Why Can’t American Girls Just Be Girls?
Haley Rhodes
aug 2020
The American Girl “Logan” doll released in 2017.
Where can you travel from the world of colonial Williamsburg to a 1914 Jewish household in New York City, to a Civil War plantation, and finally to the present-day beaches of California—all in one afternoon and without ever going outdoors? Ask that question to the owner of one of the 32 million American Girl Dolls that have been sold and they will be quick to tell you that if this is the adventure you crave, you need only visit one of the nation’s nineteen American Girl Stores. Since 1986, American Girl has celebrated young female-identifying children and empowered them to be themselves through lines of historical and contemporary dolls, accessories, books, movies, and magazines. So of course, the internet rejoiced when American Girl opened its doors to boys by introducing Logan in 2017—the first in a line of male American Girl dolls. The introduction of a male doll appears to be a step in the right direction towards a gender inclusive society that deemphasizes and challenges “differences” between girls and boys.
This seems like a welcome step in the right direction, does it not? After all, even in 2020, it is virtually impossible to walk into a Target or Walmart store without noticing the stark contrast between the aisles filled with pink, dolls, and glitter; and then the aisles of action figures, cars, and building sets. Even with Target’s commitment to de-labeling toys by gender, it is pretty obvious to which gender a toy is being marketed by the images of who is playing with the toy on the packaging and the genders of the characters being advertised. A quick search in the toy category on the Walmart website also reveals the option to sort by “girl” or “boy” toys. If society communicates to the youngest generation that girls and boys are not only binary categories, but also so fundamentally different that they need to play with separate kinds of toys, what is to stop those children from making a logical leap to the conclusion that there must be binary gender differences in social roles and jobs, or even intelligence and abilities? Not to mention the inevitable reinforcement such toys convey of gender binary ideals and gendered social norms.
Thus, it seems quite reasonable to declare the introduction of a boy American Girl doll an historical step in challenging gender roles. The majority of the internet seems to agree. For example, the Huffington Post hailed Logan as “kind of a big deal” (Pittman), and the Chicago Tribune agreed, emphasizing that “providing kids—girls and boys—a boy character to learn about and imagine with is a welcome step in teaching them that care taking, empathy and playfulness aren’t gender-specific traits. We all benefit when they’re cultivated, and the more we hear this message, the better” (Stevens). There is no question these are valid points—societal gender messages are in dire need of a renovation and a vital aspect of that is erasing binary and “gender-specific” traits and norms. Indeed, it almost seems obligatory to declare any attempt at equality and eradication of stereotypes an unquestionable success. That was certainly the conclusion of most commentators.
But let’s think a bit more carefully about American Girl’s decision. Does the instinctive reaction to deem it progress towards equality for all gender identities overlook the original intent of the brand to empower female-identifying children, and in the end undermine female rights and equality? Let us recall why American Girl was created in the first place. In 1986, American Girl launched its historical character line, for the express purpose of demonstrating the important roles females played in shaping United States history. Unlike their male counterparts, girls do not have the privilege of opening any history book and reading about the successes of other females. From the founding fathers, to every president and military hero, to most politicians, composers, scientists, and inventors, it is easy to get lost in a sea of men and wonder what, other than children, women contributed to the modern world. Childhood is a critical stage in development and societal messages are easily ingrained in the identities and images children form about themselves. With this in mind, American Girl’s original mission is vital to ensure female-identifying children are provided with empowering messages about girls both modern and historic who display admirable qualities and demonstrate how girls just like them—albeit represented by fictional characters—can leave a mark. That is a narrative freely available to males, but not always to females. The introduction of male characters thus takes away the focus and intent of the brand. American Girl was created for girl-identifying children because girls needed a space to be celebrated. Boys have long had that space. From this perspective, American Girl’s focus on a celebration of female experiences filled a necessary role and is worth preserving.
Furthermore, the inclusion of a male-identifying doll in the collection should be more meaningful than the addition of a white boy who plays guitar and has no connection to female history or empowerment. Instead, inclusion could and should mean encouraging male-identifying children to engage with material and products that promote positive messages about females. Plenty of boys are interested in and play with American Girl dolls already. The brand has never excluded boys; its focus simply has never been on creating storylines and characters that represent them. The brand should not have to change its female narrative and messages; rather, boys should be encouraged by society to engage with and celebrate female-centered material—just like girls are encouraged to do with the male-centered material they encounter in history class every day.
Some commentators did recognize this perspective. In her article “Leave American Girls Alone,” New York Times writer Caity Weaver asks, “why must women increase diversity by welcoming men?” She emphasizes that white men like Logan are already celebrated by our society and argues that “maybe the company’s intention is to show boys that it’s O.K. to play with dolls… [but] it feels more like girls are losing something that used to be theirs alone.” While dismantling gender stereotypes in toys is generally a worthy goal, girl-identifying children should not lose out in the process. The path to inclusivity is not always paved through equality; but rather, by equity. In that sense, American Girl filled a unique role to promote equity in the toy market: normal-bodied girl dolls with messages about female empowerment. In addition to the above-described historical collection, American Girl also sells a line of “Truly Me” dolls that allows children to express their uniqueness by picking dolls that look like them, as well as “Girl of the Year” dolls, which reflect the concerns and interests of the present day female experience. Until the female-identifying childhood experience has equity in comparison to male experiences, brands, groups, and organizations that work to empower and encourage girls must have a place in the United States. This does not mean that boys should not play with American Girl dolls or be told it is wrong to play with dolls. It means that adding Logan to the American Girl lineup is not akin to changing pink and blue toys to more gender-neutral colors, or putting a picture of a girl on the box of Legos—the American Girl brand filled a unique and empowering role for female-identifying children that is watered down or even lost once the same messages are conveyed by male American Girl dolls.
