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Remembering
Mr. Rogers |
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As is often the case in the Worship Committee, when you have an idea, you just might find yourself up here. I don’t mind, though, because I am such a fan of Mr. Rogers and believe that his primary messages of love and respect are important ones for us all to hear. In fairness, I need to say that not everyone liked Mr. Rogers—at least not at first. In an article entitled "Born Again in Rogers", author Bob Garfield starts by writing: "Hi, my name is Bob, and Mr. Rogers makes my flesh crawl." He continues: "Over the course of twenty-five years, I'd come to detest Fred Rogers, along with everything and everyone around him. Twenty-five years of insufferably Pollyanna years of smiling, sharing, and reassuring." And that's not the end of his complaints. In June of 2000, the students at Old Dominion University protested when Mr. Rogers was asked to speak at graduation, as did some students at Dartmouth College in 2002. Even one member of the Worship Committee initially thought Rogers was an unsuitable subject for a Sunday sermon. Furthermore, Johnny Carson and Eddie Murphy actually made fun of Mr. Rogers—Eddie Murphy's take off "Mr. Robinson's Neighborhood" was hilarious. However, these detractors were eventually won over. After watching a gross, but "with-it" cartoon show with his two daughters, Bob Garfield was appalled by how his daughters behaved in response to this program. He repented his earlier view of Mr. Rogers and declared him to be "a saint" and a "thoroughly responsible adult." The students at Old Dominion ended up singing "It's a beautiful day in the Neighborhood” with him—at their request, not his, and Eddie Murphy threw his arms around him and declared him "The real Mr. Rogers." Even the doubting worship committee member came around. I'm sure everyone has heard of Mr. Rogers, but there are probably some of you who have never watched the show. The format was simple and remained basically the same throughout its history. Mr. Rogers enters his house and changes into his trademark zip-up cardigan sweater and sneakers. The theme of the show is introduced in this segment and, in addition to Mr. Rogers, includes a cast of regular characters and guests. The second segment of the show takes place in the Neighborhood of Make Believe, a land inhabited by puppets and some real people. This is my favorite part. Whereas Mr. Rogers is unfailingly patient, kind, and in control, the puppets exhibit the full range of human frailties. But more on the puppets later. The general theme of the show is expanded in the Neighborhood of Make Believe. Then the show returns to Mr. Rogers in the real Neighborhood for a wrap-up. So, what can we adults learn from Mr. Rogers and this seemingly simple children's program? Five lessons emerge from his life and the show with which he was so closely associated. Lesson Number One: Honor the Past But Embrace the Future. It sounds like the theme of a First Church Capital Campaign, doesn't it? I know we honor the past here at First Church. Why else would we tend to this historic building so lovingly? Our institutional memory , traditions, and cherished church history , to some extent, define who we are. I'm not sure we give equal respect to our individual religious roots—for most of us, that would be Christianity. In giving up some tenets of that religion, I wonder if we give Christianity credit for the gospel of love that is at the heart of that religious movement. In any case, Mr. Rogers was very much in touch with his roots. His program is filled with references to his own family and childhood. For example, the zip up cardigan sweaters he wore were gifts from his mother who knitted a sweater a month and gave them as Christmas gifts to family and friends. One of those famous sweaters now hangs in the Smithsonian. The puppet Lady Elaine Fairchilde was named after his sister who was adopted into the family when Fred was 11 years old, and Mr. McFeely, the Speedy Delivery Man, was named for his maternal grandfather, Fred McFeely. Grandfather McFeely had a profound influence on Fred McFeely Rogers. He told the young Fred, "You make this day special just by being yourself. Remember there's just one person in this world like you, and I like you just the way you are." This is the pervasive message that Mr. Rogers tells his preschool audience and their parents: The same thing every show—“You are special—I like you just the way you are.” In spite of his fondness for the past, Mr. Rogers was quite innovative in his adoption of new ideas. He got into the new medium of TV in the early 50's. Over the years he tackled increasingly complex issues including divorce, pollution, and war. Mr. Rogers once said he got into television because he hated it so. Indeed, it was a chance viewing of an early TV show for children that propelled him into a television career. He saw a show in which pies were being thrown in the faces of people and was struck by two things: The power of this new medium and the great disrespect of the message. Does this