Rare News Desk
Having grown up in the 1990s, I am among the last generation that grew up with Mr. Rogers on our television screens every morning. Something about the methodical nature of the opening credits to Rogers’s own calm demeanor have stuck with me into my early adulthood.
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Mr. Rogers did not offer any sort of political or religious agenda but merely implored a life of goodwill. He allowed each individual to feel important in the brief time they had with him every day. This made an impression on me.
My two young nieces are 10 and 3. Like any Uncle, I have spent time with them and seen the programs they watch, and some of them are very informative. There is a wealth of positive children’s programming that Mr. Rogers made possible, but the man himself is still missing. The Millennial generation, and those before them, had the pleasure of knowing this tall man in a cardigan sweater.
I’ve spent a lot of time since then thinking about Mr. Rogers and how watching his show left a profound impact on me. In that time, I found an old Internet meme that I quickly posted to my Facebook.
After the post went up, an old friend from high school commented.
“This makes me think a lot about my life,” the woman, now a teacher, wrote.
And it should. Mr. Rogers not only tried to teach positive values among young people, but seemed to truly believe them himself. He wanted us to be better. Children of all ages were reminded of that every single episode.
During the Nixon administration, Mr. Rogers appeared before a Senate subcommittee to ask that his employer, the Public Broadcasting Service (PBS), receive the entirety of previously allocated funding. Rogers explained to then-Sen. John Pastore (D-R.I.) what he hoped to do on his program and why funding to make it happen was so necessary.
“I give an expression of care every day to each child, to help him realize that he is unique. I end the program by saying ‘You’ve made this day a special day by just you’re being you. There is no person in the world like you, and I like you just the way you are,'” Rogers said.
“I feel that if we in public television can only make it clear, that feelings are mentionable and manageable, we will have done a great service to mental health,” he said.
“I’m supposed to be a pretty tough guy, and this is the first time I have had goosebumps for the last two days,” Pastore told Rogers.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXEuEUQIP3Q
Almost 30 years later, Rogers would have a similar commanding presence over a normally powerful audience. While accepting a Lifetime Achievement Award at the 1997 Daytime Emmy Awards, Rogers bucked the usual acceptance speech for a more direct form of communicating his message one more time.
“All of us have special ones who have loved us into being. Would you just take, along with me, 10 seconds to think of the people who have helped you become who you are. Ten seconds of silence,” Rogers asked the crowd.
Esquire’s Tom Junod described what happened next.
“And then he lifted his wrist, looked at the audience, looked at his watch, and said, ‘I’ll watch the time.’ There was, at first, a small whoop from the crowd, a giddy, strangled hiccup of laughter, as people realized that he wasn’t kidding, that Mister Rogers was not some convenient eunuch, but rather a man, an authority figure who actually expected them to do what he asked. And so they did. One second, two seconds, three seconds — and now the jaws clenched, and the bosoms heaved, and the mascara ran, and the tears fell upon the beglittered gathering like rain leaking down a crystal chandelier. And Mister Rogers finally looked up from his watch and said softly ‘May God be with you,’ to all his vanquished children.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NQqKBqj5xhY
Who could do that today? Who could have that grasp over the current generation? Someone to make them stop and think and soak in all of their emotions.
I don’t have the answer, but I’m glad I had Mr. Rogers. If reading this post made you think about Mr. Rogers, then I’m sure you have had a much better day because of it.
