Thursday, April 3, 2008


As I leisurely woke up and regained my coincidence, I was immediately exposed to what seemed to me like a pink cloud. With in this cloud there seemed to be a tall figure wearing every shade of pink possible. As the pink cloud vanished and I recuperated my sight, I was able to make out that the tall figure was the one and only, Ballerina Barbie. Along with her, came my older sister wearing the same colorful jacket she had been wearing when the accident occurred. I could recall us driving around the park on our four-wheelers on a cold October afternoon. We had decided to race and see who would get from one end of the park to the other first. As I made my last turn I could hear the victory chant coming from my cousin who was standing at the finish line. As I was making my turn, my sister appeared from the bushes and very ungracefully, crashed right into me. I broke my left arm, cracked the bone of my right arm, and became a victim of sister’s bestiality. In order to compensate for her vicious actions, Toa bought me the only thing she knew would make me forgive her. Owning Ballerina Barbie had been my dream since my mother demanded I take ballet lessons with my sister.

At the age of seven, when Toa had decided she wanted to be a dancing princess, my mother forced me to follow my sister’s footsteps. Dancing had always been something I whished I was good at, and coming to this realization at the age of five, had been quite distressful. Toa was an extraordinary dancer and what bothered me the most was that she wasn’t cocky about it. She was always willing to help people, and she couldn’t receive a compliment without replying, “Thanks, you did really well too.” On the other hand, I was always the kid they put in the back row with the excuse that I was tall. Dancing was not one of my fortes, and being surrounded by great dancers only filled me with frustration because I knew I wasn’t nearly half as good as they were.
Unable to succeed at dance rehearsals, I would sit against the long mirrors and imitate my sister’s moves, with Barbie. I expressed my passion for dance by moving Barbie’s arms and legs in different positions. Barbie was capable of doing things I always dreamt of doing. Through her skinny little arms and flexible legs, I expressed myself hoping to one day become like her. Owning Ballerina Barbie gave me a sense of hope. Barbie could do anything, be anything, and through her, I thought I could too.

When my family first moved to the US, Barbie, once again, became my link to the things I wished I could do. Adapting to our new home seemed impossible and learning English became a full time job. My lack of understanding of this foreign language caused my sister and me to attend different schools. I attended a bilingual school where I would learn to master this new language, while she attended an all-English school. Her advanced level of comprehension discouraged my hopes of ever learning the new language.

At home and at school, I closed myself and mastered the art of mumbling. Perfecting my “expressing myself through Barbie” skills I began to speak “English.” Barbie would express my thoughts and feelings through a series of sounds and peculiar gestures. I saw Barbie as a gateway for doing all the things I only wished I could do. Whenever I felt like a task was impossible, I recruited to my all knowing, all doing: Barbie.

As I grew older, I came across challenges that forced me to face reality. When taking a test at school, I had to study and do well. When playing sports, I needed to get into shape and learn the new skills. Slowly I began to dig an abysm between my Barbie and my life. I began to take risks and came to the realization that if I wanted to accomplish anything in life, I had to do it myself. Looking back it seems unusual that someone would use a doll as form of expression. But for me, not only was she a form of expression, but also a factor in my life used to shut down reality. I was afraid of making mistakes and not living up to my sisters’ accomplishments. Her talents intimidated me and made me feel miniscule. Fortunately enough, she always encouraged me to try my hardest and to never give up. Even though Barbie provided me with a sense of accomplishment, she never gave me the love and encouragement my sister did. I love Toa and I’ve learned to look at her success as inspiration to attain my own individual talents and achievements.