pioneer boots

my 4th grade teacher was a man named mr. sobaje. (pronounced so-bah-jee) he was a wonderful teacher who made every effort to make all of us kids feel important and accepted. i remember his hands were always covered with chalk dust as he rarely used an eraser. he wore a casual suit each day with suede hush-puppies. we often sang in his class as he strummed the auto-harp, and he loved to tell us stories.
one i remember particularly well was about a poor boy in a turn of the century schoolhouse who after showing up barefoot was told he could not attend again without shoes. because he was so poor, his family could not afford to buy him a new pair of shoes, and as he was the only boy in a family of girls, he was forced to wear an old pair of ladies style lace up boots to school the following day despite his protests. though he tearfully begged his parents to let him stay at home rather than face the humiliation of his peers, they would not relent, believing his education to be more important than ridicule. the following day as he walked to the one room schoolhouse with his sisters, kicking the dirt as he went to hide his shame, he arrived and quickly took his place at his desk sliding his feet as far back under his seat as he could and waited in hopes no one would notice his lady style shoes.
as the other students filled their seats and the teacher arrived, he began to walk around the classroom, as was his custom while he taught. as he passed the poor boy he noticed the shoes even as the boy tried ever harder to slide them under his seat. the teacher continued to walk around the classroom, and then stopped and looked directly at the boy, and then at his shoes, and then said "is that what i think it is? are those...? yes, look everybody. look at johnny's shoes." the boy's heart raced as he braced himself for the shame. "those are real pioneer boots." the teacher continued, "why i haven't seen a pair of those in quite some time. those are the kind of boots real pioneers used to wear as they forged their way westward. yes sir, real pioneer boots."
at these remarks all of the children in the classroom suddenly became very curious and interested in little johnny's shoes and at recess they all begged to take turns trying them on.
of course the moral of the story here is twofold. the first, make every effort to reduce ridicule and humiliation for others, and the second, we can always see something from a new perspective. that's a long and roundabout way of me getting to this. while riding my wife's step-through bike the other day a guy called out to me. i stopped and headed back to his garage. "do you know what that is?" he asked. "do you know what you've got there?" "uh...?" i slowly replied. "you probably thought that was a girl's bike, didn't you?" he said. "yes?" "that's a mixte. (mix-tee) it's a french design. they're rare" he went on to tell me. and as he opened up his encyclopedic knowledge on the merits of the mixte, even showing me his own example amongst a half dozen or more vintage bicycles, i just stood there smiling, not sure if the whole thing was a put on or not.
later at home i did some research on the mixte and discovered everything the old guy had told me was true. there are whole legions of folks dedicated to finding, restoring and riding these odd little hybrids. if you don't believe me, check 'em out here. and as i ride around town now, i must say i don't feel quite as self-conscious wearing my very own pair of "pioneer boots".