As I was getting ready to leave the beach, I watched a family settle right on top of the pink-ribbon-marked area—the protected space for hatching sea turtles. The dad flopped down on his towel, their bags leaned against the wooden post holding up the delicate barrier. I could’ve stayed quiet. But I didn’t.
I stood up and used my voice—for the voiceless. Walking over to them about a studio apartment worth of space between us…
“Hey,” I said gently, “do you know these are hatching areas? As a local, it’s suggested you give them some space. These ribbons mark protected nesting zones.”
The woman’s eyes widened. She instantly nudged her partner up and they moved, no argument. But the whole situation reminded me how many people just don’t know. There’s no clear signage. Well there is but clearly not enough. The lifeguard towers are far apart, and honestly, lifeguards have a different job to do.
Why isn’t there more awareness around this? Even the sound pollution alone is probably disruptive to these little hatchlings finding their way to the ocean. Maybe we don’t need more signs (wasteful), but hotels and resorts can easily add this to their check-in orientation or beach info cards. Or better yet—train beach ambassadors or volunteers to educate tourists kindly.
This moment brought me back to Lola—my pet turtle from middle school all the way through college. A Chinatown baby who lived through my Madrid abroad semester, breakups, makeups, and that brutal final senior semester. She was my grounding force when everything around me was breaking open. I could feel the moon’s rhythm on her shell. I could feel her wisdom.
I even knew when it was her time. The day she passed, I was hiking in Kingston with the founders of Cacao Lab. My mom laid her in a bed of rose petals and the next night we placed her in our fire pit to rest. That night, a light woke her up—Lola’s spirit glowing in the corner of the room before rising to the stars.
So maybe this post is just a love letter. To turtles. To slowing down. To speaking up even when it’s awkward. And to those moments that remind us we’re part of something bigger.
Tourists of Miami, please give the turtles some space. Hotels, do better at educating. Miami Beach government, there’s work to do.
And as for me—I’m leaving soon. But I’ll keep using my voice until I go.
xoxo,
V
Your local, for now.
