Sin Fronteras Spring 2018 Sin Fronteras 2018 | Page 31

Pink and Blue
Michelle Gomez
It is a common belief that boys and girls live in separate worlds. It is
dictated by society and indoctrinated into our minds that we are opposing poles,
never touching but somehow always connected. The girls with their pink ribbons
and a huge heart and the boys with their iron muscles and big brains.
If he stays home, cooks and takes care of the baby he is a modern man,
but if she does the same she is merely a housewife. A boy can only focus on
one thing at a time because his mind is not capable of more. A girl must multitask
to keep everything in order and do everything at home. While his best weapon
is his whiplashing mouth her ultimate weapon must be the tears she sheds in
order to mercilessly guilt-trip. The mysterious objects to a man are everything
that has to do with beauty and the unknown objects to a woman are anything
that has to do with hardware and building. These are the rules. I didn’t make them.
My brother was always a thunderstorm when it came to stereotypes.
Defying anything and everything that was typical of boys by doing the exact
opposite. He would play with my sister's dolls and have tea parties with her. A
lot of people said that he was just being a good brother or did it just to spite
my father. However, I like to believe that it was much simpler than that. He did
it because he wanted to.
My sister was the hurricane of it all. Walking like a lightning bolt into
every room. She would always stand her ground no matter what. She wasn't up
for wearing pink dresses and doing her hair. When she was in fifth grade she
cut her hair off shorter than shoulder length and would bash anyone who dared
comment on it. Now, whenever someone asks her about having kids or getting
married she gives her brutal and honest opinion. Most people judge her, but
she gives her blatant and logical reason so that by the end of it people can’t
help but agree with her.
I didn't grow up with the idea that most people do, that boys don't cry
and that girls are weak. My brother was the only one out of all the family to cry
when Bambi died. My sister hit a kid in school who called her ugly. My family
made me realize that things aren’t always as movies and books depict them.
Girls aren’t delicate flowers that need caring for and boys aren’t strong-willed
men who never need help. I can only hope you realize that too.
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