Skating so hard, I heard her before I saw her.
If I were asked to guess her gender I would have
said a boy. A teenage boy. But no, she was a skinny
little girl, no more than ten, I will bet. Her
skinny brown face fearless as she rode
a scooter skateboard as though it was one with her
feet——with confidence and grace. I watched
her unsmiling face, and noticed her watchful eyes.
They never met mine. They did not seek approval,
they did not search, they took in what was before
them. As if to be aware only. And as she made to

turn back in the direction she came from
I noticed her reflexes——very very quick. And
again very elegant. She can become a dancer, I thought.
Any kind she wishes to be. The sound of hard
ties on pavement became fainter and I hoped
no one will ever tell her what it means to
be a “girl.” But the fear left me immediately;
they are already telling her. She was skating
in a pink dress. But she will choose what to be.
That was obvious in her eyes, in the hands that
turned the skate, in the way she stepped on the
board and
flew away,
and in the way her eyes met the crowd.
She was born to make and follow her own
path. She will learn to know whether she likes
pink or not.

I saw her on Saturday, and
on Sunday I was
inspired by her.

Hope your week will be wild and free.
–
Jane A. Odartey 

P.S. After I wrote this post I went out for a little walk and guess who I run into again. She was twirling, about three yards, ahead of her mother. Wearing a pink top this time. When I reached her mother, I stopped her and told her, her daughter is beautiful. She laughed silently, shaking her head, then said thank you.