As a child, I pushed the borders of eccentricity through my clothing choices. As soon as I was given the green light to dress myself, I went into full experimentation mode: wearing clothes backwards; playing with the lines of gender expectations, foregoing dresses and skirts in favor of anything from the boys’ section; finding fun patterns and loud colors that often clashed but felt exciting to try on and eventually wear. I was fearless, shameless, fully myself.
Somewhere in the midst of puberty (and social dynamics and pressures), the carefree nature of my clothing choices went dormant, all except for one place: my feet. While I exchanged lime-green, satin button-downs for black t-shirts and far less obnoxious outfit compositions, I always lived loudly through my socks, and that form of expression has carried well into my adulthood—so much so that it brings me back to that childlike place of fearlessness, shamelessness, full embodiment.
Setting Intentions
In my first year of teaching, one of my students purchased a pair of espresso-themed socks for me, and on days I needed an extra boost, I’d put on that pair. Not only did I feel more energized, but I also felt grateful for the student who took the time to think of me—a generosity I strived to reciprocate in my work. I have since tossed those socks (that was 20 years ago), but that daily ritual has remained ever since: tapping into my feelings and needs, choosing a pair of socks that expressed what I most needed that day, and building the outfit from there.
In the past six months, I’ve started to document these sock choices, sharing my intentions with others on a daily basis. Partly, I wanted to see how many pairs of socks I actually owned. Mostly, though, that daily act of sharing my sock intentions with others took on a new layer of meaning for me: I was building community, sharing parts of my identity, recognizing just how playful and creative and powerful it is to make this daily commitment to be fully myself through socks—and most of all, getting back to that childlike fearlessness of being my most authentic self.
There are so many ways I’ve expressed myself through socks. Below are some examples of this daily ritual:
Socks to lighten the mood: When a series of dreary rainy days take hold of me and I need sunshine or a little more zest in my day, I like to choose these socks as a reminder of all that is bright and beautiful. And I feel really happy wearing them.
Socks as an expression of purpose: A large portion of my sock collection involves animals of all kinds. When I want to go forth boldly into my day, I throw on a pair of these pups; the dachshunds’ confidence and stature in particular reminds me that regardless of size (I stand just shy of five feet), I can walk tall and with purpose (and those speckled dogs are just so cute).
Socks as a an act of courage: One collection of socks calls me to make a difference in the world and step bravely into challenges I face, whether preparing for an important election…
or working to resist injustice and dismantle systems of oppression.
Socks for pure play: When I’m getting mired in too much seriousness and a little levity will do, I draw from the collection that reminds me to stay light and playful when the occasion calls for it.
Socks as an act of love: Lots of people gift me socks, and I wear these socks to invoke relationships I hold central in this world, calling upon those I love—whether the students I teach or those closest to me in my personal life—to remind me that approaching work and life from a place of love is a way to heal the world. These socks were given to me by a student I love, and when donning them, I extend that care to all those students I have known and ones I hope to influence in the future.
Playfulness as Necessity
When I think about what sustains me as an educator, it’s small acts like these: moments when I invite a little play, creativity, and intention into each day; moments when I get to be fully myself through this daily act of expression; moments when I reclaim that childhood fearlessness. What are the ways you invite play into your days? How do small, creative acts sustain you in this profession?
Lori Cohen is an experienced school leader, instructional coach, classroom teacher and education consultant who has worked in public and independent schools for two decades; she cares deeply about educating for equity and believes coaching serves as the best form of professional development for teachers and leaders. She is also the author of Why Instructional Coaching Matters in Independent Schools, Breaking Down Barriers and Building Relationships, Strong Leadership Lies in Strong Coaching, and Mindfulness As a Tool to Dismantle Systems of Oppression–Within Ourselves. You can find her on Twitter @lcctchr