Alberta and the Barbie Revolution

This is a story that encapsulates many stories. This is a story of friendship, of hardship, of disability and “being normal”, of welcoming schools, of attentive and resilient mothers, of women with endless imagination, and of insightful problem solvers.

“Alberta is very aware of her surroundings; she is empathetic towards others and is definitely more polite and sensitive than others.” Alberta Maria Arcorace is 8 years old, living in Reggio Calabria (where she was born) with her mom, dad and little brother Ermanno, and she is a very affectionate, very outgoing, very active child. Last year, in first grade, “she went through a troubling experience; unfortunately, not all her peers are used to such warm attitudes, and so Alby was the object of exclusion and mockery, and she was also bullied by some girls in the class who, by the way, she had known for a long time,” Pamela, her mother, tells me.

“I was telling Serena, one of my closest friends since high school, about my daughter’s rough time, and while I was at Toys I noticed a Barbie doll in a wheelchair. Maybe she had always been there, but I only noticed her that day, so I sent the picture to Serena. She immediately replied, “Take it, I’ll give it to Alby, I think it can help raise her spirits!”  Initially I wasn’t very convinced, but Serena insisted and I trusted her judgement.”

Let’s take a step back: it was March 9th, 1959 and Barbie made her first appearance at the New York Toy Fair, with an adult figure and a face inspired by stars such as Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor. She hit the shelves with a striped costume, blond bangs and hair pulled back in a ponytail: she was an unstoppable success. The inventor’s name was Ruth Marianna Handler and the wife of the founder of Mattel. She got inspired by watching her daughter Barbara play with baby dolls (hence the name Barbie). Realizing her innovative idea, Ruth brought up the idea of a new line of adult dolls to her skeptical husband (later came Ken Carson, who first appeared in March 1961, named after the Handlers’ other son).

From 1959 to the present, Barbie has pursued 150 different careers (including astronaut, pilot, firefighter and paleontologist), has portrayed global icons (embodying iconic figures from Cleopatra to Gabby Douglas, the first African-American gymnast to win gold at the Olympics), she has fought back against groups that accuse her of such things as racism or propagating a harmful beauty standard. More recently, Barbie has “finally” adorned prosthetics, been shown with vitiligo, shown as bald to promote cancer awareness, as well as being depicted as shorter or “rounder” (not big, just normal).

Amidst all these innovations, finally harmonizing beauty and disability (a combination considered by many to be unattainable), wheelchair-bound Barbie was created in 1997. However, not even a month after her launch, it became apparent Mattel had made a huge oversight as the young lady’s wheelchair could not fit into the famous multi-story Barbie Dreamhouse. These architectural barriers are said to have caused its sales to plummet. The fact is even after they adjusted, the wheelchair-bound Barbie still remained in the background, forgotten. For example, she was missing from the traveling Barbie exhibition: The Icon, curated by Massimiliano Capella, which passed through major Italian cities. She was almost all but forgotten until Alberta gave her new life.

“[Wheelchair Barbie] has become her favorite! Complete with wheelchair, Alby takes her everywhere. She like to say things like, ‘we went to the summer center together.’ When I asked her what the other children thought about it, she looked at me surprised, “What were they supposed to tell me? They liked it!” my daughter’s expression basically said, “What’s so surprising?” It is simply one of her Barbies, she plays with it and sees it as one among others, with its own characteristics.”

Accustomed from an early age through attending Unitalsi events (an organization focused on supporting elderly people with disability), and seeing disabled individuals throughout her life, Alberta “doesn’t see disability, doesn’t notice it. She doesn’t register it. In front of the Disney princesses on the back cover of Ombre e Luci she exclaimed, “I’m like Uncle Piero!” (a friend of ours from Unitalsi). She was very curious as I told her the stories of Giusy Versace, Atzori, and Bebe Vio.”

Can a toy strengthen a child in a time of trouble?

Yes. Can the world’s best-selling doll, selling at three dolls per second according to Mattel, become a parable about how we relate to disability? Yes. “Paradoxically,” Pamela points out, “The supposedly handicapped Barbie is actually completely bendable! She moves much better than the others.”

In Alberta’s newfound peace, an important plan was put into action by the school. “At the time of the bullying, I spoke to the teachers about the discomfort my daughter was feeling; she no longer wanted to go to school, she no longer wanted to go to tennis, and she no longer wanted to attend the activities she loved but shared with the bully girls. The afternoon school educator was the only one who listened to me (the other moms, for example, downplayed it, dismissing the facts as “little girl stuff”). She had also noticed that something was wrong, and proposed an awareness game as an activity. And the game worked because the bullies went to Alberta and apologized to her, “We realized we misbehaved, we didn’t want to hurt you.” Afterwards I asked Alberta “And what did you do?” “Nothing, mom, they are my friends, I can’t not forgive them!” Of course, not everything is solved, but today things are definitely better.”

After all that happened, a wheelchair came under the tree this year for my son as well. In fact, Santa Claus brought him a Lego skateboarding rink stocked with everything he needs for jaw-dropping events. Among the minifigures is an athlete in a wheelchair. Because this Santa goes by a different name and has a different title: an acquired aunt who buys with the heart, foresight and lots of consideration. It’s Serena, always her.

My son makes his wheelchair-bound skateboarder perform incredible jumps, while the wheelchair-bound Barbie (on the shelves, Pamela points out, you can also find Ken sitting) is inseparable from Alberta. These are toys that tell of a diversity that can have a value because behind them are children who have understood, with a naturalness that gives us hope, the absolute normalcy of diversity. Thanks to her mom, her mom’s friend and Toys (who placed the order), Alberta helped us make this revelation.