Pink

Coming to America, I was excited to absorb everything I could about the culture. From classmates, I soon learned several things: dodgeball was the favorite recess activity, the concept of being "cool," in whatever form that took, was a good thing, and owning a Barbie doll dressed head-to-toe in pink was as American as apple pie. I begged my parents for a Barbie or, at the very least, a pink bedroom. My parents were appalled by my pink obsession and did not think a doll resembling a barmaid was appropriate for a six-year-old. Many years later, perhaps too many, I rebelled and realized that pink could be beautiful and even charming. This is my tribute to pink. Though, I still don't own a Barbie.