Brown Like Me: The Need for Representation in Toys

By Kiron Mukherjee

Note from the Sci/Why team: Kiron Mukherjee is ROMKids Coordinator and Camp Director for the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto and a science communicator, if not a regular poster on Sci/Why. He recently wrote this article for his own online use. However, representation is just as important in science and children's literature as it is in toys, so he has kindly given us permission to reproduce his column here. CE

Kiron says: "Toby and I, hung on my Mother’s fridge,
probably in the same place since it was put up in the early 90s."
Margaret Cameron photo

Only 80s kids will remember.

Many Christmas moons ago, Cabbage Patch Kids were all the rage -- depending on your generation, they were the original Hatchimals, Tamagotchi, or Tickle Me Elmo. Cabbage Patch Kids were roughly baby in size, with fabric bodies and clothes, plastic heads, and painted eyes that shone with cuteness. Every kid had to have one, and every parent wanted to make a holiday wish come true.

I got my Cabbage Patch doll when I was four. His name was Toby and Toby was brown like me. As a kindergartener, I didn’t understand race or differences in society, but I knew that Toby looked like me in a world of toys that never did.

Toby was patient, understanding, and kind. And as an only child, with my only mom, Toby was family for many of my young years.

***

Margaret Cameron, my mom, is white and the youngest of four children of farmers near Woodstock, Ontario. My father was brown and born in India, and ran away from our family shortly after I was born. I was the child of two widely different backgrounds, but with only one around to raise me.

My mom spent much of my childhood exposing me to diverse cultures and ideas, and, whenever I would let her, my Indian heritage. She was eager to share her side of our family, and I enthusiastically accepted it. But when she would engage me with my father’s side, I pushed back hard -- I was scared. I remember not wanting to be near Indian food or really anything concerning the man I had no memories of. But something I couldn’t run away from was the colour of my skin.

Like most toys, at least when I was young, Cabbage Patch Kids came in a variety of white. White girls and boys, where brown and black was saved for hair.

My mom wanted me to have a doll just like everyone else, but desired it to look like me: “I thought it was important that you saw yourself in the face of Toby, especially as everyone else in your 'blood family' circle was white.”

Beyond simply the colour of Toby’s skin, my mom had another reason for getting me my new friend: “It was still rare at the time to encourage boys to nurture and care for a baby doll. I wanted you to know that you had it in you, even though you only had me as a role model on what a parent was.”

***

Finding Toby wasn’t easy. Shelves weren’t exactly filled with diverse toy options -- most of the dolls were white. My mom was only able to get a brown boy Cabbage Patch Kid after meeting a distributor of the toys and getting it directly from him.

I played with other toys -- my mom likes to bring up the Ernie doll I was in love with as a toddler -- but it was essential to have a diverse cast of characters in my room, just like those in life.

“There were a lot of brown faces surrounding you all day with your caregivers, then you would come home to me. Toby helped populate our place and normalize the notion that there could be other people of colour in our home, even if they were only dolls. I wanted you to feel safe in your identity wherever you were.”

Kiron says: "Ernie and I, twinning."
Margaret Cameron photo

To this day, my mom doesn’t know where the name Toby comes from. I have only the faint sense that I took it from my favourite Thomas the Tank Engine character, Toby. Curiously, that Toby also has their train painted brown.

***

My mom spent so much of my childhood opening my eyes to all sorts of possibilities in the world, and the great diversity of people. But she also wanted me to value who I was as well.

“When kids are very little they look at Bert and Ernie and Elmo… and love them no matter how they look, no matter their differences. But in this case, I wanted you to have someone to look at as the same.”

In many ways, this is one of the first times I felt like I took ownership in my mixed-race identity. Though I would not truly understand the consequences of being brown in a predominantly white society until later in life, this was a small act of solidarity for who I was.

Toby was my friend, and Toby was brown like me.

DePizan Awards go to Three Amazing Scientists! Who Ahem Happen to be Women...

