3. Little girl in the yellow dress
I remember the first time a saw you, but I don’t know where I was exactly. Was I at MOLAA? Or sitting in Chicano/a Studies class? I know it wasn’t Art History. I would never see you there. I never saw anyone like you in Art History.
But I remember when I saw you, I was drawn to you. I stared. I had never seen anyone who looked like me in art before. Your chubby little arms. Black shiny shoes. Dark brown skin. Jet black hair. And of course that perfect little ruffled yellow dress. Surrounded by an urban playground.
Yes, I couldn’t help but stare.
I loved it. And I loved you. I didn’t have a daughter then but I wondered. If I did have one, would she look like you? She might. She just might. It’s entirely possible…because I was once a little girl in a yellow dress too.
