The Sprinkling Can of Hope and the Mary Jane ShoesBy Elita Sohmer Clayman
When I was growing up, we did not have spare money for extravagant items. If it was in the clothing line, my brother or I did not wear hand me downs. We got new clothes, but they did not cost lots of money and they certainly were not designer brands.
Mom took me to a children’s shoe store called Dantzics. They had this x-ray type machine where you put your feet in and you looked down and there were the insides of your feet appearing in this slot. They gave you a balloon or a little pencil case if you bought your shoes there that day. Years later, it was revealed that those x-ray shoe places could be harmful. We did not know from harmful in those days. We knew it was fun to buy shoes at Dantzics. Mr. Dantzic was a nice and friendly store owner and he had an adequate selection of up-to-date shoes for kids. Mom picked out a pair of black patent leather called Mary Janes. They had a little strap and were bright and kind of cute. However, I did not like them and I informed Mom I did not want them. Mom said that I would learn to love them, if not enjoy them. All of the way home on the streetcar, I told mom in my little sweet voice that I would never wear them. She said that I would as I looked lovingly at my new and bright pencil case.
You see I loved sharpened pencils that came right from the manufacturer and I had very good handwriting for a child of about eight. I always got excellent next to handwriting on my report card. So the shoes were put in the cupboard to be worn on Saturdays or Sundays or special occasions. The shoes were never worn by me. I had informed Mom of that on the purchase day and Mom did not think I would carry out my words. As a minor threat, yet it was valid in my eight-year-old mind.
Holidays and special events came and I never would put on the black patent Mary Janes. They sat on the shelf gathering dust and I would brush them and they still sat there. They were bright and shiny and ugly in my mind.
Many years later when I was an adult, I purchased my first ballroom dance shoes from a dance shoe store in Virginia via the mail and catalogue system. In the brochures, there was a picture of a Mary Jane style dance shoe all bright and shiny and ready to be purchased. I laughed when I saw them and they looked so comfortable that on impulse I ordered a pair in my shoe size and eagerly awaited their arrival via United Parcel Service.
Now the white box addressed to me arrived from Virginia. I opened it up and there in my senior hands were the Mary Janes quite similar to the shoes from many years ago. They were bright and shiny and black and of course in a much larger size than those of the little eight- year-old kid who had a mind of her own way back then.
I tried them on. They were very comfortable with their suede dance soles and I thought to myself, 'Momma, you should see me now. It may have taken sixty years for your daughter to learn to like the Mary Janes, but they sure were comfortable and even not as ugly as I remembered them.' I wore them often and mainly for practice or to take dance lessons with. I would look down at my feet and think of how when Mom wanted me to wear those shoes I would cry and say, 'I hate them,' 'They are ugly,' 'You should not have bought them, etc.' When I, as an adult, looked down at them at this point in time, I thought that they made my bunion and hammertoe feet look much slimmer than they now were. I even thought they were kind of attractive in an odd way.
One day I was appearing in a showcase at the dance studio and my bunions and hammertoes were hurting. I decided to wear my Mary Janes doing the dance with my coach. I came out to applause and somehow the shoes moved with grace and determination as I danced and flowed across the dance floor with him. They became like my magic slippers (There was a dance movie years ago called Red Slippers). I felt as if I was a ballerina in my red slippers (though these were black) and that I could accomplish anything in these dance shoes at that moment. I did very well in the showcase exhibition and I certainly did credit those shoes with my performance. The Mary Janes had come through for me all these decades later.
Mr. Dantzic and Mom would have been proud of me if they were alive to see me dancing in those shoes. Mom would have said something like this, 'My darling, I told you that you would like these shoes eventually. ' Mr. Dantzic would have said that they fit me well because the x-ray machine showed my feet looking fine in them.
To Mom and the shoe store owner, I say: Yes, you were right. I did not ever make my son or daughter wear anything they did not like because of my black shoes, though they may remember it differently. I hope I recall that correctly because the black shoes certainly were a recollection of mine and now I can laugh about it and think of it with humor. Mom, you were right, I did like them and it only took all these years.
When we wear our shoes for dancing, we float out on the smooth floor, feeling as if we are famous stars walking on the red carpet before a congratulatory show given by Hollywood. Shoes may seem a minor fact to someone who does not dance. They think of them as good, old, plain shoes. We dancers know better than that.
There is an expression that states ‘it’s what inside that counts,’ meaning that inner beauty is as important as or more so than outer beauty. Expressions or slogans are not always necessarily accurate. The way we feel about our self is as significant for the sanctity of the mind as eating properly or getting exercise daily. When we are satisfied with our own personal being, then we are more content.
