Mr. Rogers Was a Blogger
Been watching a lot of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood and knitting. With the children, that is, not (she hastily added) on my own. The knitting is therapeutic, very soothing and yet productive since I somehow managed to catch that ‘redemption through work’ thingy despite it not really being part of my hugely Catholic upbringing. Perhaps it’s just guilt. Guilt was a part of my hugely Catholic upbringing.
However, Mr. Rogers is even more therapeutic. He’s so calm, so gentle. He speaks so deliberately, as if every word really matters to him, and as if it matters that we understand him. He is also entirely, remarkably, genuine. There’s no hamming for the camera. No showmanship. Just him. It’s not like he ever does anything too wacky. He just plays a little, talks a little. Maybe shows us something interesting he heard about or was thinking about. He lays his own self bare to us, and assumes, gently, humbly, that his being honest about himself will connect him to us. That it will make us feel better about our own struggles, whether we’re five or the parent of a five year old.
In fact, he’s a sort of proto-blogger. He just comes along for a little while every day and shares something of himself with his “television neighbors.” He creates community despite the clear separation of himself from us. His honesty allows him to transcend distance and connect.
There’s no real reason that blogs should be interesting. Most bloggers are not wonderful writers. They don’t have fascinating, jet-setting lives. They’re just people, doing stuff and writing about it. That’s it, of course. Mr. Rogers, like the best bloggers, doesn’t work to the punch line and doesn’t try to be witty, interesting or politically savvy. He’s just honest. In his honesty, he creates connection. And the more I think about it, the more I think that’s what this is about. Connection.
