Growing up, the names Molly, Felicity, Kirsten, Addy, Samantha, Josefina, Kit, and Kaya were my portals into history. Each American Girl doll had equal milestones -- a lesson, a birthday, a change -- but experienced different episodes depending on the era she grew up in. Kirsten had adventures outdoors in the prairie, Samantha practiced piano, Addy escaped from slavery. With these stories in mind, I set the American Girl persona as the foundation of Meet Allison, an American Girl to hold, observe, and measure the lives of women in various centuries from the perspective of one in the 21st.
My view of history is a union of fact and fiction. When I conjure images of past eras, they tend to be romantic: I see an endless prairie, or a quaint forest, and a small cabin abounding with good food, family, and time. I envision rooms filled with elaborate tapestries and candlelit societal parties – picture the reserved, yet comfortable, Victorian dwelling. These worlds of temperance and goodness, constructed in part by the American Girl doll series (and indeed, in large part from my own volition), haphazardly invite the realistic circumstances women faced in the past. Upon reading the stories again in adulthood, I have begun to question the reality and believability of the “America†I fabricated in childhood. On one hand, I am grateful for the rose-colored triumphs the fictional characters achieved after combating annoying boys and various wild animals, or searching for family members separated in slavery—at the age of 9, my interests were not fully committed to the education of natural disasters, disease, or social inequality. But on the other hand, I have become aware that my greatly romanticized version of history—the version I honor as factual—is considerably sentimental compared to the sifted and winnowed research standing behind the plots, scenes, clothing, and accessories of these books and dolls.
Now, with self-assigned roles imitating a small theatre company, I search for the meaning in the histories I have learned: as a dramaturg, I research primary texts and each doll’s six novellas; as a costume designer, I search for the closest match in material to make clothing; as a director, I find locations and prompt scenes; as an actress, I play; as a producer, I photograph; and as an audience member, I view this strangely historic world. Turning to the past, I ask, from where, and from what influences, did the dry presentation of fact merge with an illustrious fiction? Turning to the present, I ask, will the elementary differences between reality and fantasy become clear through the trickery of photography? Setting the American Girl persona as the foundation of Meet Allison, an American Girl allows me to hold, observe, and measure the lives of women in various centuries from the perspective of one in the 21st. Building from the stories using the transforming effects of costume, location, make-believe, and the photograph, I inspect my personal suppositions of history, and in the process, make portraits of our country’s coming of age. But, in the end, these acts—search, ask, observe, inspect—only reflect an impossible longing for an unreachable past. Regardless of the tireless effort to place fact before fiction, in these scenes photographed to appear accurate, I cannot help myself. I still exist in utopia.