Ballroom dancing is a great enhancer of a happy attitude about our body and mind. When we go out to dance or take a lesson, we are accomplishing a task that becomes no burden after a few minutes inside the studio or dance facility. We are away from our home which is our castle. There was a slogan used many years ago spoken by a politician in his quest for a political job here in Maryland. He used that wording that your ‘home is your castle’ and therefore he meant that home and house are where we go to be peaceful and content. The slogan was not liked by the community and he lost the race; however, I remember the true meaning of what he meant and he was right on it.
The studio is another place where we seek solitude. Charles Cotton said, “Solitude is the soul’s best friend.” I have found that the studio means more than that.
When I was growing up, we did not have spare money for extravagant items. If it was in the clothing line, my brother or I did not wear hand me downs. We got new clothes, but they did not cost lots of money and they certainly were not designer brands.
Mom took me to a children’s shoe store called Dantzics. They had this x-ray type machine where you put your feet in and you looked down and there were the insides of your feet appearing in this slot. They gave you a balloon or a little pencil case if you bought your shoes there that day. Years later, it was revealed that those x-ray shoe places could be harmful. We did not know from harmful in those days. We knew it was fun to buy shoes at Dantzics. Mr. Dantzic was a nice and friendly store owner and he had an adequate selection of up-to-date shoes for kids. Mom picked out a pair of black patent leather called Mary Janes. They had a little strap and were bright and kind of cute. However, I did not like them and I informed Mom I did not want them. Mom said that I would learn to love them, if not enjoy them. All of the way home on the streetcar, I told mom in my little sweet voice that I would never wear them. She said that I would as I looked lovingly at my new and bright pencil case.
You see I loved sharpened pencils that came right from the manufacturer and I had very good handwriting for a child of about eight. I always got excellent next to handwriting on my report card. So the shoes were put in the cupboard to be worn on Saturdays or Sundays or special occasions. The shoes were never worn by me. I had informed Mom of that on the purchase day and Mom did not think I would carry out my words. As a minor threat, yet it was valid in my eight-year-old mind.
Holidays and special events came and I never would put on the black patent Mary Janes. They sat on the shelf gathering dust and I would brush them and they still sat there. They were bright and shiny and ugly in my mind.
Many years later when I was an adult, I purchased my first ballroom dance shoes from a dance shoe store in Virginia via the mail and catalogue system. In the brochures, there was a picture of a Mary Jane style dance shoe all bright and shiny and ready to be purchased. I laughed when I saw them and they looked so comfortable that on impulse I ordered a pair in my shoe size and eagerly awaited their arrival via United Parcel Service.
Now the white box addressed to me arrived from Virginia. I opened it up and there in my senior hands were the Mary Janes quite similar to the shoes from many years ago. They were bright and shiny and black and of course in a much larger size than those of the little eight- year-old kid who had a mind of her own way back then.
I tried them on. They were very comfortable with their suede dance soles and I thought to myself, 'Momma, you should see me now. It may have taken sixty years for your daughter to learn to like the Mary Janes, but they sure were comfortable and even not as ugly as I remembered them.' I wore them often and mainly for practice or to take dance lessons with. I would look down at my feet and think of how when Mom wanted me to wear those shoes I would cry and say, 'I hate them,' 'They are ugly,' 'You should not have bought them, etc.' When I, as an adult, looked down at them at this point in time, I thought that they made my bunion and hammertoe feet look much slimmer than they now were. I even thought they were kind of attractive in an odd way.
One day I was appearing in a showcase at the dance studio and my bunions and hammertoes were hurting. I decided to wear my Mary Janes doing the dance with my coach. I came out to applause and somehow the shoes moved with grace and determination as I danced and flowed across the dance floor with him. They became like my magic slippers (There was a dance movie years ago called Red Slippers). I felt as if I was a ballerina in my red slippers (though these were black) and that I could accomplish anything in these dance shoes at that moment. I did very well in the showcase exhibition and I certainly did credit those shoes with my performance. The Mary Janes had come through for me all these decades later.
Mr. Dantzic and Mom would have been proud of me if they were alive to see me dancing in those shoes. Mom would have said something like this, 'My darling, I told you that you would like these shoes eventually. ' Mr. Dantzic would have said that they fit me well because the x-ray machine showed my feet looking fine in them.