sound prophetic? TV has gained ascendancy as the primary purveyor of culture, news, and entertainment. Yet never have our sights been set so low. So-called reality TV seems particularly devoid of values and lacking in respect. Or maybe talk shows are the worst—it's a hard call. However, Mr. Rogers did not turn his back on TV. He embraced it. "We can do better," he thought and, for his entire career he sought to bring the best message possible to young children, and really to all of us—"You are a respected and valued human being." "We all have only one life to live on Earth," Mr. Rogers noted, "and through television we have the choice of encouraging others to demean this life or to cherish it." Mr. Rogers did not stop with TV. After 33 years on television, he turned his attention to the Web. At the time of his death, he was in discussions about creating bedtime stories on the Web, which he would read nightly. “We’ve heard that this slow voice of mine can put people to sleep, so why not use it that way?” he commented. The point is that Mr. Rogers never forgot his mission, to teach children to “cherish life,” but he was always willing to explore new ways of doing that. * * * * Lesson Number Two: Share Your Passion Fred Rogers had two passions (other than children, who were, of course, the focus of his entire adult life): music and puppetry, and he shared them both with his young audience. He was interested in both from an early age, and eventually majored in music composition. He wrote the music and lyrics to all the songs he sang on the show, more than 1,000. Equally important, or perhaps more so, were the musicians he brought onto the program as guests or as staff. Just as he sought to bring the best possible message to viewers, Mr. Rogers brought the best music to the Neighborhood. Along with Mr. Rogers himself, music was the most important aspect of the show. His music director was Johnny Costa, sometimes called the Mozart of jazz piano. It was through watching Mr. Rogers that our son Peter had his first exposure to jazz. Who knows? Maybe Mr. Rogers was partly responsible for Peter's passion for this form of music. Puppetry, Mr. Rogers' other passion, also had roots in his childhood. He was sick with scarlet fever and allergies, and as an only child until age 11, he spent a lot of time playing with puppets. There are four puppets that have been on the show since its beginning—in fact, they predate the Neighborhood, going back to the Children's Program in which Mr. Rogers was the unseen puppeteer who interacted with the hostess, Josie Carey. By the way, he worked without a script on that show. These four puppets have distinct personalities as a result of countless interactions over more than 30 years. Three of the original puppets came from Mr. Rogers' home: King Friday XIII, a witch who became Lady Elaine Fairchilde, and X the Owl. An additional puppet, Daniel Striped Tiger, was given to Fred the night before Children's Corner debuted. Collectively, the puppets represent the conflicting feelings all children, and, in truth, all adults, have in varying degrees. For example, Lady Elaine, my favorite, is curious, bossy, and loves to push the limits. In one episode, Lady Aberlin appears with a sealed letter for Corny (Cornelius S. Pecially—never mind if you don't know the characters, it's the sealed letter that's important). Lady Elaine is dying to know what's in the letter. "Why don't you open it?" she asks Lady Aberlin. "It's not mine," Lady Aberlin replies. Lady Elaine doesn't give up easily—“Just one look.” "It's not ours," Lady Aberlin restates. When Corny, the owner of the letter, appears, Lady Elaine persists, "Everybody wants to know—how about a hint?" But Corny is not ready to share, and (this is important) Lady Elaine does not get what she wants. It's OK to be curious, but, in the end, respect for privacy prevails. Finally, there's King Friday, the self -absorbed monarch. He simply cannot grasp that everybody might not think and feel as he does. He once approached Lady Aberlin and Prince Tuesday who have been playing with paper cups and pretending they are puppets. "You could put them end to end and pretend they are jets," King Friday suggests. "I don't want to," replies Prince Tuesday. "Of course you do. Everybody wants to think about jets. I certainly do." We probably all know somebody like King Friday—someone who knows better than anyone else the "right" way to do things. As a denomination, we may even "be" a little like that. At our best we're competent and caring, but sometimes we think we're smarter, more "right" than other people. Of course, we must work for what is right and just as we see it, but never with arrogance and always with an ear for opposing views which might inform our opinions. * * * * Lesson Three: Live Your Values It is not really possible to talk about Mr. Rogers without examining the impact that Christianity had on him. You may know that he was an ordained Presbyterian minister. You may not know that he was already involved in television when he attended seminary classes during his lunch hour. His ordination was unusual in that his