My daughter asked why her hair wasn't 'straight and pretty' like her classmates — I needed to show her examples of black female beauty

• Evana Oli's daughter Zoe was 6 when she asked why her hair wasn't pretty.
• Oli, who grew up in Nigeria, realized her daughter needed examples of Black beauty.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Evana Oli. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When my daughter Zoe was 6 years old, she came home and asked me why her hair wasn't straight and pretty like her classmates. Zoe is Black, but most of her classmates were white. We were living in Atlanta, a city with a thriving Black population, so I didn't realize how the lack of diversity at Zoe's school would impact her.

I decided to buy Zoe a Black doll. She loved the toy but kept pointing out that it didn't have hair like hers. I spoke with Zoe about her beautiful, curly hair and taught her affirmations to boost her self-confidence, but she was determined: she wanted a doll that looked like her. Not just her skin tone but also her hair.

As Zoe continued to pester me about the hair, I started thinking about my own locks. I grew up in Nigeria, in an all Black society, so I never felt the insecurity that Zoe had about my hair. But after working in corporate America, I'd taken to wearing weaves, straightened hair, and other styles that were more socially acceptable. Through my daughter, I realized I had been struggling with self-confidence too.

Zoe designed a doll with hair like hers, and we built a business

Zoe decided she wanted to make a doll that looked like her. And she didn't want it just for herself — she wanted to make a business. She's so tenacious, even at 6, so I knew I had to support her. I'm so glad I followed her lead and didn't limit her.

Plus, I had become convinced that this mission was important. Dolls are the standard of beauty for girls. We even say, "Oh, what a doll," when we compliment a child. Little Black girls need to see themselves reflected in their dolls.

We worked with a designer, and when Zoe was 7, we produced the first Beautiful Curly Me doll. When Zoe held her creation — the thing she'd craved and then helped bring into the world — I saw a spark in her. She was holding validation right in her hands. The doll not only showed her that her hair was beautiful but also proved that she could help solve problems. The toy showed me the same things.

Zoe is 11 and has embraced her hair, and I have too

These days everything is sold online, but I knew if we only did e-commerce, Zoe wouldn't really grasp the impact we were making. So, I signed up for trade shows. Zoe worked alongside me, and she got to see the joy in other little girls' faces when they saw dolls with hair just like theirs.

Today, Zoe is 11. She's getting ready to go into seventh grade, but during the summer, she's the CEO of Beautiful Curly Me. I'm lucky enough to have been hired by my child, and I handle the day-to-day operations.

We know that a doll isn't a magic solution that can instill confidence in little girls. But we understand that it's a great start. A doll is a tangible thing that little girls can hold onto and know that they are worthy. That's not just important to Black girls. We want all kids to see our dolls and the beauty they represent. We partner with foster care agencies and homeless shelters here in Atlanta to donate our dolls into the hands of more kids who need them.

These days, Zoe loves her hair. She's the queen of switching up different styles. Today she has twists, but she also loves wearing corn rows or an afro. I've started embracing my natural hair too.

Hair is one of those things we all have an interesting relationship with. Coming to peace with your hair can be a journey. It's so important to me that Zoe has embraced that part of herself and that she's now helping other little girls do the same.