Three American Girl dolls with a message for Latinas (and everyone else)

On Sept.17, just two days into Hispanic Heritage Month, American Girl released the doll and character Raquel Reyes, the 2026 Girl of the Year. She is introduced as the great-great-granddaughter of Samantha Parkington — my favorite American Girl historical character, and the first heroine who taught me that compassion could change the world.

As an author and an educator, I think about the book “Samantha Learns a Lesson” every time I open my classroom door to students from every background imaginable and every time I sit down to write with the responsibility of shaping conversations that speak to audiences across age, culture and lived experience.

I discovered Samantha through a chance encounter with the Pleasant Company catalog in kindergarten. My parents couldn’t afford the doll, so only her books were within reach — at first through the Los Angeles Public Library, and later when I proudly owned the boxed set in fourth grade. My mom and I would walk or take the bus to the library, because she didn’t own a car. We didn’t own much at all. But I did have my own library card, and through it, Samantha became part of my life.

Samantha Parkington, brought to life by author Susan S. Adler, was raised in privilege at the turn of the 20th century. Yet her story resonated because she cared deeply about fairness. She stood up for her best friend, Nellie, a servant girl, when it was considered improper for a girl of her class to do so. When Samantha was 10 years old, she even created the “Mount Better School” in the tower of her house so Nellie could learn, because she believed she could offer something that Mount Bedford School could not.

That spirit sparked something in me as I grew older. Like Samantha, I dreamed of creating a school that would meet unmet needs. I envisioned middle schoolers attending workshops led by community members — choreographers, carpenters, entrepreneurs, mechanics — where students could learn trades and skills in addition to academics. I imagined partnering with local mom-and-pop restaurants so cafeteria menus could include both healthy choices and the diverse flavors of the community. Samantha saw potential where others saw limitations, and I carry that same vision into my classroom and on the page.

Now a new generation of Samantha’s family has a message for a new generation of readers. Raquel Reyes connects heritage and legacy in a way no other American Girl character has. Written by Angela Cervantes, “Raquel Reyes’ Diary” explores her family’s Mexican American identity. Her dad’s Mexican side and her mom’s Anglo side both shape her, and her story shows how family history ripples through generations. Even in small details — like Raquel’s passion for paletas echoing Samantha’s love of peppermint ice cream — readers see that common ground across cultures and centuries is both possible and believable.

Through Raquel’s diary, we even learn that Samantha grew up to become a teacher and opened a girls’ school in the 1920s. That revelation felt like a full-circle moment: Samantha’s compassion lived on in Raquel as it had in me. In the book, you see that this compassion became a family trait, apparent in the way Raquel worries for her Pomeranian, Luzita, with the same fierce devotion her cousin Harper shows in protecting sea life. Compassion isn’t abstract in their stories; it’s lived, practiced and embodied in the small, daily choices to care for others.

Raquel’s arrival also reopens questions about representation because of her resemblance to Maritza Ochoa, another character written by Cervantes. Maritza, introduced in 2021, is a soccer player and track star who becomes an immigrant activist. On the page, Raquel and Maritza are distinct. On the shelf, they are nearly identical — both light-skinned Latinas with dark hair and only minor differences in eye color. This is where Mattel and American Girl LLC missed the mark. Latinas come in every shade imaginable. In my family alone, skin tones range from very fair to deep brown, with hair and eye colors just as varied. To release Raquel looking so much like Maritza flattens that richness, leaving girls who don’t fit that narrow image once again searching for themselves.

And Cervantes missed a different opportunity in “Lead With Your Heart,” the 2021 book that introduced Maritza. It briefly mentions Dreamers — children brought to the United States who have grown up here without permanent legal protections — but quickly shifts to a family reunification plot. That choice mirrors what has happened in Congress, where the original Dream Act was introduced in 2001 and has since been revised more than 20 times without passing. Nearly 25 years later, Dreamers are still in limbo, their futures uncertain. Many of them are American Girl readers and fans. To leave their story offstage is to repeat the very silence they already live with.

American Girl has never shied away from bold stories. Samantha taught us that compassion could be a force for justice. Raquel shows the power of heritage, legacy and claiming space as a Mexican American girl in a long American story. Maritza reminded us that activism can take root in something as simple — and as powerful — as a soccer field. For all three, the heart of the lesson is the same: girls can lead, girls can inspire, and girls can change the world.

The next American Girl stories are waiting to be told by women who have been sidelined but are living the bold lives that other generations need to hear about.

Carolina Coronado is a Latina educator and the author of “Quinceañera: Una Nueva Etapa.”