Pain, Empathy and High Heels
I went to Washington, D.C. this past weekend with my wife, Sophia, to participate in the Women’s March. To stand with women who have been fighting battles for equality much longer than I’ve been alive. I listened to their speeches, and heard the pain, but also resolve in their voices as they explained the trials and tribulations they faced living as a women in our society. It was an exceptional event, especially because the organizers worked really hard to ensure that women of color, queer, immigrant and transgender women were all given a platform to be heard. They made it easy for me to empathize with the threats they face under the new president. I stood for hours listening to these powerful women speak, and then I marched. It was a beautifully organic movement through our capitol.
I walked somewhere between 7–8 miles and my feet and body were definitely tired and sore, but I knew I would recover quickly. Most people wore comfortable shoes that day because they anticipated the long hours of standing and walking, but towards the end as the crowds began to disperse, Sophia noticed two men wobbling a bit while they strode along the sidewalk.
Now, I’m not sure how long they marched in their heels, and they definitely had flat soled backups, but the image was a powerful symbol to cap off the feeling of solidarity that threaded through the entire day. It also begged the question: Did wearing a woman’s shoe help these men better empathize with the predicaments women were there to protest?
If you’ve been following my thesis blog, then you know that I am designing an exhibition to help men develop more empathy for women through uncovering implicit bias for men through a simple game by choosing men and women to fill certain occupational roles. I’m also using live performance to (hopefully) evoke a sense of empathy for women based on short scenarios that depict the problems women face everyday. However, this requires men to connect on an emotionally empathetic level, which may be significant in the moment after experiencing the live performance aspect, but could easily fade overtime once they return to the daily grind of their own lives. So, I thought about physical ways men could connect with women to empathize––and the men marching in high heels immediately came to mind.
I went to a discount shoe store that will remain unnamed (not in the habit of giving out free endorsements!), and met the store associate who asked, “Mens?” I replied, “Actually, no. Do you carry a size 13 in women?” She looked skeptically at me before I explained my purpose, and then informed me that she didn’t think she had that size, but would show me where I could look. She was right, no 13’s, but they did have size 12, which is a size and a half smaller than I needed, but when I tried it on, it was good enough to work for me. I walked (wobbled a bit) over to the counter to seek approval and was given an okay sign. I purchased my first pair of heels for the reasonable price of $29.99.
I was giving a presentation in the evening to my fellow IxD classmates on an alternative prototype for thesis. I wanted to create a challenge for men to physically experience what some women endure to fit into a certain standard of beauty that seems highly valued in our society more than the way a woman thinks or adds value to society for the things she is able to do with her mind. It was called the MEOW Kit, which stands for Mens Empathy of Women, in reference to a project I worked on last year in a class called Smart Objects.
In the kit, a man would be challenged to walk in a pair of heels, shave their leg, arm, chest and facial hair everyday, tweeze their eyebrows to perfection, and the last part is not asking men to use a tampon, but I thought it would be interesting to design a small wearable device that could be sown into men’s underwear that would randomly give men the sensation of what it feels like to get a period unexpectedly while going about their normal day. I would ask them to keep a journal to describe the feelings both physical and emotional that might occur during the week of experiencing a very tiny inkling of what it feels like to be a women. The feedback I received from my classmates about the kit was very pointed and much appreciated. They felt I lost alignment with my goal of creating empathy around issues that are harder to see or are swept under the rug for the convenience of society. I think if I can design a way to include those issues into why men should use the kit then it would be a good concept to add to my thesis.
It was during this presentation that I donned my pair of heels to a chorus of laughter among my classmates. I stood through my presentation and could feel a bit of tension in the ball of my right foot as my toes were being slowly crushed into the front of the shoes, but it wasn’t excruciating (yet). I wore them through the rest of class (mostly sitting, I admit), and decided to keep them on for my commute home to Queens. I was a bit hesitant only because of the inclement weather we were experience with high winds and rain, but what would that say about me if I took them off knowing that lots of women were going home with their heels still on, so out into the street I went.
It was at this point that my feet really began to swell and hurt. I also noticed how I not only walked differently in stride, but also how I had to strategically navigate the ground with more regard than I normally do because of uneven pavement, holes in sewer covers, and so many subway grates! The street became a minefield of obstacles I never worried about before. During this stroll to the subway, I also caught a few bewildered glances (mostly from men) as they realized a 6'2" bearded man was walking in black high heels, but it’s New York, so I’m sure it’s not the craziest thing they’ve ever walked passed on the street. My train ride was also pretty uneventful, as I think only a handful of people caught a glimpse of my feet and didn’t make much of it. Once I got to my stop in Jackson Heights, what normally takes me five minutes to walk home easily took over ten minutes and the pain was becoming worse with each stride. I counted down the four and half blocks I had to walk to reach my front door and motivated myself knowing that soon I could remove these self-flagellating vice scripts from my poor poor feet. The banner photo at the top of this article reflects the aftermath for my feet.
This painful experience truly allowed me to empathize with women by understanding the torture some women choose to put themselves through to adhere to a standard of beauty that values tallness over other more important qualities women possess. It also gave me an appreciation of unforeseen obstacles women must navigate around that I’ve been privileged to never have considered before walking in women’s shoes, and lastly, it takes strength to walk around (and sometimes run) in heels all day (my total time standing and walking was somewhere between 30–45 minutes), so my perception of heels has completely changed. It also strengthened my resolve to support the newest wave of the women’s movement fighting to keep rights they have painstakingly gained challenging a patriarchal system that would be happier if women only wore heels to look pretty and not to march for their rightful equality.
And it’s why I’m proud to stand strong like a woman. #womensmarchonwashington