That being said, in a society with some advocating for a complete eradication of the idea of gender, is it appropriate for a brand to promote messages to a “female” audience? While we may not agree that the addition of boy dolls is necessary to help males feel that it is okay to play with dolls, should American Girl not eliminate all gender to further the process of erasing gender-binary altogether? Does a brand of dolls focused on female-identifying children reinforce a concept that hurts transgender and gender-nonconforming youth? This is of course a valid and complicated question with nuanced answers. It is certainly true that when gender binary toys are the only options, some children feel excluded and a brand that caters to a “female” audience might contribute to these feelings. However, these feelings of exclusion should not negate or trump the historical marginalization of women. Historically, marginalization has occurred along binary gendered lines; so for the time being, individuals who are born or identify as what society has traditionally defined as “female” need brands that advocate for them and challenge inequality against them. We live in society where stereotypes are assumed and privileges are granted based on how an individual fits into societally-assigned categories of gender. While this continues to be the case, and gender continues to exist, there is still a place for brands like American Girl. Getting rid of gender labels does not get rid of the shared history and continued oppression of those who identify as and appear traditionally “female.”
Regardless of whether gender is socially constructed, in today’s society—while an increasingly non-two-pronged category—it does exist. It is indisputable that female and female identifying children have unique challenges that they will face based on how they look and the assumptions that have been traditionally made about them. Likewise, queer-identifying children also face a unique set of obstacles and are deserving of representation and narrative in their options of dolls and other playthings. However, these options should not come at the expense of cisgender female, transgender female, or other female-identifying children. Moreover, if one argues that American Girl should not exist as a “female” brand because it excludes gender non-binary children, does that also mean all organizations that promote female rights or feminism should not exist? Is it not ironic that after experiencing centuries of oppression, female-identifying individuals would be told once again that their rights must be subservient to the rights of others? As long as the concept of gender exists, some individuals will choose to identify as female and will benefit from representation and equality in their playthings. American Girl’s mission is to communicate messages about what it means to identify as female today. That mission is still relevant, still essential, and is very worthy of maintaining.
As Weaver states, “if Logan were being advertised as the company’s first transgender doll, his story would fit right in line with American Girl’s origin, imploring kids to consider sophisticated issues….” Isn’t that a great idea: why doesn’t American Girl focus on diversifying its representation of the female experience before diversifying by adding boy dolls? It seems indicative of the privilege cis-males experience in our society that brands like American Girl respond to concerns that boys are being left out and underrepresented before they address a lack of diversity in the female-identifying segments of society. After all, where is the Muslim American Girl? The girl doll with Down syndrome? The transgender doll? What about the girl with the prosthetic limb? Before American Girl strayed from its original intent of catering to and celebrating the female experience, I wish it had represented the intersectional spectrum of female experiences first.
But who is to say that Logan is not actually transgender or nonbinary? Is this just one more example of cisnormative and heteronormative assumption? Maybe American Girl is furthering a progressive message? If that were the case, it seems unlikely that Logan’s non-cis identity would not have been part of the advertisement and hype around Logan’s inclusion in the collection. Not only does Logan ascribe to “he/him” pronouns on the American Girl website and in the American Girl books, but nowhere in the discussion of his life’s story is there mention of a queer identity. Perhaps this is supposed to demonstrate that a queer identity does not need special mention—it should be implied to the same degree that cis identity is assumed?
However, American Girl books often depict the challenges the characters face, such as Gabriella’s stutter or Mckenna’s trouble with reading. Unfortunately, in today’s world, identifying as transgender or nonconforming brings obstacles that cis people do not face. With this being true, if Logan identified as anything other than a cis male, American Girl would have addressed these issues in its advertising, along with the stories of how he coped with having an “asthmatic brother” or a father who was often “away traveling.” The same can be said about the other American Girl dolls whose characterizations similarly lack any mention of a queer identity. Indeed, instead of creating a new diverse character, American Girl chose to spend its resources creating a white male who plays guitar in a band. While nothing prevents children from evolving and diversifying the storylines of Logan or any other doll on their own, perhaps by adding a transgender identity, the clear lack of inclusion of such backgrounds in advertising misses an opportunity to empower and educate children about what the “female” experience can be. Finally, it should be reiterated that boys need not be left completely behind. It is important that gender-specific messages begin to blur in order to cultivate a truly non-stereotyped, inclusive society. However, this does not mean that brands like American Girl that convey an empowering message to segments of society that need such messaging should dilute that message in the name of equality. In the words of Weaver, “Why can’t Hot Wheels unveil a new car that, in addition to being a die-cast miniature automobile, is also a confident woman who lives in a common-law marriage with a male surgeon—and guess what: She’s a surgeon, too, and she’s actually a better surgeon than he is?” While arguably a bit extreme, this example illustrates that brands catered to privileged groups, like “Hot Wheels,” should work to include other demographics before brands like American Girl cater to privileged groups. In the meantime, boys who want to take part in the American Girl experience should be encouraged to do so. They can read the stories and play with the dolls that represent fierce girls throughout history, and the girls who will continue to shape the world around them for the rest of their lives.
Works Cited
Pittman, Taylor. “American Girl Will Release Its First Boy Doll and It’s Kind of a Big Deal.” HuffPost, 14 Feb. 2017.
Stevens, Heidi. “At American Girl, Boy Doll Finally Meets World.” Chicago Tribune, 16 May 2019.
Weaver, Caity. “Leave American Girls Alone.” The New York Times, 18 Feb. 2017.