A Headmistress Reflects on Barbie World

When our first daughter was born, I vowed there would be no Barbies in our home. Growing up for thirteen years in a girls’ school and choosing a concentration in Women’s Studies within my English Major in college; I viewed Barbie as a synonym for all that was awry in sexist American culture. She was objectified for an unattainable physique. Acquiring all the accessories that were marketed with her seemed materialistic. And, perhaps, worst of all, she seemed vapid. I wanted better for my daughter.    

As a little girl, I inherited my older sister’s Barbies and enjoyed pulling their heads off to switch which head went on which body. I do not remember why this was entertaining since all the bodies were the same. Skipper interested me more than Barbie because she was like me, a little sister. I ignored Ken. My brother had drawn on him in indelible marker.   Dressing the dolls felt frustrating; their limbs didn’t bend and it seemed undignified to turn the dolls upside down to shimmy their narrow pants up their legs. Also, we never seemed to have panties to go under those very tight pants.  By the time another friend of my sister’s passed down her Barbie dreamhouse, I was too old to play much with dolls. Though I loved make-believe, I couldn’t quite imagine what Barbie might yearn to do.   In those days–the late 60’s, Barbie hadn’t yet become a career woman. She seemed, frankly, boring.  

Like so many of the grand schemes young parents imagine, mine fell to dust. At her second birthday, Miranda, our oldest, was given a Barbie by a nursery school classmate, whose mother, I recall, upon reflection, looked a lot like Barbie. Our feisty, independent toddler loved the bright pink packaging and Barbie’s fancy blonde curls. Should I have grabbed the doll from her reach? My husband and I exchanged a glance. Tears on a birthday because of this mother’s social conscience did not feel right. I don’t think I ever purchased a Barbie for our daughters, but I did let them play with my vintage Barbies, discovered in a plastic bag in a closet in my mother’s house.  They much preferred American Girl dolls, who came with books and even more expensive accessories.  

As the hype surrounding the film increased, I was not excited about seeing the Barbie movie.  But a colleague head said, “Ann, you’re the head of a girls’ school. You have to see it.” When reviews of the Barbie movie began to show up on my social media feed earlier this summer, I mostly ignored them. But then I read an interesting editorial that suggested this movie was more than maribou feathers and glitter.  Greta Gerwig, critics suggested, had upended our Barbie stereotype. Susan Faludi, whom I admire greatly, liked the film. Another head friend wrote her back-to-school letter about the movie. I had to go.

Dressed in the requisite pink, my son, Atticus, 19, and I went to the Barbie Movie. I was curious, skeptical at the beginning, totally hooked as Barbie encountered surly Sasha and her mom, the complicated and wonderful,Gloria, who was, in fact, glorious. Atticus reported to his older sisters that I cried the whole time, which is not accurate, but I did cry. So much of what Gloria said as she deprogrammed Barbies hypnotized by Ken’s adoption of a patriarchy in Barbieland resonated. Gloria’s monolgue mirrored conversations I have had for decades with girls and women as a teacher, mother and friend. It is complicated to be female. There are paradoxes that feel impossible to navigate, contradictions, judgements, societal norms, pressure. I felt as if I knew the words Ferrera would speak before she uttered them.  

I have spent most of my life as a teacher in girls’ schools, encouraging girls and young women to use their voices. I’ve reminded legions of girls that they have a right to be at every table and reminded them, too, that they have access to an exceptional eduction.  “Of those to whom much is given, much is expected,” my mother used to say.  Sometimes I say, “Carry as you climb; women need to lift up other women, not tear them down.”  Sometimes, the girls in my classes roll their eyes as I talk about the fact that we are not yet on a level playing field in terms of men and women being paid equally for having the same qualifications and doing the same work. Then, they return from college and say, “Ms. Klotz, you were right–people ARE sexist.” There is no joy in being right..

For many of the girls in the school I lead, the Barbie movie may seem like an innocuous parody of times long past—for me and for women my age and older, not so much. But part of why the movie may feel more entertaining than revolutionary is because of the work we do at Laurel every day.  Our students come of age in a school that encourages them to be their authentic selves, that encourages them to dream, dare, do, to explore possibilities, to reject anyone who tries to diminish them or judge them…what would have happened to Barbie if she had been a Laurel girl?

Driving home from the movie, my son and I discussed Ken’s story, too. Patriarchy is no good for anyone; Ken was about as undifferentiated a character as any character could be; his plaintive declaration, “I am Ken,” moved me, but not as much as the real woman’s speech about womanhood. Gloria says:

“It is literally impossible to be a woman. You are so beautiful, and so smart, and it kills me that you don't think you're good enough. Like, we have to always be extraordinary, but somehow we're always doing it wrong.

You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin…You have to be a career woman but also always be looking out for other people… 

But always stand out and always be grateful. But never forget that the system is rigged…You have to never get old, never be rude, never show off, never be selfish, never fall down, never fail, never show fear, never get out of line…”

I need to see the movie again. Soon. Maybe tonight.  It is a fable for our time, a call to action, a subversive and not so subtle but marvelous take on what it is to be female (and male) in our nation. Yes. I love when a billion dollar movie has a social conscience with Greta Gerwig as the director; I love the sheer number of people who are seeing this film. 

In a Facebook post I wrote the day after seeing the movie, I closed by wondering if this movie, this colossal hit, could change us, and a former student wrote to me, “Ms. Klotz, maybe it already has.”  I smiled. Maybe it has.