Dolls Like Me : These Days, Playthings More Accurately Reflect Our Diverse Cultures

Although she’s only 25, Angelique Giles can still remember a time when it seemed that dolls came in only one color.

“Back then, if you were going to get a doll it was white,” says Giles, a Lynwood resident and mother of Michel’le, 2. “Now they have dolls, like Barbie dolls, and Cabbage Patch and Raggedy Ann-style dolls that are black. It’s a good thing, but you look back on it and say, ‘Now why didn’t they have that when I was a little kid?’ ”

Cultural diversity in dolls and other toys is an old issue, but a new trend. Actually, in 1968, the year Giles was born, Mattel introduced a black companion to Barbie--the world’s most popular doll with sales of more than $1 billion this year. But Christie, like other early “ethnic” dolls, was criticized as simply a white doll molded out of brown plastic, not a true representation of African Americans.

In recent years, however, toy makers have created nonwhite dolls that more accurately reflect the characteristics of other races. Stroll through any Toys R Us store--where nearly one out of every four toys are sold in the United States--and you’ll find a vast array of culture-specific dolls, ranging from Tyco’s “Kenya, the Beautiful Fashion Doll” to black, Latino and Asian versions of Barbie to “My Buddy” boy dolls in black and white versions from Playskool. Mattel’s “Baby Rollerblade” comes in black and white versions, as does Tyco’s “Mommy’s Having A Baby” pregnant doll, subtitled “Help Mommy Have Her Baby Again and Again!” The list goes on.

“It’s just not acceptable anymore if a doll only comes in white,” says Michael Goldstein, vice chairman of Toys R Us. “I’m not saying the situation is perfect, but it’s definitely improving.”

Also on the shelves is an increasingly wide variety of toys and dolls manufactured by minority-owned toy makers, such as Minneapolis-based Cultural Exchange Corp. and New York-based Olmec Corp.

“The big boys (toy manufacturers) have stuck their toe in the multicultural water,” says Cultural Exchange President Jacob Miles, an African American and former Tonka toy-company executive whose fledgling company makes toys geared toward blacks, Latinos and other groups. “But what they’ve traditionally done is just mold dolls in brown plastic and say, ‘OK, here’s your doll.’ We’ve made our dolls and toys more reflective of the facial features and characteristics of African Americans and Hispanics and other multicultural groups.”

Olmec was founded in 1985 by Yla Eason after she heard her 4-year-old son say that he wanted to be like He-Man--a popular blond action figure of the time--but couldn’t because he is black. The company started out with a black action figure called “Sun-Man,” who derived power from the melanin in his skin. Later the company began selling--through Toys R Us and other stores and catalogues--a wide range of dolls and toys, including “Imani, the African American Princess,” and Bronze Bombers, military figures based on all-black American military units. They also have Latina “toddler dolls” and a Latina fashion doll called “Consuela.”

Like most companies in the highly competitive toy business, neither Olmec nor Cultural Exchange would provide sales figures.

“It’s getting better. They (toy companies) are starting to target Latinos and other groups more,” says Abelardo de la Pena Jr., 40, communications director for the Mexican-American Legal Defense and Education Fund in Los Angeles and the father of six children--including an 11-year-old adopted daughter, Debra, who is of Mexican-Cuban-African descent. “I remember when my 11-year-old was 7 or 8, Barbie was her ideal, and she wanted to have long blond hair. It was hard. We had to look around, but we finally found her a Kenya doll--they come in three different shades--to show her, here, this is you, and you’re beautiful.”

“Eight years ago most buyers for mass marketing (toy) outlets were apprehensive about buying black or Hispanic dolls,” says Renau Daniels, national sales manager for Olmec. “They always maintained that blacks and Hispanics wanted white dolls. But what we discovered was that customers were not given a choice of attractive black or Hispanic dolls. . . . When given a choice, they go for our dolls.”

The reason for this growing attention to African American and Latino toy buyers is simple: money.

“The African-American and Hispanic communities have been speaking out,” says Diane Cardinale, assistant communications director for the Toy Manufacturers Assn. of America, which represents 260 toy manufacturers and U.S.-based importers nationwide. “They’ve been saying, we want toys that reflect our culture. And one thing they (toy manufacturers) can’t ignore is the tremendous buying power of these groups.”

African Americans, who spent almost $1 billion on toys and games last year (out of about $17 billion spent similarly nationwide), and Latinos now compose about 20% of the U.S. population, with birthrates exceeding those of the white population. Of 34 million children 5 to 14 years old in the United States, 16% are black and 11% are Latino, and the numbers are growing. They are, in short, an expanding market for toy manufacturers.

Wisconsin-based Pleasant Co., which markets the “American Girl” line of books and dolls that depict young girls from various stages of American history, recently added “Addy Walker” to its line. Addy was born a slave in the Civil War era but escaped to the North and a new life. The doll and a paperback version of the first book in the Addy series sell for $82, and accessories such as a wooden trunk sell for up to $150.

But although the numbers make African Americans and Latinos increasingly attractive to manufacturers of culture-specific toys, numbers also mean that many smaller minority groups are not being targeted by toy makers. Mass marketing by definition has difficulty embracing non-mass groups.

“I think it’s great that they (other minority groups) have toys directed toward them,” says Pele Faletogo, 49, of Carson, who is Samoan and the father of a 5-year-old daughter, D’Moana, and a 4-year-old son, Fagaomalo, also known as Lance. “But hey, what about us? I wish somebody would make toys that are directed at the Samoan culture. This is very important to me as a father.”

Noting that there are up to 500,000 Samoans nationwide, Faletogo said, “If they would put them (Samoan-oriented toys) on the shelves, we would buy them.”

“That would depend on how vocal they are, how organized they are,” Cardinale said when asked about the likelihood of major toy makers targeting relatively small groups such as Samoans. She added that “political elements” as well as financial ones sometimes can have an effect on toy makers’ production decisions.

But is having culture-specific toys available really important?

Almost everyone in the toy industry seems to agree that the market for culturally diverse toys is primarily parent-driven, not kid-driven. Ask young girls clustered at the “fashion doll” counter at a toy store if cultural diversity is a big issue in their doll-buying habits and you’ll get a collection of shrugs and “I dunno’s.”

For some parents, though, having culturally diverse toys available is vital.

“I think it’s very important,” says Janelle Cromwell, 31, of West Hollywood. Cromwell, who is white, and her husband, Carl McManus, who is black, have an 8-month-old son, Max. “I think it’s important for all kids, black or white or anything else, to learn about other people. Racism is very subtle, and openness and tolerance start in the home. I think even a white family should get their kids Hispanic or Asian or black-oriented books or toys, so they can learn about other cultures.”

Others don’t necessarily agree.

“It really doesn’t matter,” says Juan De Leon, 36, a house painter in the central city who with his wife, Dora, has a 6-year-old daughter, Tanya, and a 10-year-old son, Rudy. “They want the toys everybody else has. That’s what I buy them.”

“In my case, I don’t think it’s very important,” says Hisako Hashizume, 30, who was born in Japan but now lives in Van Nuys with her Argentine husband and their 7-month-old son. “My son is an American. Maybe later, when he is older, I will want him to learn Japanese things, but not now.”

Glenda Ahhaitty, 53, a mother and grandmother and a Native American, doesn’t think mass market toy makers would, or even could, target the 1-million-plus Native Americans.

“They couldn’t get it right anyway,” says Ahhaitty, noting the physical and cultural differences between the many Native American tribes. “It would wind up being a stereotype.” Besides, “There are so many survival issues facing us right now”--poverty, unemployment and so on--”that toys are something way down on the list.”