My father is a very formal man. I remember him shining his shoes religiously every day. "It's important to look neat,” he always told me. So I grew up thinking just like him. I never questioned that belief, until a couple of months ago.
That particular day, it was the Open House at my kids’ school. I spent most of that afternoon fixing my vegetable garden. And, by
the time we had to leave, I looked at my hiking boots and felt a peculiar sense of pride. They were dirty. I felt somehow that dirtiness represented a connection with the earth, with the vegetables that I had just planted. So contrary to what I had learned from my father, I decided to go with my dirty hiking boots to the Open House. My pride was short-lived when I was confronted withunpleasant glances from some of the “well dressed” people. I thought about those days when I also wore formal clothes, and my shoes were shiny as well.
her car covered in dirt from