Last year was a big year for us in many ways, but two things really stand out. First, it was a breakout year, as we distributed over 100,000 shoes—59,505 in Kenya alone! Second, we rolled out our new version of The Shoe That Grows last year and did several distributions to test the quality and see how it would hold up compared to our previous version.

A couple of weeks ago, I returned to Kenya to follow up on a distribution. 

School visits often provide the most adventurous elements of a trip to Kenya, especially the more interior we get. I highly recommend riding along with our Kenya team member, Japheth, who is both an excellent and terrifying driver from a U.S. perspective. Speed bumps are unmarked in Kenya, and it is up to the driver to notice them and then memorize them for future trips on any given road. Quite often, the only heads-up we get before a speed bump is a “whoops!” from Japheth about half a second before liftoff. His spatial awareness is something I will never fully understand, yet I appreciate it immensely as I observe him maneuver a two-lane highway that somehow turns into six lanes. 

On this particular school visit, it had been raining, so Japheth wisely secured a Land Cruiser for us to ride in. We were headed down some rough roads—unpaved, deeply rutted, the kind where even Japheth acknowledged we were lucky it wasn’t worse. And Japheth has a very high bar for what “worse” means. 

As we neared Kitambaasye Primary School, we were greeted by kids running down the road to greet us. Let me tell you, it is thrilling to see kids running around in The Shoe That Grows! 

Upon arrival, we quickly split up to make the most of our time. Japheth helps with quality control of The Shoe That Grows at our factory, so he got to work carefully examining the shoes on each student, recording everything so he can bring any issues back to the factory and communicate adjustments when needed. 

This particular distribution provided the unique opportunity to compare the previous version of The Shoe to the new version. In many ways, the previous version appears to be nicer, especially from our Western perspective. It looks similar to other shoes we like wearing. The stitching feels stylish. By contrast, the new version looks more like a slip-on Croc, which can be perceived as a lesser-quality shoe. Both versions expand five sizes. Our field testing of our new version showed promising results, but how did the two compare in a school where both versions were distributed and both are clearly being used?

The majority of kids at Kitambaasye Primary were still wearing their shoes, which was already a great sign. And upon Japheth’s further inspection, I was thrilled to see that the pairs of the new version of The Shoe That Grows are holding up extremely well. In fact, one issue we had been seeing with the previous version was the fraying on the ends of the stitching, which was still true, and meant an overall messier appearance. The new version? It actually looked better with some wear on it! Less clunky. More natural on the foot. 

While Japheth evaluated shoes, Harliet jumped into the classrooms to survey the students directly. As we work to develop the right surveys to determine the impact several months after a distribution, we first begin with curiosity, seeing where the line of questions will take us. Harliet learned the following information from one 5th-grade classroom:

• More than half of the students wear their pairs of The Shoe That Grows to class every day 

• Less than half have an alternate pair of shoes

• Several students share their shoes with their siblings

• Many students said they love wearing their shoes when it’s hot because they are open and comfortable

I paused in a classroom and sat at a desk, chatting with the students about what they were learning and what their plans for their futures may be. I tried my hand at a Rubik’s Cube and discovered that, in fact, it does not matter what country I am in, I still cannot solve one, while kids both in the U.S. and in Kenya possess that skill. 

Finally, I made my way over to the teachers to see what I could learn from them. Spending time with teachers is always one of the most meaningful parts of a school visit. They're with these kids every day. They see the difference in ways a distribution team passing through for a few hours simply cannot. A few things stood out from what they shared:

• One woman who teaches 7th-9th grade told me that during the drought season, they tend to get fungal infections with closed shoes because of the heat and sweat, but with The Shoe That Grows, that problem goes away. "These shoes are very helpful, and they are very comfortable," she said. "They are very happy, to be sincere."

• Milka, a 2nd-grade teacher, pointed out something I hadn't thought about before: A lot of kids walk to school in wet or worn-out shoes, and then have to sit in them all day. Being able to switch into a dry, good pair when they arrive means they're not distracted. They can just go straight to learning. "There is no wasting time," she told me. "Their education then improved because they can switch to learning right away."

• Teacher Gertrude, a 6th-grade teacher, made a point about confidence that really stuck with me. She said that when kids all have the same shoes, it levels the playing field. "A child is a child. If a child sees someone with a different pair of shoes, sometimes the child can think the other shoes are better. When they all have the same shoe, it helps their self-confidence."

It's one thing to distribute shoes. It's another thing entirely to come back months later and find kids still wearing them—and wearing them well! The new (and improved!) version of The Shoe That Grows passed its field test. But more than that, days like this one are a reminder that what we're really measuring isn't just durability—it's confidence, and focus, and the small but meaningful ways a pair of shoes can clear the path to learning. 

March 2026 Impact Dashboard