special charge was to minister to children and their families through the medium of television. However, Mr. Rogers was never doctrinaire. He distilled the Christian message to one of love, acceptance, and affirmation—which tend to be values of many religions, including our own. Nevertheless, Mr. Rogers clearly drew strength from his Christian beliefs. He prayed before each show and noted, "I've seen it happen so often—what I present in faith somehow nourishes the viewer." I am so impressed with how completely Mr. Rogers lived a life based on his values of love and acceptance. Without exception, every author who wrote about him noted that he is in private, just as he is in public, and Mr. Rogers is an inspiration to me. As Unitarians, we have great values. We believe in justice and respect for all persons. What his life says to me is that I can incorporate those values into all facets of my life—from the simplest interactions with a clerk at the grocery store to the most complex decisions of government. * * * * Lesson Four: Respect Yourself and Respect Others There is no missing the essential message of Mr. Rogers: "You are a unique, special individual. I know you've made my day special by being here.” And he didn't mean "special" in that sarcastic way my husband and I use it—to refer to "special people" who have a false sense of entitlement—those who think rules don't apply to them. No, he truly means that everyone is special, and that the uniqueness of each person should be honored and respected. First of all, respect yourself—respect yourself enough to value who you are. I thought of Mr. Rogers recently when I read Pat Conroy's book, The Losing Season. Conroy is best known for his books The Lords of Discipline and The Great Santini. His father was abusive, physically and emotionally, throughout his childhood. He then endured an equally abusive plebe system at the Citadel, a military college where he also played basketball. All of Conroy's writing to some extent tries to work through his relationship with his abusive father. One conversation with a supportive English professor at the Citadel went as follows: Colonel Doyle says to Conroy: "This is your last season as a basketball player, isn't it?" Conroy replies: "Yes, sir, I stink at that, too." And Colonel Doyle responds to him: "You say that about yourself as a writer. You say that about yourself as a basketball player. Mr. Conroy, may I give you some advice. You are too young to know this, but your life is precious and your time is short. You are blind to yourself, Mr. Conroy. You're too hard on yourself. For reasons I don't understand, you are deeply unhappy and it pains me. Know this. I think you could be special if you only thought there was anything special about yourself. Someone has taught you to hate yourself. I hope I haven't crossed some line. I value our friendship very much." How very, very sad. I wish someone had told Pat Conroy he was special before he reached college age. I hope we can let the children we have contact with know how special they are—how much we like them and value who they are. Respect yourself enough to take care of yourself. Mr. Rogers did. He got up at 5:00 a.m. daily for quiet time, 7 days a week. At 7:30 he went to a nearby public pool to swim laps. Before jumping into the pool, he sang a round of "Jubilate Deo" but, he said, "Not very loud." Now, of course, we don't all need to have that level of discipline in our lives, but I can't help but think that most of us would profit from more time for reflection and exercise. It is important to note that respecting yourself in Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood doesn't mean being self-absorbed or self-centered. It is no accident that the program takes place in a neighborhood—we are all connected and what one person does affects another. Therefore, just as we should respect our own feelings and needs, we must also consider the feelings and needs of others. Mr. Rogers often talked to the children about how they are growing on the outside and on the inside, and that part of growing on the inside is to help others. He stressed that the "inside" growing continues our whole lives. In Mr. Rogers' own words: "Deep down we know that what matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves. What really matters is helping others win, too." Isn't that the reason we come here, Sunday after Sunday?