In the summer of 2015, my three-year-old daughter Riley-Ann's request each day when she came home from nursery was the same: to have long, straight hair like her teachers, friends, and favourite cartoon characters. When this first happened, I stayed silent, thinking it was a phase that would soon pass. But she kept insisting on wearing a hat, and kept asking for different hair. I was surprised: I'd always made a conscious effort to tell her she is beautiful and surround her with a diverse range of books, dolls, family and friends.
I told Riley-Ann that her curly afro hair was beautiful - but this didn't work. One day, her request changed: she didn't ask for straight hair, but for white skin. She said she didn't want to be brown any more.
My heart sank, but I was careful not to react. I felt sad - angry, even - at what she was saying. I knew that just telling Riley-Ann to recognise her inner and outer beauty wouldn't work. I needed to show her that there were children out there that looked like her.
Step in, Annie. In the latest remake of the film the lead is played by the young black actress Quvenzhané Wallis. I thought to myself, if this doesn't work, I don't know what will.
I put the DVD on and walked into the kitchen, hoping this final attempt to get Riley-Ann to see the beauty of her natural hair and skin would work. Five minutes into the film - before the first song had even ended - she ran into the kitchen screaming "Mummy - take out my plaits." Grabbing me by the hand she pulled me into the living room and again asked me to remove her plaits. So I did. I took out every single one of those small plaits with beads on the ends that I had only just put in the day before.
Halfway through the film, I finished undoing her hair, and Riley-Ann immediately jumped up. "Mummy, look - Annie is beautiful... I am Annie and Annie is me. She LOOKS LIKE ME." For the first time, I truly understood the power of positive reflective imagery for children.
In her role as Annie, Quvenzhané Wallis had inspired Riley-Ann to embrace her natural hair and beautiful brown skin. To Riley-Ann, she was a superstar, the first young black girl with naturally curly afro hair that she'd seen on screen. My daughter saw herself in Annie, and felt empowered and inspired - so much so that the film was stuck on repeat for the rest of the weekend. I didn't mind, though, because my child fell back in love with the hair that grew out of her scalp and her dark brown melanin skin.
Riley-Ann had aspirations to be like Quvenzhané Wallis, and she was already modelling at this point. The agency treated her well, and offered her lots of jobs - but I quickly noticed that ad campaigns will often only feature one child of colour. Riley-Ann became the token black girl and I didn't feel comfortable with this. What about all the other little beautiful black girls? I wondered.
A lack of representation doesn't just affect children; it affects their parents too. When TV screens and billboards are populated almost entirely by white children with a token ethnic minority child, it can feel like we're not getting anywhere in our fight for diversity. I reached the point where I couldn't bear for my daughter to express any more negativity about herself, but I couldn't just sit back and complain - I had to do something. As a freelance producer, I have the skills to be a change-maker. So, I set up Looks Like Me talent and model agency. We aim to increase inclusivity, visibility and employability of Black and Minority Ethnic children in the creative sector and advertising, offering casting directors diversity when selecting artists or models from Black and Minority Ethnic backgrounds.
Redefining beauty with Looks Like Me, we can create an industry where black children are the norm, rather than token additions. Perhaps then, it won't take an 'Annie moment' for other little black girls to realise they're beautiful.