The Power and Responsibility of American Girl Dolls

On July 15, 2021, a Society for Historians of the Early American Republic (SHEAR) panel entitled “Liberty’s Daughters and Women of the Republic at 40: The Past, Present, and Future of Revolutionary Women’s History” – featuring Linda Kerber, Mary Beth Norton, Lauren Duval, Jacqueline Beatty, Adam McNeil, Maeve Kane, and Charlene Boyer Lewis – was so riveting that it made a virtual roundtable feel like it was in person. In the final moments of the roundtable discussion, someone mentioned that the Johnny Tremaine children’s book series offered an entry point to the American Revolution for boys and asked what an equivalent might be for girls. I typed into the chat “American Girl Dolls,” as Rosemarie Zagarri typed, “Liberty’s Kids.” I screen-shotted and tweeted the chat facetiously calling it the peak of my career, as enthusiastic Twitter replies rolled in regarding American Girl dolls. Back on the panel window, Linda Kerber suggested that someone’s dissertation should consider the political, economic, cultural, and commercial history of American Girl dolls. Though I remain unaware of any dissertation on this topic, a rise of American Girl doll analysis, nostalgia, public history, and scholarship is well underway.

My claims here are threefold. First, the rise of American Girl dolls in professional history communities is worth taking seriously. Second, the ever-increasing diversification of professional history communities – including historians who once played with American Girl Dolls – reflects the mission of the dolls themselves to offer entry points and representations to young girls. At the same time, not all girls had access to or even interest in these dolls. Third and finally, both strengths and weaknesses of what these dolls represent have likely influenced broader historical understanding.

Exhibit A of the American Girl dolls’ resurgence is a widely popular podcast entitled American Girls Podcast, co-hosted by PhD/public historians Allison Horrocks and Mary Mahoney. Guests have included Anne Helen Petersen, the Peak in the Pantry Blog, and yours truly. Listers cannot deny that Horrocks and Mahoney have built a devoted, engaged, formidable community. The co-hosts – both working public historians with doctorates – signed a book contract on the topic together, as fans await eagerly.

Earlier this year, Smithsonian Magazine writer Meilan Solly published an article entitled “The Enduring Nostalgia of American Girl Dolls.” Solly explores the interlocking themes of empowerment and nostalgia as many of today’s historians continue to embrace a doll franchise that once contributed to their interests in history. Solly quotes public historian Dominique Jean Louis, who recalls an “early sense [that] girls can do history, too, or girls can be part of history too.” This sentiment was central to the aforementioned SHEAR panel. Solly likewise quotes National Museum of American History historian Alex Piper: “American Girl made its characters relatable, opening an ‘entry point’ for children to immerse themselves in the nation’s history.” The subtitle of Solly’s article, “the beloved line of fictional characters taught children about American history and encouraged them to realize their potential,” reenforces the idea that American Girl dolls shaped consumers’ historical thinking about the U.S.

The influence of a commercial franchise on many historians’ childhoods has strengths and weaknesses. Its strength is that young girls felt represented in historical characters. The Black Chick Lit Podcast, for example, in one episode analyzed representation through Addy, an enslaved and then emancipated American Girl. The American Girl Podcast co-hosts both identify strongly with Molly whose story unfolded during World War II. Personally, I might buy the Jewish doll named Rebecca from 1914 – released in the early 2000s after I was too old to enjoy – as a dissertation gift for myself. Early-twentieth century Jewish immigrants play a key role in the final chapters of my dissertation on religion-state relations.

However, the American Revolution doll Felicity is emblematic of limits of representation that American Girl dolls provide. Felicity, the American Revolution doll, is white with bright red hair. Why do both Felicity Merriman and Liberty’s Kids’ Sarah Philips both have hair that matches an American flag? Did manufacturers intend for the aesthetics to be patriotic? Possibly. Yet why is the 1774 doll white and U.S.-centric? Did the 1764 doll Kaya’s story end a decade later when the Declaration of Independence signaled danger for her Nez Perce family in the American Northwest? What if the 1864 doll Addy Walker lived in 1619? Though progressive in a distinctly 1990’s style, American Girl dolls in many ways re-enforce a traditional narrative of American history. Thus, the franchise holds great power and responsibility.

The rise of American Girl dolls in collective scholarly consciousness has only begun.

Further Reading

Meilan Solly, “The Enduring Nostalgia of American Girl Dolls,” Smithsonian Magazine (3 June 2021) https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/evolution-american-girl-dolls-180977822/.

“Special Issue: Childhood, Consumption, Gender, and Public History,” The Public Historian, Volume 43 Issue 1 (February 2021) https://online.ucpress.edu/tph/issue/43/1.

Further Listening

Allison Horrocks and Mary Mahoney, American Girls Podcast, https://www.americangirlspod.com.

“Meet Addy,” Black Chick Lit Podcast (19 September 2018) https://blackchicklit.com/podcast/episode-23-meet-addy/.

Alli Hoff Kosik, “Meet Kirsten (American Girl) with (Kate Kennedy),” SSR Podcast (20 October 2020) https://www.ssrpodcast.com/listen/episode117.