My Little Dive into the “Inclusive” Happy Meal Buzz
Heard some noise, you know, one of those articles, probably saw it linked from the NYT or somewhere respectable, about Happy Meals. They were supposedly getting all “inclusive.” Sounded good, right? Like they’re finally catching on. So, me being me, I thought, “Alright, let’s have a look. Let’s see what this ‘inclusion’ actually means when you’re standing there at the counter.”
So, I started my very unofficial investigation. Over a couple of weeks, I made it a point to swing by a few different McDonald’s. Not for the burgers, really. I was on a mission. A toy mission. A mission to find this famed inclusion.
What I Actually Found
Let me tell you, it wasn’t exactly a revelation. First stop, I asked about these new “inclusive” toys. Got a shoulder shrug and a “We just have these ones.” Standard movie tie-ins. Nothing new there. Felt like I was asking for a secret menu item that didn’t exist.
- Next try, different place: Same deal. Looked at the display, the little pictures. Just the usual stuff. Cars, dolls, plastic figures. Where was this big change? I started to wonder if I’d imagined the whole thing.
- Third time’s the charm? Not quite: Okay, saw a poster this time. Generic “everyone’s special” vibe. And yes, there was an option for a book. A book is fine, I guess. Better than another piece of plastic, maybe. But was that it? Was a book the grand inclusive gesture? The toys themselves still looked like the same old categories we’ve seen for decades.
Frankly, the whole thing felt like a bit of a letdown. You read these articles, NYT or wherever, and you imagine something substantial. What I saw was more like… window dressing. A tiny, tiny change blown up to sound like a revolution. It was the same old Happy Meal, mostly, just with a new buzzword attached.
And Here’s Why I Even Cared Enough to Look…
Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Dude, it’s just Happy Meal toys. Chill.” And yeah, normally, I wouldn’t give it a second thought. But this hit a bit close to home. My sister, she’s got a kid, my nephew, who’s got some challenges. He uses a special walker, and finding toys that show kids like him, or even just offer a broader range of what “normal” looks like, is a constant battle for her. It’s exhausting.
So when I saw that headline about “Happy Meal inclusion,” probably fed to me by some algorithm that knows I click on NYT links, I immediately thought of her. “Could this be it?” I wondered. “Something easy, accessible, that might actually have a toy a kid like my nephew could see himself in?” It seemed too good to be true, but hope, you know?
I even rang her up. “Seen this stuff about McDonald’s being inclusive now?” She just laughed, a tired kind of laugh. Said she’d seen a similar piece, got her hopes up for about five minutes, then went to check. Nada. Zilch. Just the same old plastic junk, maybe a slightly different marketing slogan. She called it “performative inclusion.” Sounded about right, based on what I saw. It’s like they learned a new word from a corporate seminar and decided to sprinkle it on their press releases.
It really took me back. Years ago, there was this big chain pharmacy that announced a new “accessible beauty” line. We all got excited. My cousin, who’s visually impaired, thought, “Finally! Products I can actually use without a chemistry degree to decipher the packaging!” We went to check it out. It was three existing products with slightly larger font on the back. That was it. The “accessible” part was basically a magnifying glass sold separately. Total sham. This Happy Meal thing felt just like that. A lot of noise, a nice story for the papers, but on the ground? Business as usual, just with a halo that doesn’t quite fit.
So, that’s my two cents on the Happy Meal inclusion saga, as seen through my own little trips and colored by a bit of family experience. Maybe some good intentions were there somewhere, buried under the marketing speak. But what reached the actual restaurants I visited? Not much to write home about, and certainly not what the headlines in places like the NYT might lead you to believe. Always gotta look past the shiny announcements, I guess.
