As Martin Mercy ’19 rolled onto Lick-Wilmerding’s campus on September 4, 2018, a single stroke of the foot propelled him forward. Students and teachers alike stood, mouths agape, awestruck by his smooth glide into Room H103. His adult-sized Heelys, ordered via Amazon, sailed cleanly over the Learning Village pavement. Admiration overwhelmed the faces of onlookers as they stopped to watch the future of footwear roll in. Nevin Chin ’20, a self-proclaimed Heely admirer, said to Mercy, “I’m always looking at your heels, trying to see if you’re about to roll off. It inspires me; it allows me to be a more holistic, free person here at Lick-Wilmerding. I think I can really embrace my identity, my self-expression.”
Until that point, many people had forgotten that Heelys even existed. When they saw the boy-hero roll in they were reunited with the fashionable concept. Kiki Arenas ’19 testified, “You encouraged me to clean my room, because I want to find my Heelys.” Not only did Heelys help a student roll to class on time, but they also taught Lick-Wilmerdingers important habits of mind, preparing them for life beyond Ocean Avenue.
Teachers also learned from the shoes. Tamisha Williams, Dean of Equity and Inclusion, said, “My life has changed because I have a new focal point — as you [Mercy] glide across the campus.” If Lick-Wilmerding students are lifelong learners, Heelys are lifelong teachers.
However, this golden age of expressive transit couldn’t last forever.
Fast forward twenty-four hours, to a fittingly dark and cloudy day, and Heelying rights were under threat. LWHS administration, concerned that the wheels would scuff the gym floor, invoked the 11th commandment — Thou shalt not Heely within the Bothin Gymnasium. Although the Amazon listing of Heelys clearly states that Heelys have a non-marking outsole, the rule continues to be strictly enforced. Spencer Yu ’04, Lick’s Assistant Athletic Director, gave no comment.
Despite the attack on Heelys, Heelyers still roamed the pastoral school grounds, like wild stallions on the expansive plain. Videos were shot of cool Heely stunts (@marty_thelonious on Instagram). The videos earned widespread popularity, receiving hundreds of views.
Two days after the gym incident, one strikingly handsome yet modest student who prefers to remain anonymous (Martin Mercy), tragically tumbled to the Caf floor after a freak Heely-related accident. The administration leaped upon the calamity, using Mercy’s injuries as the catalyst to justify a school-wide ban on Heelys. Christine Sebastian, Administrative Assistant to the Head of School, was the messenger of the bad news: “Heelys aren’t banned on campus, per se, but it is implied, similar to a skateboard, that they violate the safety of the campus” — an implied ban with a direct warning. Sebastian told Mercy, “I saw you fall earlier. You can’t wear Heelys anymore.”
photo by Nick Harris
The halcyon days of Heely freedom are over. From this point on, Mercy’s Heelys wait at the bottom of his book bag, only released on the open streets of the Bay Area at the end of the school day. Will Heelys ever roll on the paths of Lick-Wilmerding to inspire students’ imaginations again? Like a wheel rolling in a shoe, justice always comes full circle.
