Toys weRen't Us

One thing about entering early old age is the realization that your childhood was a very long time ago—well over half a century. Like most memories, it eventually fades into a series of moments, snapshots of times connected to salient emotions, usually happening in summer. I was a lucky kid, with many happy mental snapshots to muse over now. I grew up in the 50’s, in Hammond, Indiana, a satellite city of Chicago. My parents moved there when I was 5. They bought a small house with a front and back yard, and in an era of free-range parenting as the norm, I spent most of the summer outdoors. My sister, Joanie, was almost 6 years younger, so I remember hanging out mostly with other little girls my age who lived across the street from me.

When I heard that the History Colorado Center in Denver was holding a Toys of the 50s, 60s and 70s exhibit this year, I wasn’t sure it would be all that relevant. What I remember more than toys were activities. During my first 10 years of life, I jumped rope, rode my bike, roller skated, played hop scotch, splashed in an inflatable kids’ pool, spent hours searching for 4-leaf clover or watching grasshoppers on the fence, took our dog Ginger for walks, twirled my hula hoop, or poured sand in the sandbox. On hot summer days, my mom would turn the sprinkler on and Eileen and I would run through it. Here we are, with me trying to make a funny face that turned into a grimace, yet I was having just as much fun as my friend. When I was older I played badminton in Cheryl’s backyard across the street, regrettably the only sport I practiced.

I did have some toys, however. When I was very young, I had this baby doll. 

Other dolls came later, though I don’t remember being that obsessed with them, except during a paper-doll phase. For the most part, I enjoyed being a little tomboy.

Of course, you could say my hula hoop and jump rope were toys. Both of these icons are now in the National Toy Hall of Fame. In addition, I had Tinker Toys, jacks, pick-up sticks, marbles, and a yoyo, plus various games such as playing cards, Chinese checkers, Cootie, and Mr. Potatohead. So yes, I had reason to go to the History Colorado exhibit last month to see what childhood memories might be teased out. The exhibit is divided into decades. As I walked in, I re-entered the 50s and was entranced. For my readers who also grew up in the 50s, take a look at these images:

Cootie—still selling into the early 21st century(!)—is a roll and move tabletop game, where chance not skill rules. In 2003 it was added to the Toy Industry Association’s Century of Toys list—a list of the “100 most memorable and creative toys” of the 20th century.

Paper dolls were offered in McCall’s magazine each month, and many other cut-out books followed.

The hula hoop, a product of the late 50s, is definitely a crossover—from century to century, from child to adult. Wikipedia has a fascinating account of the postmodern revival of this toy with ancient roots. In this photo, I was more like the girl in the center, swiveling my hips inside just one hoop.

Special mention goes to this one: Mr. Potato Head. Special because it was the first toy marketed directly to children through TV ads; that was in 1952. Though the admen were rank amateurs compared to their counterparts today, it worked. Millions were sold (at 98 cents each) in the first year. I had one of the early versions, which required me to get a real potato from my mom. Later the kit came with a plastic body and parts conforming to toy safety regulations of the early 60s.

Were yesterday’s toys better or equal to the toys of today, produced in far more colors, with  far more sophisticated bells and whistles? It’s tempting to say yes. A friend who teaches pre-schoolers says classic toys were good for kids because they were simple; they only did one thing. We were required to manipulate them ourselves, using our imagination. That seems true enough, as the list of award-winners in the National Toy Hall of Fame confirm the value of many. Criteria for induction include icon status, longevity, discovery, and innovation.” Some of my favorites among the inductees: marbles, Monopoly, the Duncan yoyo, Tinker Toys, Etch a Sketch, jump rope, Mr. Potato Head, the jigsaw puzzle, Checkers, the cardboard box, and playing cards.

However, looking back, we can see that the 50s were not toy paradise—at least not for everyone. As the History Colorado exhibit points out, there was no concept of “culturally sensitive” toys. Cowboy and Indian games were prevalent—with all of the stereotypes reflected in the Westerns shown on TV. (I confess I loved many of those shows, especially the singing cowboy, Gene Autry, as well as Roy Rogers and Dale Evans.) 

I like to think my stereotypes of Native Americans were at least positive ones. After a Wisconsin family vacation when I was 10, I became fascinated with moccasins, deerskin dresses, and the long black hair on an Indian doll my parents bought me. 

Only one black-skinned doll was marketed during this era. In 1949 Florida businesswoman Sara Lee Creech wanted to make a doll that promoted positive images of African-Americans among children of all races. She had watched a group of black kids playing with white dolls and thought they should have other choices. Her efforts drew praise from many, including author Zora Neale Hurston and former First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt.  Unfortunately, the doll did not sell well and there was also a problem with the materials used. But for a time (until 1953), parents could order one from the Sears catalog for $6.95. In those days, no one talked about gender stereotyping either. Fortunately, my doll stage pre-dated hyper-feminine Barbie, and my literary heroine—the intrepid sleuth Nancy Drew—never dressed as a princess. 

Today parents have thousands of choices in Toys R Us or other retail shops—with higher price tags, of course—but also with far more sophisticated materials and technology. Not to mention electronics. (Anyone remember the first electronic toy? Yes, “Simon” in 1978!) Are kids today engaged in more complex ways than we were? Do they have more fun? Do they feel more frustrated because their parents  can’t afford the toys they see advertised? Do they tend to be more or less active? Are they totally spoiled because there are fewer kids and more doting relatives? Do they see accurate representations of gender or ethnicity in the toys they receive? I’d love to hear your opinions, no matter how partial.

I make no judgment about the toys of the 21st century, as I haven’t shopped for toys in a long while. Such a profusion of choices would probably make me dizzy if I entered a store. For assessments of value, we might just have to wait for the test of time—the Toy of Fame inductees of the future.

If you’re in or near Denver, try to catch the Toys of the 50s, 60s and 70s exhibit before it closes October 4.