Sunday, November 23, 2014

My Belated Eulogy (or Whatever) to the True American Girls Collection

Mattel bought American Girl in the late 90s, then slowly destroyed all that was good about it. This is old news, and I already had my period of mourning. I distinctly remember posting something on my social media feed with some short, frustrated comment ("ugh" or "NO." or something inarticulate like that) because the American Girls book series was a pretty important part of my childhood. But after a friend posted an old article about this topic and I read a couple of comments on the post, I was reminded of the frustration and the disappointment of what American Girls have become.

In particular, it was one person's comment in response to my friend's post that did it for me. She said that and a fourth grader lent her one of the books so that she could understand how difficult it is to choose between extracurriculars and studying for class. The series not only has been reduced to girls and their "first world problems," but has apparently become (at least in this instance) a tool for young girls to support whining about such problems rather than an inspiration to them to face the controversial issues of the day. When I read this person's story, I felt as if something that was part of my childhood had been utterly deformed and destroyed.



To me American Girls was never about the dolls. It was all about the books for me. (As a matter of fact, I was so uninterested in the dolls that I don't think I even knew that the stories came from the dolls rather than the other way around until long after my first contact with the books.) When I first started reading the books, there were four girls in the series--Felicity, Kirsten, Samantha, and Molly (in order of time period)--with Addy debuting some time after I finished reading all 24 books that were out at the time. I must have been six or seven because the ten year-old heroines of the series seemed very much older to me. Every time we went to the book store, my mom would buy me one or two books, and I would go through them with fervor.

My favorite was Felicity, the girl living in colonial Williamsburg who has now unfortunately been "retired" to the doll farm. And I'm sure anyone who knows me would say, "of course." Felicity was the tomboy. She was an independent spirit, stubborn, and a bit rash at times (just like me, then and now). She was brave. She stood up to bullies and was not afraid to face controversial issues while showing respect to those who did not share her views.

Felicity's stories (as well as the other girls' stories) taught me many things. They gave me a peak into the lives of children in different historical times. They taught me important values like not shying away from difficult issues brought on by greater social forces. Even if I didn't know it then, I think my six, seven, eight year-old self wanted to be like Felicity: brave, unwilling to be tied down by social expectations, and unafraid to grapple with the big issues when many people want to ignore them.

Organic gardening and saving the arts (both of which are apparently among the "issues" that the new girls stand up for) are not bad causes to stand for, but the American Girls books I grew up with brought up much thornier issues, historically and politically. For example, Felicity dealt with loyalty and maintaining personal beliefs in the face growing political tensions in the late colonial period. Kirsten's stories brought up the treatment of Native Americans during the westward expansion of settlers. Samantha addressed class privilege and social policy in the Victorian era. And Molly faced the impact of World War II on daily life. Each girl was affected by big issues of their day in personal ways and had opportunities to think, learn, and grow. And the best part (at least for me) was that the readers had the opportunity to learn about different times and then to think and grow with the girls as well.

In contrast, the new girls face what Alexandra Petri of the Washington Post aptly describes as "few problems that a bake sale wouldn't solve." This is kind of embarrassing and insulting to the origins of American Girls. It's a shame that girls today are not getting the same kind of messages from American Girls that I did. It's a shame that this once politically and historically conscious product for girls has turned into just another cute toy with some cute little stories. Maybe, to make up for our loss of the real American Girls, we'll get a civics equivalent of GoldieBlox someday--you know, toys that provide role models and support for women in politics and policy.