The Moc Debac

A few years ago I didn't live in the city.  I lived in the middle of nowhere.  One day during the middle of a trip to Target I spotted a pair of teal moccasins. They seemed cute, and comfortable, and I'd seen bloggers online wearing mocs and they seemed cute and trendy.  For whatever reason, I didn't pick them up that day, and trips to Target were every three months or so so I never did buy them, but I regretted that for awhile.

Flash forward to a few months ago.  I saw online that Old Navy had baby moccasins.  "Perfect," I thought, "he needs shoes and they'll be less clunky when he starts to crawl and walk."  And I ordered them without thinking further than that.

They arrived but they were a little big, and Thumper thinks they're funny (I clapped them together) so he often plays with them.  But now we're starting to feel the first hints of fall, and it occurred to me that I should get him used to wearing shoes now, instead of when it's fifty degrees out.  After a few tries I wrangled them on successfully and we headed out for errands.

He wasn't a fan of having shoes on his feet (we haven't even really done socks this summer) and after putting up with his glares and muffled kicks for about 15 minutes I decided he'd had enough.  I reached into the stroller to pull them off his feet, and realized that when I pulled them off and he played with them, they'd now be plainly visible to the public.  And it was like a switch flipped in my brain.  I became incredibly uncomfortable.

Prior to then I hadn't thought much more beyond the fact that they were cute and seemed comfortable.  But I now live in a city with a significant Native American presence, something I'd never experienced before.  As in, there's a totem pole downtown (with its own history of appropriation).  I hadn't really thought of it before, but suddenly the shoes felt inappropriate.  The idea that someone could ask me about them... ugh.  Just the potential in my head was mortifying.  I stuffed the shoes down into the stroller.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but I feel like now that the switch has been flipped, I can't feign ignorance.  Even if no one else would care, I do.

Later that evening, I told the Yeti about my realization.  "I still think they'd be good for walking, but I just don't think I can have him wear those in public," I said.  "He still likes playing with them so maybe they can be his..."

"...Racist house shoes?" the Yeti finished.  Such a sympathetic ear.

So I'm back on the hunt for shoes.  He probably won't walk for months so maybe warmth ought to be my priority.  Or maybe just something he'll wear for more than fifteen minutes.

Not a joking matter

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