Ode to Target

Evidence of the fall. Piggies left stranded on their
backs with their money-shielding stoppers plucked from
their bellies.

Oh Target. What do I say? You (and your inclusive marketing) have single-handedly served up my once innocent and unwanting kids a huge dose of the consumerism bug.

I've got to hand it to you. You, unlike much of the rest of the media my kids are exposed to on a daily basis, got it. You knew to include kids that looked like them in your glossy, colorful advertisement. The one styled to look like an inviting and interesting magazine. The one that arrived conveniently in our mailbox for the kids to discover after school on Friday afternoon.

Kids that look just like them! Kids in the age range of six to seven years old with beautiful brown skin and heads full of big kinky curls. Not just one brown skinned child either - kids are smarter than that - you knew to represent kids with brown skin like them equally to their blonde-haired counterparts. Both boys and girls too (oh you really are a master at your craft).

Why? Why do you get it when TV shows and text books don't? Oh, I know. You know how important it is; its powerful stuff. After all, there's money on the line. You know they'll notice. And you want them to notice because if they notice they'll feel represented and if they feel represented they'll want to have all the same shiny new toys the kids are playing with in your magazine. You know that if they see themselves in your ads they'll want to be the selves they see in those ads.

You did it. You initiated my kids into that oh-so-American club that their dad and I had been sheltering them from for over a year. They've tasted the fruit. They've handed over their first fistfulls of wrinkled, green bills to the nice young man in the bright red shirt. They've waited (not so) patiently for him to hand over the crinkly white bag with your logo all over it. They've walked proudly through your automatic doors back out into the world as consumers. And they want more!