When I make a doll that doesn’t have a home immediately, I always name them. No one likes to wait nameless and homeless. This doll’s name is Satya. For nearly a year, Satya lived in a box in my apartment. After that she moved to a teeny-tiny toy store in this teeny-tiny town, where she waited patiently for about one more year. My daughter felt so sorry for her just waiting and waiting in the toy store that she wanted to take Satya home. My daughter already owns three big dolls. She said that having three dolls is a lot of work because they all need attention. She also said she didn't really want another doll, she just wanted Satya to have a home.
I don’t make many dolls that aren’t going right to people, mostly because they don’t sell right away. I’m sure it would be easier for them to sell right away if I made them the sort that sells right away— fancy art yarn hair or blonde hair and fair skin— but that wasn’t really my point in making Satya. I was silently making under-represented dolls for under-represented people. The sad fact about underrepresented people is that they generally don’t have as much money as over-represented people. So Satya sat. When I made her, I was thinking of native American peoples, which means basically anywhere in all of the Americas. I also thought that she looked kind-of Indian or Tibetan or like many Chinese people do (the ones less likely to be in fashion magazines). I also thought she looked Egyptian or maybe middle-eastern— tho my own mideast ancestors had incredibly curly hair. Despite (or because of) what I thought was a rather broad neutrality, she never did sell.
Satya could have looked pretty much like anyone and still be who she is, but this is how she looks. Her name is Satya because the truth about our own self remains the same no matter what we cover it with, no matter how we look, no matter how we try to disguise who we are. We can change as a mountain changes— we can be worn down or built up slowly over time— or quickly— but our essence—our foot— our root— our history— cannot be changed. Who am I? Who am I now? Who am I? Who am I now? Satya has a wise little knowing smile, but never did part her lips to tell me who she is.
Now in her new home with her new little girl, I am certain she has tales to tell!
I don’t make many dolls that aren’t going right to people, mostly because they don’t sell right away. I’m sure it would be easier for them to sell right away if I made them the sort that sells right away— fancy art yarn hair or blonde hair and fair skin— but that wasn’t really my point in making Satya. I was silently making under-represented dolls for under-represented people. The sad fact about underrepresented people is that they generally don’t have as much money as over-represented people. So Satya sat. When I made her, I was thinking of native American peoples, which means basically anywhere in all of the Americas. I also thought that she looked kind-of Indian or Tibetan or like many Chinese people do (the ones less likely to be in fashion magazines). I also thought she looked Egyptian or maybe middle-eastern— tho my own mideast ancestors had incredibly curly hair. Despite (or because of) what I thought was a rather broad neutrality, she never did sell.
Satya could have looked pretty much like anyone and still be who she is, but this is how she looks. Her name is Satya because the truth about our own self remains the same no matter what we cover it with, no matter how we look, no matter how we try to disguise who we are. We can change as a mountain changes— we can be worn down or built up slowly over time— or quickly— but our essence—our foot— our root— our history— cannot be changed. Who am I? Who am I now? Who am I? Who am I now? Satya has a wise little knowing smile, but never did part her lips to tell me who she is.
Now in her new home with her new little girl, I am certain she has tales to tell!
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