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words // Darren Griffin:
I’m not an extremely popular person in sneaker culture. I don’t incite riots when I stroll into sneaker functions, which lead to bro hugs and other things I typically try to steer clear of in general. But that works well for who I am, which is not quite an introvert but something very close to that. Yet, more and more, I find myself being approached by my peers and increasingly, perfect strangers.
Initially I found this odd and somewhat overwhelming. But as it takes hold and becomes somewhat consistent, it’s actually quite flattering, endearing even. Whether it be here in Austin, my hometown of Houston, or anywhere else in the world for that matter, fans of Nice Kicks (and oddly enough other things I’ve written) want to talk to me. And almost immediately, those conversations arrive directly at sneakers. Which is fine. I love sneakers and anyone who knows me knows I always have.
Recently, though, something about these interactions has plagued me deeply – specifically in terms of those with African Americans like myself. We seem to talk about sneakers almost exclusively. I hold our generation in very high esteem, as one far removed from social conformities and literary complacency. That said, yes, we can and should talk about sneakers; but we need to discuss so much more.
I, like millions of others, both African American and otherwise, are well aware of racial uprising in America and its irreversible stain on society. So when I come across intelligent, articulate, culturally curious, centered people of color, I want our dialogue of deepened thoughts and unified ideals to extend far beyond that of the next Air Jordan release. In those moments, where we stand to vocalize and share something of profound substance, I could really care less about sneakers if I’m being completely honest. Because in actuality, those organic conversations can’t happen any other way. I long for that interaction. And it’s not so much just a want at this point – it’s a necessity for survival.
The very same principles that bind sneaker culture together double in effectiveness for upstarts like the Black Lives Matters movement. We are of the minority, fighting to ensure our culture is respected, treated fairly, and above all, preserved for generations to come. Who says we can’t discuss social issues just because our bond is settled elsewhere? Sure, sneakers are the nucleus for our connection, but also only the linchpin for what we can ultimately harvest.
The Black Lives Matters movement has a certain likeness to sneaker culture, and I say that in all admiration. Often times, BLM is deemed to be without a clear objective and lacking a singular commander and chief (although DeRay McKesson certainly hones those characteristics and leadership qualities). Sneaker culture, wrongly, gets a similar rep. But what people don’t seem to understand is that the power is not necessarily in one heroic figure, but the movement in its entirety. Cut off one head and another takes its place, so forth and so on.
The skewed lens under which sneaker culture is dissected parallels what we face on a day-to-day. Those are the conversations that need to be had. Minorities account for a large number of sneakerheads. You mean to tell me with the disparity blacks (and browns) face in this country when we see one another and have a chance to converse all we talk is kicks? We aren’t that basic. Our minds aren’t one track. We love sneakers but our voices, minds and buying power aren’t slave to them – nor anything else for that matter. There is absolutely no way, with all we have faced and continue to encounter, that our conversations should fixate on one thing as if its the only thing. There is so much more. We are so much more.
This is by no means a deviation from how much I love sneakers or how much you should love sneakers. It’s truly the exact opposite. Sneakers, can be and often are, the gateway for us to strengthen our shared resolve even further. We both love sneakers? Cool. But we may also share a passion for social justice, cultural reform, foreign policy, theoretical relativism, or hell, I don’t know, stamp collecting. The “what” doesn’t matter. The conversations that aren’t being had, do.
So if you see me here, there or anywhere, best believe I want to talk to you. I think I speak for all of the Nice Kicks staff when I say that. And yes, we’ll no doubt talk sneakers. But don’t sell yourself or our interaction short by scaling it down to only sneakers. Our culture means, stands for and equates to more than just kicks. Sure, what brings us together is sneakers. But what will ultimately hold us stable won’t be as simple as a pair of shoes.
Image: HK-Kicks
