Over the last 15 years, I have seen some poor places and some poor people. I have met families who had no idea that somewhere else they would be considered poor. I have also known people who thought they were poor, but weren’t. It’s so difficult to define poverty, because so much of it comes down to comparison and expectation; but I think it tends to come down to shoes.
You see, sizes of homes, number and style of vehicular transportation, even the nature of diet, are all cultural. The possession of any number of amenities could be valued in one culture and ignored, or even derided in another. Clothing may differ based on culture, climate and context, but the need for shoes is universal. In every culture people require the use of their feet for the basic necessities of life. Anyone who can’t protect his feet is truly poor.
Around the world, street children are scavenging the basic necessities of life from garbage dumps, being used as drug mules, being put to work in sweat shops and farms and mines, and are doing all of those things without shoes. For a good deal of them, the lack of foot wear will lead either directly, or indirectly, to their early death. Diseases, injuries and infections all entering the small bodies through unprotected feet.
The reverse, then, is also recognized. How many people can name the human rights abuses and tyrannical crimes committed by the Marcos family when they oppressed the Philippines? Not many; everyone, however, remembers that Imelda Marcos owned more than 1000 pairs of shoes. In some way, her possession of more shoes than one could wear in a year seems to most people the ultimate expression of tyrannical gluttony.
These are the things I ponder, when I feel a little sorry for myself that I can’t afford to eat out every night, or to hire a maid. Those days when I have that conversation with my husband about something one of us wants that we can’t afford right now, I look at my shoes. Four pairs of shoes for me. Two pair for him. Seven pair of tiny sandals and shoes handed down to my mackerdoodle.
In most of the world, my house would be seen in the same total lack of comprehension as Imelda Marcos’ closet. To millions of children around the world, I am at the very pinnacle of opulence. I am living above the shoe line, and that makes me wealthy.
******This was written as a part of Scribbit’s May “Write-Away” contest. The topic was “shoes.”********
Kristi-Anna said,
May 18, 2008 at 8:24 am
Funny that you would post about this today Cor. Our school recently held a shoe drive to send shoes to Africa (I don’t know the details, JA is rather sketchy sometimes! LOL).
One classroom donated nearly 100 pairs of shoes. I’d say the school on the whole donated 300+ pairs of shoes!! We went thru our closets to find what didn’t fit and whatnot, and donated a few pairs. A great thing indeed.
Michelle at Scribbit said,
May 18, 2008 at 4:44 pm
Unique and well thought out–I hadn’t considered Imelda in relation to the theme but I love how you used it. Great post.
Daisy said,
May 20, 2008 at 8:17 pm
A school down the road just had a shoe drive, too. I saw lots of gym shoes and several pair dressy shoes, patent leather like-new Mary Janes.
Ice Cream Recipes » These Shoes Were Made For Walking said,
May 21, 2008 at 3:11 am
[...] The Line (Insightful, educational, and my favorite line is: “living above the shoe line”) [...]