Thinking On My Feet

As a teacher, you always need to think on your feet, but you don't expect to think too much about your feet.

One morning I looked down at my feet to find out why the floor of the college library was suddenly so uneven: it felt as if I kept stepping into potholes. I glanced down and discovered that I had odd shoes on. Not only was one black and the other brown, but one was low heeled and the other high heeled. (It was pitch black when I left the house that morning and I had put my feet into the first shoes that presented themselves on the threshold.)



I was due to give a lecture a few minutes later and didn't think that the odd shoes would do much for my professional credibility. What should I do? I weighed various options and in the end decided that if I didn't look down at my feet at all, and stood behind the desk, my students probably wouldn't even notice that my shoes didn't match. I mean, how often did you take any notice of your teacher's feet?

The 'Language Awareness' lecture went well enough. We were analysing the cohesion of texts and I was brisk and businesslike as I chivvied the class through the exercises. The session ended and I thought I'd got away with the shoes.

"Anyone got any questions?" I asked.

There was what you might call a pregnant silence. Then a voice piped up:

"Yes, Miss Sharon ... why are you wearing odd shoes?"

"Because ..." I began, fumbling wildly for an explanation that would save my face "Because today is Odd Shoes Day. .... What? do you mean you haven't heard of it?"

I went on to tell them that it's an old British custom to wear odd shoes on this day every year. I'd already told them how important it is to take part in the local culture and to participate fully in the event next year when they were in their British colleges.

My students had already been appraised of such quaint British customs as Red Nose Day and the burning of an effigy on Guy Fawkes Night. This was just one more example of British lunacy to tuck away into the mental data bank ... and fortunately they were prepared to give me the benefit of the doubt.

Perhaps the most important lesson of the day was nothing to do with the anaphoric reference and ellipsis we'd been studying, but instead the great need for the gentle art of bluffology in the classroom. Because in a year or two they would be standing in a classroom in front of their students. Hopefully with matching shoes on!