Shoes are why I had a home, clothes, food, and a college degree. My mother spent decades working in one of the few remaining shoe factories in MA. Her work was fascinating and mysterious to me as a child: the workers from all walks of life, the sharp and dangerous awls, the mixed scents of leather and beeswax used in the hand-stitching she spent hours expertly crafting. Strange words like cordovan, skiving, and vamp were part of our dinner conversations. The shoes are still sold around the world in the finest department stores, selling for hundreds of dollars per pair.