To Mom and the shoe store owner, I say: Yes, you were right. I did not ever make my son or daughter wear anything they did not like because of my black shoes, though they may remember it differently. I hope I recall that correctly because the black shoes certainly were a recollection of mine and now I can laugh about it and think of it with humor. Mom, you were right, I did like them and it only took all these years.
When we wear our shoes for dancing, we float out on the smooth floor, feeling as if we are famous stars walking on the red carpet before a congratulatory show given by Hollywood. Shoes may seem a minor fact to someone who does not dance. They think of them as good, old, plain shoes. We dancers know better than that.
There is an expression that states ‘it’s what inside that counts,’ meaning that inner beauty is as important as or more so than outer beauty. Expressions or slogans are not always necessarily accurate. The way we feel about our self is as significant for the sanctity of the mind as eating properly or getting exercise daily. When we are satisfied with our own personal being, then we are more content.
Ballroom dancing is a great enhancer of a happy attitude about our body and mind. When we go out to dance or take a lesson, we are accomplishing a task that becomes no burden after a few minutes inside the studio or dance facility. We are away from our home which is our castle. There was a slogan used many years ago spoken by a politician in his quest for a political job here in Maryland. He used that wording that your ‘home is your castle’ and therefore he meant that home and house are where we go to be peaceful and content. The slogan was not liked by the community and he lost the race; however, I remember the true meaning of what he meant and he was right on it.
The studio is another place where we seek solitude. Charles Cotton said, “Solitude is the soul’s best friend.” I have found that the studio means more than that.
When you are there you become a second person, removed from everyday tasks and happiness or sorrow of daily existence. The studio is another place for you to grow and thrive. Like a flower , we need water to survive and the flower of dancing needs reinforcement of liquid in the form of encouragement and desire to excel at this dance opportunity. Oliver Wendell Holmes said a 'home is where we love.'
Elbert Hubbard said the home is the abode of the heart. The studio becomes another abode of the heart because there we are - one of a bunch of flowers to be watered and nourished and encouraged to become someone new. That is our professional dance teacher’s job to use the watering can of hope, work and accomplishment by sprinkling us with the mist of joy and anticipation in learning to dance at any age.
When Mom said I would learn to love my black Mary Jane shoes, she said that out of necessity because we were not financially able to afford another pair of shoes. She bought them with confidence thinking she would sway the child into learning to like them. She did not know her child would be stubborn and never put them on until her late adulthood.
To the little girl who never knew then that the Mary Janes would play a part in her later life: the castle is your everyday home and the blessed studio where we escape for a few hours several times a week. The meanings of the word castle are many. Castles are where dreams are aspirations and yes, we do aspire and wish for great fulfillment in our dancing days. These days dancing become months and many times years and they have got to be the most beautiful days of our lives. We are full of spirit and goal reaching and can be proud to say we are BALLROOM DANCERS and we have transcended our expectations when we decided to try this exercise, sport, fun and ambitious moment in our existence.
People some time ask me what “I do.” Other than being a wife, mother, grandmother and daughter to my late parents, I proudly proclaim that I dance. Dance, they ask, what kind? I reply “the best there is and it is called ballroom.” Ballroom means excitement, exhilaration, excellence and most of all perfection. Perfection to the point of being the epitome of the embodiment of attainment. My neighbor once asked me what the word “Dancing” on my vanity license plate meant. I replied, “that it means I do something so special, it cannot be explained in one word.”
The one word goes back to the Mary Janes which always looked a bit like a dance shoe even in those olden days when I was age eight. It means I have realized that dancing is like being a princess or prince living in a castle and since home is where love and the heart are, then dancing is full of love. It is the soul’s best friend and the flowers are constantly being sprinkled with hope and fulfilled desires.
Always keep on dancing
4 comments:
Those Mary Janes are now dancing way across the dance floors of dance studios.
Good story, good encouragement, good vibes from this story.
Alana Jeffreis from Michigan
I had a pr of Mary Jane shoes and did not like them either. good story and your tie ins to ballroom dancing is excellent.. I love ballroom dancing and after the first of February, my husband and I are going to take some lessons at Fred Astaire here and become addicted to it like everyone else is..thanks Elita for encouraging and stimulating me... Esther L.
GREAT ARTICLE. I LOVE THESE.
Katherine from Ohio and I like your Stringing the Beads one even more.
Mary Janes are becoming popular again in Misses sizes. I saw a pair in Sears. I thought of the article. Very good. I am going to get a shoemaker ( there are still some around) and have him put on a pair of suede soles and wear them to a dance that we go to on Saturdays,
I will dancing with you in mind Elita Clayman -Allison Michelle P,. from Massachusetts USA
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