Richard Swerdow: No Shoes In The House

When your shoes follow you into the house, they bring more than you with them. Richard Swerdlow has this Perspective.

COVID has changed things about the way we live, including how we socialize. As people resume entertaining at home, we're all navigating elbow-bumps versus hugs, and how close to sit on the sofa. Rules are uncertain in a pandemic-altered world, so when invited to someone’s home, I always have a mask in my pocket and make sure I'm wearing my best socks.

Because I've found, more and more, at a post-pandemic gathering, guests are asked to take off their shoes.

For a lot of people, this isn't new. Removing shoes before entering a home was customary in many cultures before the pandemic turned us all into germaphobes, and some folks have banned shoes inside for years. But amid fears of coronavirus, even with old friends with whom you're as comfortable as an old shoe, recently I was told to stash my sneakers at the door.

I was surprised by enforced stocking feet, but their house, their rules, and I didn’t want to judge my friends without first putting myself in their shoes. And after some research, I am now one of those one in three Americans who don't allow shoes in the house.

Because that pair of shoes you had on outside tracks in mud, grime, and whatever you stepped into on the street. Shoes are so filthy that cleaning experts say 30% of "matter build-up", also known as dust, in your home is powdered dirt brought in on the soles of shoes and chemicals like lawn pesticides clinging to shoes could be toxic. Worse, a 2016 study concluded 93% of the shoes tested had traces of fecal material - yes, poop  - stuck to their soles.

If you are grossed out, one bit of good news. Shoes may be dirty, but they aren't likely to spread coronavirus. Still, scientists say it's more hygienic to leave your loafers outside.

So when those same friends recently came over for dinner, I asked them to take off their shoes. And, as they awkwardly removed the shoes from their feet, I recognized that look of surprise on their faces. But this time, the shoe was on the other foot.

With a Perspective, I'm Richard Swerdlow.

Richard Swerdlow is a retired public school teacher.