you are marvelous, beautiful, and who am I to argue that point! So, even now, I vow to treat you like the marvelous and beautiful works of God that you are. I want to be well, wholly well, so I vow to begin with you.

Love,

Donna

Works Cited

hooks, bell. Sisters of the Yam: Black Women and Self-Recovery. Boston: South End Press, 1993.

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Unless otherwise noted, All Scripture references are taken from The Holy Bible New King JamesVersion.

Beautiful Feet (Part I)...

(I thought about changing the name of my blog as I was thinking about writing this posting. Then I started to think about an entire blog makeover. I am still in a time of new beginnings, and since I have a new name, a new look would be fitting. We'll see. Stay tuned)

Speaking of new looks, I have been trying to get my big girl on in my shoe game. Because my mother wasn't a frou-frou, girly-girl heel wearer when I was growing up, I was never that girl who wore heels. OK, maybe not never. I tried for about 2.5 hours, but after the pain and the realization that I didn't know how to walk in the things hit me, I stopped trying. I was older and wiser when I went to Howard, so I didn't worry about fitting in with the girls on the yard as they strutted across campus in their 3 inch heels. But I must admit, as I spend more and more time in the church, I am always amazed by the sistahs who have on a bad pair of heels while getting their praise on! And don't let it be a preaching woman delivering a mighty word while standing tall in her shoes!

But the truth is I have special feet. I have my grandma Beaulah's feet. I have strong feet that hold me up. They are long and wide. And they usually have a hard time finding shoes that they like that like them back. They go for comfort over style because comfort is all they can find. But, this is a new day...

On Wednesday I went into Lane Bryant to buy a gift card. On my way to the register I saw them. They beckoned me, not interested in the fact that I had a task at hand and was on a schedule. They were not alone; there were many. All beautiful. All calling my name. So not to be rude, I answered. There were shoes and booties and boots with calf shafts wide enough to fit my legs. I played with them for a while, but decided I would leave them in the store. That was Wednesday.

On Saturday I still heard them calling. Plus, I needed a pair of shoes for worship on Sunday (long story, not important). So I made my way to to store, picked them up, and left with new shoes, who would become new friends.

Why do I call them friends? I put them on just before 7:00 a.m. yesterday morning and I did not take them off until after 8:00 p.m. last night. They were with me, on my feet, for not one, not two, but three services. I led worship in them. I praised in them. I walked in them. And they felt good. And they were FIERCE! Praise be to God!

At first I felt silly blogging about my shoes, especially after an awesome day of worship. However, this is part of who I am. Plus, I am convinced that my comfortable feet made it possible for my heart, mind, and spirit to be open for worship. There is not greater distraction in the world than to have your feet hurting!

So with that, I will end this post. But look out for part two (and three). As I wrote this I was reminded of papers I wrote for my Sacred Feet class in 2008.