—to continue that inner growth that allows us to be of greater service. Mr. Rogers models respectful behavior to each of the neighbors who come to share a talent with the children, whether it's Yo-Yo Ma, the Incredible Hulk, or Andy Holiner, and he models respect for the environment as well. In one episode I recently watched, he went snorkeling with a marine biologist. He was openly in awe of her knowledge and skill, in addition to his admiration of the fish and other marine life. "She's my hero," said Rogers, "Someone who is helping make the world better." But first, there was a very long section, especially by television standards, that showed the fish, no talking, just the fish and the background music of Johnny Costa. It is really remarkable that he trusted the children enough to allow them that uninterrupted time to observe this beautiful environment. Children do, often, have quite long attention spans. However, as a teacher, I have seen over the years that students increasingly expect to be entertained. Our biggest challenge may be to ensure that students have time to reflect and think deeply about complicated matters. That's one of the reasons I like the pace of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. He gives the children time to process what they've seen. The leisurely pace is one of the really unique aspects of his show. He speaks, then allows an uncomfortable, at least to adults, pause. This pause gives a child time to mentally respond. In education, we call it "wait time". Now I'm not suggesting that we slow down to a Mr. Rogers pace, although I'm personally quite comfortable with that, but I do find that people, including adults, are often excluded from conversations or discussions because we, and I include myself, jump in with a response almost before the speaker is finished. In real life Mr. Rogers was known to be an incredible listener. He gave the person speaking his full attention—he didn't just wait until it was his turn to talk. Davy Rothbart, a contributor to PBS's "This American Life," interviewed Rogers for a story he was writing on neighbors fighting. He described Rogers as "an utterly engaged listener, who was more interested in the details of his (the interviewer's) life than in talking about his own.” Rothbart' s neighborhood was experiencing tension due to gentrification, and Rothbart commented that the people in the neighborhood seemed afraid to talk to each other and asked Rogers why that would be the case. Mr. Rogers sat quietly for a full 15 seconds—which is amazing in itself. Maybe Quakers could do that: I’m not sure about Unitarians. This was his response: "Perhaps we think that we won't find another human being inside that person. Perhaps we think that there are some people in this world who I can't ever communicate with and so I'll just give up before I try. And how sad it is to think that we would give up on any other creature who's just like us." * * * * Lesson Five: Be grateful. Mr. Rogers may be the most grateful person I've ever met (at least I feel like I've met him). You only have to watch an episode or two of his program to see how genuinely "gifted" he feels when he visits the conservatory or listens to Wynton Marsalis. I'm reminded of a children's book by Bird Baylor called I’m in Charge of Celebrations. A young Native American girl living in the Southwest is asked if she is ever lonely, and she laughs. How can she be? She has all these private celebrations: Dust Devil Day, Triple Rainbow Day, and The Time of the Falling Stars. She has 108 celebrations besides the ones they close school for. Mr. Rogers would have liked this book. I love it because it reminds me to be grateful for things I either take for granted or have almost forgotten: the blue heron taking off in graceful flight from the creek bed, the retractable eyes on the lowly slug, and the moment many years ago when I watched a baby cardinal peck its way out of the egg. Mr. Rogers was profoundly grateful for the people who surrounded him. I don't think I can improve on these words from his Dartmouth College Commencement Address. "Who are those people who have helped you become the person you are? Anyone who graduates from college, anyone who has ever been able to sustain a good work, has had at least one person and often many who have believed in him or her. We don't get to be competent individuals without a lot of investment from others." On her birthday, a younger friend of mine makes a list of all the people who have influenced her in a positive way. She challenges herself to list at least one person for each year of her life. She started the practice in college and has continued for the past 8 or so years. I don't think she's had any trouble filling up her list. And, I hope, she is comforted by the knowledge that so many people care about her. I'd like to close by giving you a gift—the same gift that Mr. Rogers gave the Dartmouth graduates. In his words, "I'd like to give you all an invisible gift, a gift of a silent minute to think about those who have helped you become who you are today. Some of them may be here right now. Some of them far away. But wherever they are, if they've loved you and encouraged you and wanted what was best in life for you, they're right inside yourself. And I feel you deserve a quiet time…to devote some thought to them. So let's take a minute in honor of those who have cared about us along the way. One Silent Minute.” Whoever you have been thinking about, imagine how grateful they must be or would have been that during your silent time, you remembered how important they are to you. I invite you to come forward at this time to light a candle in honor of that person. I’ll light the first candle in honor of my father, also named Fred Rogers. He to was a “good man” in the Neighborhood.
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