Don’t Dirty Your Dress
ELLEN YOUNG
Little toes on the kitchen floor, Little fingers gripping to the window Just tall enough to peek her eyes out the raindrop-covered window. Through the wet glass, boys are playing in the rain and stomping in the mud. “Mommy, I’m going outside to play,” says the innocent eyes “Oh no sweetie, you’ll dirty your dress.” “Stay inside.” “Who’s my pretty girl?” say her parents about her. “Who’s my smart boy?” say her parents to her brother. Learning within the first year of life, Looks are more important for her Than intelligence. On Halloween her eyes light up at the sight of the fireman costume With the shiny badge, But her mother’s gentle hand guides her towards the pretty princess costumes With the shiny necklace. In middle school she starts to push her plate aside, Already depriving herself at an early age As she wonders What if my “brain food” makes me fat? She misses the first 45 minutes of history class on a Tuesday, She was sent home to change her shirt. Because even if she has the weight of the world on her shoulders, She shouldn’t dare reveal them to the boys in her class Because her own skin is a distraction to those whose education is more valued. In high school she no longer wants to be a scientist, but a model, Because the media that suffocates society Tells her that the numbers on her report card are not as important As the ones on the scale.
“That job is too physically demanding for you,” And “Wouldn’t you rather be a mother?” Are statements she hears far too often. How come the boys around her are being told “You can be anything you want to!” While she is not. Her perfectly painted nails turn on the television And she sees male politicians making “statements” and “claims,” Being critiqued on their beliefs and ideas. Click, the channel changes to another politician. She see’s a female, who is “complaining” and “nagging,” Being critiqued on their hair and outfits. In the office she works twice as hard as the man next to her desk But still gets paid less than him. She quickly learns when the same amount of assertion is projected through a woman, rather than a man, She is not a boss, but a bitch. Grown and with a round belly, She manages to greet her husband everyday with a pink-lipped smile and a warm dinner waiting at home for him. She stares blankly into her plate and smiles as he tells her About what happened in the world today, while she was locked behind their pretty white picket-fenced house. Soon she is blessed with a baby girl. Today her child runs up to her with an eager smile “Mommy! Mommy! I’m going outside to play in the rain!” She kneels down to her daughter and replies, “Stay inside honey… we don’t want to dirty your dress.”
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