The Story

Different. It’s a word that carries both significant and trivial meaning. As adults, we understand that no two people on this planet are identical. Throughout all the centuries of human existence, we've seen near-duplicates, but there’s always been something unique about each individual. This uniqueness makes us all different. I know I’m not revealing earth-shattering wisdom, but it is curious: if the concept of being different is so easy to grasp, why do we feel the need to generalize, group, and categorize people based on physical attributes, or any attribute for that matter?

My name is Dionte’ Johnson, and I’m no author. I’m a husband and a father of four—twin girls and two boys—doing my best each day to provide my children with the best opportunities while shielding them from the harsh realities of the world. This story comes from a very real place and from a problem I didn’t know existed until recently.

In late fall 2018, while washing one of our daughters' hair, my wife noticed a patch of hair missing. As time passed, more patches appeared. That winter, on a family trip to Disney, the patches became noticeable to others. Embarrassed and unsure what to do, we tried to cover them up with various quick fixes, but nothing worked. We eventually discovered that our daughter had developed an autoimmune disease known as alopecia. This was a huge blow to us as parents, as our children had always been healthy. We prayed, read, asked questions, and sought help, but no matter the treatment, the alopecia progressed, taking more hair. Worse yet, our daughter noticed and, at just two years old, began questioning why she was different.

As parents, the worst thing to witness is your child's pain, and the helplessness that comes with it is a struggle I may never overcome. But we decided to reinforce in our daughter that her head, even without hair, is completely normal, and that true beauty comes from who you are, not what you look like. We chose not to complain and to be grateful that she wasn’t battling a more life-threatening condition. We bought books, dolls, movies, and stickers that represented different hair and bodies, and that’s when we realized the problem.

My twin daughters are very different from one another; one likes to play catch, the other likes to dress up and play with dolls. The daughter who loves Disney Princesses and superheroes the most is also the one losing her hair at an alarming rate. After months of searching, buying, and trying, we had a lightbulb moment: our daughter feels different because everything she sees portrays society's idea of the perfect girl or woman. There are no bald girls on toy shelves, and few toys with anything other than long, straight hair. No cartoons, movie characters, or comic heroes reflect her experience. This adds to the narrative that a full head of hair is a defining feature of being female.

I’ve always treated people based on how they treat me, but I had to ask myself: how am I contributing to this invisible narrative ingrained in society for centuries? I began to think about all underrepresented children worldwide, and my mission became clear: true representation means relentlessly pursuing the normalization of everyone in their skin. I thought about how alienated a child with a hearing aid must feel or how children with cancer must feel when asked why they have no hair. Though my story can’t capture every individual or situation, I hope it inspires people to think beyond traditional "norms" as we advance together. Now more than ever, we need to tell new stories and create new images without constraints. If not for ourselves, then for our children, who are different in every way imaginable.

With love,

Te’