An Open Letter to the American Girl Company

Dear American Girl,

I would like to preface this letter by simply saying thank you. To quote the Facebook group that I have joined entitled "The American Girl Collection Significantly Influenced My Formative Years" would be an understatement. Between early 1990 (and yes, I'll admit it) 1998 or 1999, The American Girl Collection not only influenced my childhood, it prolonged it. Not only that, but my first five (in the order they were acquired): Samantha, Felicity, Kirsten, Molly, and Addy, gave me a sense of history and my first awareness that the world I lived in existed long before me or any of my contemporaries. I remember my parents and grandmother (one of your biggest supporters, both theoretical and financial, who would most definitely share my indigence over what is happening to this company) reading about how Nellie, Samantha's maid had to work in a factory where one of the other girls got her hair caught in a spool and subsequently had her scalp ripped off. And how Kirsten's best little Swedish friend Marta died of cholera on the trip from Sweden to America. And how Addy's slave driver forced her to eat worms off of a tobacco plant. And how Molly's dad couldn't even be with her for her birthday because he was off in Europe during World War II being a military doctor. (Thank God he came home in Changes For Molly, by the way. While everyone else was at the Christmas pageant and Molly was the only one home, due to a cold she caught while going outside with wet hair because of the pincurls her sister Jill taught her to do to make her hair curly for her role as Miss Victory. Gets me every time.) These are pretty hefty lessons for a four year old, but I could hack it. I'm sure you caught some flack from other parents though, which is why you now slap an 8+ label on your products. I'm sure you think I'm referencing these facts on Wikipedia or something, but I'm really not. This is one of the few topics I, as a lowly Hollywood assistant, am qualified to call myself an expert on. So, with all due respect and gratitude for what you've allowed me to have: Listen up.

I am a frequent visitor of the American Girl Place in Los Angeles, and one day I found myself waylayed there, yet again, revisiting my childhood only to find that Samantha was gone. Wiped out. Extinct as a triceratops, her merchandise and clothing uprooted and replaced by another Victorian girl, a little Jewish aspiring actress of Samantha's same social status (rich) who doesn't even not look like her (Samantha was prettier). This troubled me deeply, as Samantha the first in my collection, and as they say, you never forget your first _______. That said, I understand that perhaps a Jewish Girl was a necessity, to protect your company against the claims of anti-Semitism that people are ready and willing to throw around at the drop of a hat, and Rebecca is without a doubt a very pretty Girl with very nice hair, so I was ready to let that one slide. I accepted the fact that my poor, nearly bald Samantha was officially now a rare breed, and sacrifices sometimes must be made.

I accepted it, that is, until yesterday. Yesterday I ventured to the second floor of the Los Angeles American Girl place with a couple of my friends, only to find that Kirsten has been "archived" (read: wiped out). Not only that, but Molly and her merchandise do not even have their own room anymore. Molly, whose father was off fighting Nazis while she was rationing sugar and planting Victory carrots, is left with nothing but a display case in a hallway. I can't help but get the sense that the hallway is to the American Girl Place what Florida is to the United States: Death's waiting room. Forgive me if this is speaking out of school, but who is more "American" than Molly? KAYA?!

I don't even want to delve into the existence of Kaya. I'm sorry, a Native American/Feathers-Not-Dots Indian/whatever the PC term du jour is who sleeps in a tee pee and wears fringed animal pellets exclusively? What little girl wants that? How can you effectively integrate Kaya's world into the civilized worlds that the other Girls live in, the Girls who sleep in beds? Even Addy has a bed. It's made of sticks, but it's still a bed. I'm trying to picture this in my bedroom circa 1995, which had each Girl's bed and accouterments set up in various stations around the room, and a tee pee just doesn't make sense. I can't help but feel that this snafu is directly related to Pleasant Company's merger with Mattel in 1998, as Kaya was released shortly thereafter. This was a bit after my time, so I do not have a Kaya doll, nor have I read her stories, but I hope to God she didn't live anywhere near Amherst, Massachusetts.

I just really think there was a definite lack of resourcefulness on this one, American Girl. Kirsten, you know, the blonde, blue eyed Swede that you just snuffed out like a Saint Lucia candle, had a secret Indian friend in the woods. Remember Singing Bird? There's your Native American doll! Just introduce Singing Bird, Kirsten's companion, and you not only get to keep one of the most compelling stories on your slate, you get to keep your minority doll! The five people on Earth who want to dress a doll in variations of the same pellet ensembles would be satisfied, and Kirsten could keep on keeping on. Phasing out the white Girls is not the answer here. Would you ever "archive" Addy? I think not. I would never have expected affirmative action to trickle down so severely that it started to tamper with ACTUAL HISTORY, but here you have it. And you have the power to make it stop.

I'm not going to touch upon the debacle over the recent release of the "homeless" Girl, because I think you've learned your lesson there. I'd also like to reiterate that I currently love your store. It represents a lot to me, and I still get a little teary when I go in. I'm about to turn twenty four and am seriously considering celebrating at the little tea house you have, particularly since I noticed you serve champagne cocktails there, which I am a huge fan of. My mother mailed me my Felicity doll unexpectedly in a box one day, and after the initial shock of opening a box only to find a doll lying in it, I was only happy to see her. Your product has profoundly influenced me, and I urge you to take what I've said into consideration before you fully dilute your wonderful Collection simply for the sake of arbitrary political correctness.

Sincerely,

Danielle