Old reruns of Mr Rogers to be cancelled in….3…..2….1….
Billy Joel's in trouble, too: I Love You Just The Way You Are
This is B.S. Rogers was the quintessential “inclusion” liberal of his time. He would have simply “evolved” with the leftist agenda and taken children to drag Queen story hour were he alive at active today.
Prove me wrong.
Fred Rogers was a good man, he tried to raise our Children (me included) right.
Wholesome truths are so out of fashion today. I expect the trans crowd will be hooting and hollering and demanding that the old reruns of Rogers be thrown on a pile of burning wood.
BUMP
Does anyone know why everybody is tweeting “Can you see this tweet?”
I was raised by a tough Irishwoman and an emotionally detached dad who did not involve himself with “the children” until we were grown. My sibs and I were to do as we were told and discharge the routines and expections of our elders joylessly. And sad to say, my marriage in those years was much the same. But I experienced motherhood as an overwhelming joy and opportunity to grow past that rocky start.
I rolled my eyes, however, when I first started watching Mr. Rogers with my own offspring. He seemed sappy, and possibly creepy. But his calm and sweetly simple presentations began to reach a neglected and well-guarded part of me that rarely dared show itself at home growing up — an often timid “inner child.”
I began looking forward to sitting with my kid to watch Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, singing along with his songs. I began to realize how important these quietly light-hearted teaching moments are (even the ones about serious topics) for almost every type of child; and that he was healing me, a little issue here, a little fear there.
As my family ventured forward, Mr. Rogers’ ditties were soon replaced by Green Day, REM and Alanis Morrissette, sports, music lessons, homework and scouting. But Fred Rogers’ insights continued to influence me as I completed my graduate work that examined the social and political upheavals that have been affecting the American family since the 60s.
One night, after my family were grown, off and away, I dreamed of Mr. Rogers, whom I hadn’t watched or heard much about for years. In my dream, I visited him in his modest house and told him how much I had appreciated his kindness, and how he had made me feel accepted and encouraged, and had helped me be a better mom. We played a game of Nerf table tennis, and then he said Mrs. Rogers was preparing dinner so it would be time for me to leave.
As I made my way down his front walk in my dream, I turned to wave to him, smiling and calling out, “Goodbye! Thank you! Goodbye!” as he smiled and waved back, standing in the doorway, sending me off.
The next morning I heard on the radio that he had died, without even having known he was sick. He had concealed his cancer diagnosis from the public, so that children would not be upset. I was stunned, almost as if I had lost a family member; but was equally astonished and grateful that my dream spirit met with his in the air.
In today’s media atmosphere of obscene overproduction, graphic enhancement and heavily amplified TV and movie fare, Mr. Rogers’ dinky puppets, electric train, and sweaters knit by his mom would be laughed out of every network. But the “homemade” simplicity of those scenes modeled the kinds of things parents could do to connect with their children. Even then, with the left wing crashing about to destroy everything sacred, pure and good, it was a more innocent time.
I’ve always been a conservative. I don’t recall a moment when Fred Rogers let his personal pacifist viewpoints mark the territory of his children’s show. Liberals then did not hate our country; and he was married to one woman for 51 years. I would later learn that he was not only a broadcast professonal who had done grad work in child development, but also an ordained minister. It seems unlikely to me that, had he lived longer, he would go on to endorse transgenderism or even gay marriage, as a post above speculated. The very lyrics of “Everybody’s Fancy” stand for themselves.
What did come across to me so profoundly is that he cared about, nurtured and offered training wheels as needed for the tender spirits of young children, even those whose inner feelings never got around to being affirmed until they had a family of their own.