Who chooses shoes--and how?

Am I walking into the classroom today wearing my blue, pink, and white Brooks trainers? Yes I am--because they coordinate with my outfit, because they're comfy, and because they look cheery, as if my feet are smiling.

You will note two criteria missing from my footwear selection process: I don't wear shoes to please administrators, and I don't care what students think. I'm not convinced that students even notice my teaching clothes, though I do recall the time when I served on the tenure and promotion committee and read a comment on a course evaluation in which a student expressed indignation because the prof's shoes didn't match his belt. 

 

Listen: if we had to deny tenure to every prof who'd ever made a fashion faux pas, we'd have nothing but empty classrooms. 

I look around and don't see anyone here whose clothes would compel a student to stomp out of class and demand a refund, but nevertheless last week an administrator way above my pay grade castigated us all for dressing too casually. Why? Because casual dress will repel prospective students.

Wait--aren't profs supposed to look a little--um, eccentric?  

I know the demographic cliff is real and competition is stiff for the shrinking pool of high school seniors. I don't want to be responsible for alienating a potential student when increasing enrollment is so vital.

But do we really want students who make massive life-changing decisions based on how profs dress?

The answer, I'm afraid, is yes. We need to help students develop the critical thinking skills that will empower them to make decisions based on more reasonable criteria, but we'll never get those students if they object to my shoes.

I'm wearing them anyway. Because some things are more important than a hypothetical visiting student's fashion hangups. Like shoes that make my feet smile.