Posted by Helaine Becker

Earlier this month I had the privilege of attending the award ceremony for the De Pizan Awards, given by the National Women's History Museum in Washington, DC. The awards are named for Christine de Pizan, the first woman in the West to write about women's history (that was in the 14th century!).

This year, the awards went to three incredible women, all of whom worked in STEM fields, and all of whom work to make the world a better place.

The first was Sally Jewell, Secretary of the Interior. Trained as an engineer, Jewell has worked tirelessly for environmental issues. The award she received is named for Rachel Carson, scientist and the author of Silent Spring, the book that 'kickstarted' the environmental movement.

Sally Jewell accepting her award, chokes up as she thanks her 'brave' grade 4 teacher!

Jewell gave a moving speech in which she thanked yet another woman for inspiring her love of science - her 4th grade teacher. She said how this 'brave woman' took an entire class of 9-year-olds out into the woods for two weeks to give them a chance to explore, and to do science investigation in the field. She owes her career, she said, to this one great lady.


The second winner was Katherine G. Johnson, a pioneering mathematician who calculated the trajectories to the moon for the Apollo space program. She received the Maria Mitchell Award, named for an influential American astronomer and educator (more about Katherine below!)

Katherine Johnson sent a video acceptance for her award.

Johnson's daughters, Kathy and Joylette, shown here with NWHM's President,
 Joan Wages, accepting the award on Johnson's behalf.

The third award went to  Debbie Sterling, the inventor of Goldieblox. Sterling earned a degree as a Mechanical Engineer. She tells how she had a revelation when visiting a toy store, and being shocked and disgusted by the 'pinkified' toy aisles featuring toys ' for girls' - toys that included ironing boards and dress up princess outfits. She decided she'd use her training as an engineer to create construction toys that would defy stereotype and convention. Check out this PSA which Sterling spearheaded: "This is Your Brain on Princess."

Debbie Sterling, accepting her award, speaks out against sexism and 'pinkification.'

I had attended the event because I intend to write a biography about Katherine Johnson. I learned about her inspiring career this past summer, when working on a book about space for National Geographic Kids. I was shocked - and disgusted - that there isn't a single book about Katherine Johnson out there.

Why is this? It's not bad enough that girls and women have been denied opportunities in the STEM fields.

Or that girls and women are told, explicitly and implicitly, that science careers are not for women (witness the pinkified toy aisles, or the teacher who holds up one of my science-related books in front of a class and says, 'You boys will like this one!').

But even when women DO make careers in science, and contribute hugely, like Katherine Johnson, their accomplishments are ignored, swept under the carpet, neglected. Their stories are lost to history, confirming what is patently false: that women don't do science.

Here is the truth:

Women do science. They excel at science. They make great discoveries and advance the knowledge of the human race, just as capably as men.

So I have decided to correct the injustice, in my own small way, by making it my 'mission' to tell stories like Johnson's. I'm a writer, and a science writer. I can do this!

But where to start?

In August, I contacted the Johnson family and told them what I wanted to do. I asked for Johnson's blessing, and permission to interview her and her family about her extraordinary life.

Johnson was delighted - no one had ever asked her if they could write a children's book about her! It turns out she'd volunteered as a literacy tutor for much of her adult life, so the idea of having children be able to read about her...well, let's just say it made her happy to imagine kids being inspired by her story.

That initial conversation brought me to D.C. for the De Pizan awards, where I was able to meet Johnson's family in person for the first time.  They have so, so graciously invited me into their lives, and are giving me the opportunity to conduct interviews with them all! I am looking forward both to getting to know this wonderful family better, and to hearing what I am sure are going to be some incredible stories.

I know I'm not alone in wanting to tell stories like Johnson's. The We Need Diverse Books campaign evolved out of frustration at the glacial pace of change in the children's book industry. The campaign seeks to correct the imbalance that exists in children's books, which still predominantly feature subjects and authors that are primarily white and primarily male.  (For more info, see  stats here.)

So let's get cracking! Please support the We Need Diverse Books Campaign, and the National Women's History Museum!