Warriors and Tadpoles Wear Pink

Guest Post by Marta A Oppenheimer

Warriors and Tadpoles Wear Pink

Women in the 1960’s, fed up with inequality due to being born without a Y chromosome, decided that in order to be heard, their appearances had to change. Along the road for equality with men, women trashed lipsticks, high heels, and burned bras; getting rid of the items that (symbolically) they felt belittled and oppressed them. (Note: High heels ARE oppressive. I will stick to my Converses; thank you very much.)
Women with power do not wear pink dresses.
​I strongly disagree.

Why can’t we conquer the world in a puffy and shiny taffeta dress? It makes no sense to me. Aren’t we so powerful that we can do it all while wearing glitter and a tiara?

This weekend my 8-year-old niece, Olivia, introduced me to her new pets.
“Titi Ali. Come meet Julie, June, Tiny, Tiana, Lila, Izzy, and Fusha, the tadpoles I rescued from a puddle in the back yard.” She says while pointing to a small fish tank with a bunch of sperm-like creatures swimming in clear water.

There is construction going on at my little sister’s house. Apparently, muddy water has begun to puddle at the site and filling up with tadpoles. Olivia appointed herself The Rescuer of Tadpoles.

“When they get legs, we let them go.” She explains. “They become tree frogs and jump inside the bushes. This is my third batch of tadpoles. Come.” Olivia grabs my hand. “I’ll show you the others, but I have to put on my boots first.”

She searches in her closet for a pair of bright pink plastic boots with a rhinestone border. The boots match her flowy, pink dress.

“Do you have plastic boots, Titi Ali? So you can help me scoop them?” Olivia asks.

“Bummer. Not with me.” I respond with a disappointed face. “Next time I will bring a pair for sure!”

Lying to a child. 

There is no need for protective footwear because, although I do not wish the tadpoles any harm, my feet are not going anywhere near them. The horror!

My niece grabs a plastic bucket and a shovel, the kind used to build sandcastles at the beach, and we exit her bedroom.

She is an Amazonian Princess on a mission. Olivia slowly, but with purpose, goes inside the empty work-in-progress swimming pool.

“I will watch you from up here!” I say loudly so she can hear me.

A liar and now a coward.

I quietly observe this tiny girl with flowers in her hair, multiple bracelets jingling on her arms, and a heart full of kindness and compassion, carefully dig into a muddy puddle with her shovel.

I want to cry, I love her so much.

While she scoops fishy larvae, I think of all those women giving up makeup, and trading pretty dresses for shining armour to become warriors and fight the good fight.

They should meet Olivia.
​
She will fight that good fight... while wearing a pink dress.

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Marta A Oppenheimer is a twice divorced woman searching for love in Miami, the land of palm trees, hurricane warnings, and Kim Kardashian lookalikes. In between dates, Marta is a published writer, graphic artist, storyteller, spoken word performer, and a non-profit animal rescue group volunteer. 

Marta’s stories have appeared on Chicken Soup for the Soul, Miami Living Magazine, The Bad Day Book, TrueHumor.com, Ariel Chart International Literary Journal, and performed on The Moth Miami StorySlam, Miami Book Fair, Lip Service Stories: True Stories Told Out Loud, Raw Storytelling: Live True Storytelling Show, Luna Star Café, and The Only in Miami Show on Jolt Radio. And now a graduate of the Villain Theater’s Improv Foundations classes! The short story, “Love in a Pumpkin”, became a short film and an Official Selection of multiple film festivals. You can read more about her romance perils at: thedatingdaysofmartao.com or can be found on facebook and instagram @thedatingdaysofmartao. Keep in mind that dating after 40 is for the brave.