Pacific Index

Mateo Cruz-Bradbury, a.k.a “No-Shoes Guy” bares all in an exclusive interview

   There are those who walk with purpose, their strides dictated by schedules and obligations, and then there are those who simply walk— to experience, to exist, to feel the earth beneath them.   Pittsburgh native Mateo Cruz-Bradbury belongs quite unequivocally to the latter category. To encounter him on campus is to witness something of an anomaly in the otherwise mundanity of ath-leisurewear and shorts in 40 degree rainy weather: a young man moving deliberately, always barefoot or rather in the most minimal shoewear required (Japanese wicker sandals made by himself most likely) his steps unmediated, unmarred by leather or rubber as though rejecting a world that insists on separation from the very ground it stands upon. 

   He remarks, “I just do things so I can. I don’t put much thought or significance into it.”

Yet significance, or maybe just an intense awareness accumulates around him, whether intended or not. His presence—both auditory and visual—has made him something of an urban legend within the microcosm of campus life, a figure debated and dissected in the ephemeral court; Yik Yak. The anonymous forum is known for its voyeuristic fascination with campus idiosyncrasies, character assassinations, self-reportage of personal outlooks and minimal to moderate criminal activity, misguided political debates, and freshmen feeling their oats, hoping that a simple posting of “who horny?” will lead them to instant gratification and a total lack of regrets. That den of untamed public thought has transformed him into a subject of casual commentary, a kicking post; ultimately a character in an extensive and ongoing narrative of speculation.

   He notes, “Yik Yak creates this atmosphere of parasocial relationships. People think that through some comments, they know enough about you to make opinions about you. I find that to be incredibly sad; what are you even doing with your life?”

    If those opinions trouble him, he doesn’t let on. Mateo, from his own admittance moves through the world on his own terms, untethered from expectation, shaped instead by experience. His time in Japan and Guatemala, coupled with his reading of Born to Run by Christopher McDougall, has cultivated in him a philosophy that is at once mindful and instinctual. The absence of shoes, far from an act of defiance or attention seeking, is an exercise in presence, an immersion in sensation and interconnection. “I have the privilege of living on this clean campus, where I can walk barefoot, and I take total advantage of that,” he proclaims.

   To dismiss it as mere eccentricity would be to misunderstand its deeper resonance. For Mateo, walking unshod is not a rejection of convention, but an assertion of connection— to the physical world, to the self, to something elemental and unspoken. “I have intention with my life,” he says.    “Walking barefoot has allowed me to have more connection to who I am. It’s kinda like grounding, or touching grass, where I can connect with the world beneath me.”