I recently purchased a toy I had as a child, and it brought up more than nostalgia.
In a recent video on my channel where I talked about my vintage Barbie collection, I told the story about "the Ken who ruined Christmas." It's a story I've told often, on podcasts and at shows; it's gotten some great mileage as a story of a little queerdo growing up in the 80s when toys were at their most gendered. Definitely check out the video if you want to know more, and see which Ken I was talking about.
Once I had a Ken in my hot little hands, it made me want a Barbie even more! Ken and Barbie. Barbie and Ken. They are meant to be a pair, and if I was only going to have one of them, it definitely wasn't going to be that molded-hair disaster!
I'm not sure how long after the Ken incident it was, but I was in the Minot Target with my mom and I convinced her to let me get another Ken - you know, so that Ken #1 would have a friend and not be lonely. I mean, if that's not foreshadowing... (see also: gay as FUCK)
But she was standing with me in the toy aisle, and I knew that she was going to try to ruin my plan! I told her that I wanted to pick one out myself and that she should just give me the money and I would meet her at the car. By some miracle, she agreed!
The plan was to get her to go away, grab a Barbie, hit the checkout, and get my contraband into the car before she could notice what was up.
But something stopped me from grabbing that blonde Barbie. It felt too forbidden, too off limits.
My compromise? I bought Barbie's Asian friend, Miko.
There's a lot to unpack here! As an adult, I'm horrified by this!
First, as a queer person who grew up in the 80s, I understood that things were super gendered. I never really understood "the rules," but I knew they were there, and I knew that I was always getting them wrong. I was doing things, choosing things, liking things that were wrong. And that wrongness caused me shame.
My transgressions were about wanting what Barbie represented: the ideal of beauty standards at the time, the blonde tan perfection of the female figure. Something in me loved the trappings of femininity, and I was constantly reminded that this desire was not appropriate for me.
I couldn't have verbalized it then, but I understood that in mainstream culture, black-haired non-white Miko had less cultural "value" than Barbie. I was hoping that this compromise would be less of a transgression, that I would be in less trouble for committing it, and that it would cause me less shame.
Second, looking back on this moment is key to helping me understand unconscious, internalized racism.
Why? Because the compromise I made felt like a compromise. It isn't just that I can recognize that society writ large places more value on blonde white Barbie, but I did as well. I wanted that blonde Barbie, and valued her more than I valued Miko. I didn't feel the same joy adding her to my collection as I thought I would have. I felt like I was giving something up.
It's a new piece of the trauma, looking back: I felt the shame at the time for wanting this doll, and now I feel the shame of realizing that I devalued the Miko doll because she wasn't that blonde ideal.
That obsession with blonde hair has continued to adulthood. Except for the rare diversion into some other vivid color that's not a natural hair color, like teal or hot pink, I still bleach my hair. My drivers license listed my hair as blonde until a couple of years ago, when I finally conceded that my hair color was entirely fictitious. Look, I showed up to a few of those renewals with roots that were longer than the actual part of my hair that was blonde, but I still checked blonde and they didn't challenge me on it. Maybe we're all living in our own little Barbie world...
So, I had my Miko doll, but I immediately started plotting my next scheme: get a "real" blonde Barbie. Eventually I did: Dream Glow Barbie.
In the Barbie video I included above, I told a funny story about how when I went to buy the doll, I tried to cover my tracks by asking if they did gift wrap because the doll was a present for my sister - not realizing that the cashier probably knew who I was, and that I didn't have a sister.
And I do think that story is funny. I could be a bit of a schemer as a kid...well, probably still am! I was always trying to get my way.
But that story is another example of how I felt shame for wanting the things that I wanted, for being interested in dolls and jewelry and little ponies, and all of the things that I wasn't supposed to have.
The first time I read this quote, I didn't even tear up. I just had to sit in silence and comprehend how profoundly, resonantly true that felt for my experience.
A lot of my toy collecting is about reclaiming joy, reclaiming those childhood desires that I had that were off limits. It's about allowing myself femininity. Experiencing these desires again without shame.
And I don't blame anyone for that shame - I had a lot of female action figures from different lines, I had My Little Ponies, I had lots of odds and ends of the feminine-coded things I desired. My mom wasn't very happy that I had lied to her in my little Miko acquisition scheme, but she never made me get rid of Miko or the Dream Glow Barbie I got later.
The shame was all there in the culture, and it was very easy to internalize.
Side note: I realize that it might seem weird for a big old drag queen to talk about feeling shame around femininity, but in some ways creating this drag persona that I've lived in is another way that I've been working through the shame and confusion that I've felt around my own gender identity and gendered experiences in the world. I created a persona where feminity was not only something I was allowed to explore, but something I was celebrated for.
As an adult, I'm thankful to have this experience to look back on, to help me unpack how I felt about myself and my relationship to femininity. And I'm glad that it allowed me to see and understand my own internalized racism.
If I can be #ControversialYetBrave, if you are a white person who grew up in the United States, you have some internalized racism. That's not a judgment or a condemnation, it's just a fact. And recognizing that isn't about wallowing in the shame of it, or in the guilt, because when you do that you don't evolve.
This experience helped me to recognize it, identify it, so that I could do my best to unlearn it. And any experience that does that, once you can process the shame and heal from that, is a blessing.
When you know better, do better.
And while it is important to reclaim my own queer joy, to heal and celebrate that weird little sissy kid who just wanted a blonde fashion doll in a glittering gown, it's just as important to work on unlearning those unconscious attitudes that cause me to not show up as my best self. We can heal our trauma, or we can keep passing it on to those around us.
And that's why Miko needed a place in my collection. She brought me a moment to reflect back on my younger self, release the shame and the negative thoughts that surround that moment, and give her a chance to sit in her own unique beauty. Just like me.
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