Those Work Shoes

When I worked in downtown San Francisco for the law firm I wore dresses, nylons and those prim and proper pumps. When I worked in Dalton, Nebraska for the educational service unit I wore the basic school teacher uniform of comfortable pants, shirt and rubber-soled shoes. When I worked for the social service agency in Tacoma in the old convent I wore - whatever. When I worked for the hospice in Puyallup I wore good clothes, good shoes, and generally tried to look my best. Well, when I moved to Utah and started working for an early intervention program that provides services to developmentally delayed and disabled children birth to three years old, my shoes became quite important. In this work I make home visits to see children and their parents. My shoe wardrobe now has three seasons: sandals or flip-flops in the heat, slip-ons in the mild weather, and snow boots in the winter. All three seasons have one very important common characteristic: Whatever is on my foot must come off quickly and easily and return to my foot in the same way. Why? Going into people's homes involves, well, going into their home. This means I knock, they open the door, I enter and gaze upon their floor. More often than not it's a beautifully, just vacuumed, immaculate carpet (adhering to the high cleanliness standards of the LDS faith) but, once in a while it's a not so clean, sort of scary floor. In any case, I learned early in this job that removing my shoes was the ultimate sign of respect to the home and it helps me sit more easily on the floor with the little one I came to see. (Plus, walking through someones house in the winter with de-icing chemicals stuck to your boots is sort of rude.) Now, based on my previous work history it's been a weird transition to doing my job in my socks or bare feet. My sock drawer has had to stay in tip-top shape as well as my bare feet. Doing work in this way kind of makes you one of the family - one of many families around here. And it has its humorous moments, too. Like the day little Tab carried one of my sandals to me while I was talking to his mother at the kitchen table. He said "Go?" Then there was little Hannah who decided to wear my flip-flops around the living room. It's all pretty entertaining. And, you'll be happy to know, not once have I left a home visit without my shoes - at least not yet.