I hate finding pictures from my childhood. I’ll be cruising through a photo album and it’s like being blindsided by a 300 pound tackle. Speaking of 300 pounds…
I was a fat, lonely kid with a lousy home life and no friends. Seriously, none. A slew of allergies, asthma and a particularly weird skin ailment that made me break out whenever sweating (seriously – I was allergic to my own perspiration) kept me indoors far too much. No, I wasn’t quite the “boy in the plastic bubble”…but close enough.
I did ride my bike a lot, especially during the cool autumn months in North Alabama. But those allergies meant no team sports, so I missed out on most of the bonding experiences other boys enjoyed. Far too much of my time was spent indoors, alone.
My mom used to drive all over town to find one unsuspecting kid who’d spend an afternoon with me. If their parents were gullible enough to say yes, their child would be immersed in my little fantasy world of old movies and music for the entire afternoon until they escaped.
Needless to say, they rarely ever returned and mom had to work the phone again.
I know this sounds like the backstory for a serial killer: the neighbors said, “He was a quiet kid, always stayed to himself. And we just thought all that digging in his back yard meant he had a green thumb…” But in spite of that trajectory, I managed to grow up and become a fairly functional adult.
How did I overcome my challenges? Simple – Fred Rodgers.
Mister Rogers Neighborhood was my salvation. I watched it every day, and Misterogers was my best friend. He told me I was special, even when my own father didn’t want me around. He taught me how to be a friend and get along with people, even those from different backgrounds. His positive smile assured me there was nothing to be afraid of, but that the differences were worthy of celebration. I learned that another person’s talents or opinions in no way diminished my own.
Yeah, I know it sounds a little syrupy. But for a lonely boy growing up with a very angry father figure, Fred Rogers taught me that manhood didn’t have to come with a threatening tone and disgusted look. And somewhere between the cold distancing of my father and the warm acceptance of Mr. Rogers, I discovered the kind of man I wanted to be.
The real Fred Rogers was quite a fascinating person. An ordained Presbyterian minister, we’ve now discovered he collected troubled people like others collect sea shells. He spent inordinate amounts of time with those who had nothing to offer him and befriended people simply because they needed him. And while he had a private life with his family, the testimonies of most everyone who really knew him agree he was pretty much the same man in private that you saw on your TV screen.
I guess it’s because of those years learning from Fred Rogers that I grew to value kindness. But the power of his big smile and open heart seem out of place in this current generation. Perhaps he was the subject of one too many SNL sketches. His love seems too simplistic and wide-eyed for our cynical world to take seriously.
Sadly, I believe kindness is seen today as weakness. It seems quaintly irrelevant as our political campaigns swirl down a disposal of insult, innuendo, and accusation. Candidates of opposing parties used to be able to muster grudging respect for the presumed patriotism of the other side. But no more. It’s breathtaking to me, and I’m afraid we’re all too angry to accept any cure now.
Have we gone beyond the point of no return? Maybe.
But the way forward seems so easy to me, if we’d only take it. And it would only cost us the price of a little humility and understanding.
You see, I’ve been around lots of people from different backgrounds. I have lots of dear friends of other faiths or even no faith. I never back down or compromise what I believe in order to conform to them – they all know where I stand. We simply treat each other with respect and kindness like Fred treated all his guests who dropped by his TV home.
From Fred’s complete acceptance of anyone and everyone, I’ve learned to value people more than the opinions they hold. You’d have to try pretty hard to be Fred Roger’s enemy. So I make it nearly impossible to be mine.
My question is: if Fred Rogers could love most anybody, why can’t we?
In the current climate, it’s getting tougher and tougher to “disagree agreeably”. If you disagree with someone, they now accuse you of hating them. We have elevated our opinions to a place of worship.
We all seriously need to get over ourselves. This constant “drawing of lines in the sand” is merely “idol worship” where we expect everyone to bow to what we believe.
Without trying to overstate things, I believe it’s destroying our nation…and our souls.
In the past couple of years, two movies have been released about Fred: one a documentary and the other a drama with Tom Hanks. It’s clear from their reception that people adore Misterogers. What I can’t grasp is, if people love him so, why are so few people determined to live like him.
From growing up lonely, I learned how important relationships are. So the way we casually discard friendships due to some silly disagreement that will soon pass is tragic to me. What a waste!
I remember finding an old record album of Mister Rogers when I was 18. I had picked up a handful of LPs from home to bring with me to college, and it had accidentally snuck into the pile. I remember my roommate and I laughing our way through it, drawing hundreds of innuendos from his innocent little songs. I eventually threw it away, not wanting anyone to find it and think I still liked it.
Today, I’d give anything to have that album back.
In this angry world, we can use all the Mister Rogers we can get. And in the midst of a cultural civil war, we desperately need more good neighbors!
