![]() Fred believed what a seminary theology professor taught him in the 1950s: When we believe we are good and lovable, we will look on our neighbor as good and lovable, too, and we will treat them as if they are. And this may have been because he didn’t think you could cultivate kindness by telling people to be kind. I’ll tell you again tomorrow.įred didn’t talk much about kindness, even though he was modeling it constantly. And he kept on looking directly into the camera and insisting on it: You-no, really, you-are lovable. He kept on finding another way to say it. What the Neighborhood really needs-what the world really needs-is one more song about how each person is lovable. Those songs were his original creations over years, and it delights me to imagine him thinking, You know? I think I’ll write a song today. “You are my friend you are special” and “It’s you I like,” and “ I like you as you are.” Instead, he said, “I like you just the way you are,” or “There’s only one person in the world like you,” or “You’ve made this day a special day for me by just your being you.” And he sang it, too. He didn’t usually say it quite like that. Most of all, more than kindness (which he rarely talked about), more than self-expression and feelings (which he talked about all the time), he told us one thing again and again: You are lovable. Join us to learn research-based strategies for dialogue and understanding May I suggest that you find ways to express your feelings? May I remind you, once more, that those expressions don’t have to hurt you or anyone else? You might consider sharing who you are through the arts. The “shoulds” that did subtly emerge were more like suggestions. There wasn’t much “should” at all in the Neighborhood. Here’s the thing: Mister Rogers almost never taught us that we should be kind. And I think getting those answers right matters, not just for the sake of faithfully remembering Fred, but for the sake of coming to know ourselves a little better-a kind of growing that would have pleased Mister Rogers. It’s just that I’m not sure “kindness” provides the answer to the question “Why Fred?” or “Why now?” any more than nostalgia does. It’s not that I think Our Patron Saint of Kindness wasn’t kind. I spent World Kindness Day low-key annoyed. The same day, the New York Times published a long-form profile of Tom Hanks that focused on how “nice” he is, as if to assure us in advance that he’s worthy of that sweater, those sneakers. A Pittsburgh nurse crocheted tiny cardigans for the newborns in the hospital nursery, and Mrs. WQED, the television station where he created Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood and The Children’s Corner before it, urged neighbors from Pittsburgh and beyond to wear sweaters in Fred’s honor. This year’s World Kindness Day (which has apparently existed since 1998) seemed to be co-opted by Fred. We all need a little sunshine.Īs publicity for the new movie spread, many of the articles and much of the social media talk focused on one theme: kindness. ![]() ![]() ![]() And who could blame us, really? So many of us feel like we’re stumbling around in the dark these days, bleary-eyed from the incessant news cycle, wide-eyed with unending worry in the wee hours. ![]() I feared Fred Rogers on the big screen might be perfect or saintly (the real one wasn’t), all sunshine and no darkness. It’s too easy to flatten Fred in memory, to make him two-dimensional and crop him into whatever shape we think we need. This nostalgia is so tempting that I was worried about the film. The problem is that the ’60s and ’70s and ’80s and ’90s, the decades when Fred was building and broadcasting his Neighborhood, were not simple. Nostalgia suggests that there was a simpler time, that Mister Rogers was a simple man, that Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was a simple show where we could find respite from political rancor and weaponized fear-if only we could figure out how to get back there. It certainly doesn’t build neighborhoods of care, which is the work Fred Rogers was all about. It doesn’t heal any ills or bind any wounds. But nostalgia, while pleasant, is static. ![]()
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