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Essays, Not Rants! 377: Shoes


My favorite part of Netflix’s Always Be My Maybe might just be a tiny beat that happens part way through the movie. It’s hardly a big moment, just a bit of table setting that, for someone like me, holds all the more import.


There’s a party, and a couple kids are chasing each other. They run up the steps to the house and, without pausing to think, slip off their shoes before entering. The camera follows them as they run through the house and to the back door where they put their shoes back on and continue their chase outside. It’s a really small beat, and the whole shoes thing isn’t highlighted — there’s no cutaway to the kids’ feet or anything; the long shot just serves to establish the party in the suburbs.


Maybe you don’t quite get what I’m getting at.


I moved to the US when I was fourteen. There was a lot of little culture shocks, from tax not being included in the sticker price to the fact that I had to drive to get anywhere in the suburbs. A big one was that Americans wore their shoes inside the house. As someone who grew up in Singapore, I was very used to removing my shoes before going into a house. Why would I want to track the outside world into someone’s home? That’d be barbaric.


I got over it, and these days usually ask when I visit someone if it’s shoes on or off (my apartment is firmly shoes off, if you were wondering). Wikipedia has an interesting rundown on the practice of removing shoes inside, surveying the custom in several countries. It’s not common in the US but, as the article notes, “...removing of shoes is common among certain immigrant communities.” Which, I suppose, explains me and mine. But I’ve digressed.


There’s a beat in Always Be My Maybe where a pair of kids, unprompted and without a word, pause their playing to take their shoes off when entering a house, and put them back on when they exit. It’s such a small detail, but one that is absolutely rife with verisimilitude and meaning. It’s something you’d expect to see in an Easy Asian household like the one depicted in the film. Given that the film’s three writers are all of Easy Asian descent and the director herself a child of Iranian immigrants, it’s not surprising that the detail made it in.


And it’s treated as normal to boot. I know this seems like such a small beat to obsess over, but it’s a really big deal for. In all the American media of consumed over the years, nowhere have I seen this tiny but important facet of my life portrayed on screen. And certainly not as casually and matter-of-factly as here. In that moment I felt seen, I felt like this part of me and my life was important and valid. That the habit of taking my shoes off inside wasn’t unusual.


I yearn for stories by different people, I yearn to hear about other experiences and takes on life. I also want to see my own experiences presented in media; I want to see myself represented. Always Be My Maybe may not be the best movie in Netflix’s stable of romcom revivals (that title belongs entirely to Set It Up and if you disagree you are wrong) but it gets a special little place in my heart for how it portrays its Asian American protagonists without making the whole movie about the ‘Asian American experience.’ Sasha and Marcus are presented as fairly normal people, they aren’t ‘foreign’ or ‘exotic,’ they’re just them.


In a few ways, Always Be My Maybe seems not unlike To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before in that both films feature leads who are people of color without the plot being about how they’re minorities. At the end of the day, I want to see little parts of my life portrayed as being, well, normal and not some bizarre thing done by the Other. Movies like Always Be My Maybe and To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before do that. And now I want more.


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I've always taken my shoes off when entering the house. :mellow:




Me too. We always remove our shoes when we visited someone, and at home got yelled at if our shoes got anywhere near the carpet. In the circles I grew up in, seeing someone wearing shoes indoors was rare and frowned upon (and still is). But I've also noticed that some home owners will, out of deference to their guest, permit them to leave shoes on regardless of how they feel about shoes indoors. This, and the amount of times I've cringed seeing someone wear shoes indoors, tells me that despite my circles, we tend not to think about it too much here.


A distinction I've noticed, and I can't speak for everyone or all cultures here, is that we tend to leave our shoes on if we enter temporary shelters like hotels or classrooms. Or if we have an apartment where our entrance is on the inside of a structure, we wear our shoes inside until we get to our door. But when I went to Japan, the rules where very clear: you leave your shoes at the threshold to the outside. Doesn't matter if it takes you ten minutes to walk up the stairs to your hotel/apartment, you're doing it in your socks or indoor shoes. In America it's unheard of to take your shoes off at that point.


I don't think our experiences in American homes detract from anything TMD is saying, though. It's not a detail you'd normally see included in American movies (at least I can't think of any examples). The significance is obvious.


(Enjoyed that other essay you linked to, somehow missed it when/if you posted it here. Horrible story about casting, though, and glad the author stuck to her guns.)

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