Fozzie Bear
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http://spotlight.encarta.msn.com/Fe...tary_default_article_BigBirdDie.html?GT1=9145
Is It Time for Big Bird to Die?
by Martha Brockenbrough
If you have children, there are some things you're no longer allowed to say out loud. For example: Elmo from Sesame Street is "an annoying tool."
That choice phrase came from Joel Stein of the Los Angeles Times. He does not have children and therefore doesn't have to worry about getting pounded on by his own two-year-old. (I know Joel. A toddler could definitely take him.)
At any rate, I'm glad Joel said it, because it means I don't have to, even if it's what I think every time I hear Elmo's cheese-grater voice. My dislike of Elmo is strong enough that every time I hear Blue’s Clues cited as being even more educational than Sesame Street, I do a little happy dance.
And please don't send me hate mail if you love Elmo, if your kids love Elmo, or if you are Elmo's mother. He's like peas. Some people will find him delectable; I am not one of them. Simply put, he doesn't tickle me.
So when my editor asked me to write a story on whether Sesame Street deserves to live, given the quality of educational children's programming on stations that don't receive public money, I thought, "Bring it on! I've got a sack full of Armageddon with Elmo's name on it."
And it wasn't just Elmo that had my dander up; it was the between-show commercials for junk food, and some of the programming offered on my local PBS station that really had me wondering whether the golden age for public broadcasting had passed.
This very attitude means it's a good thing I'm not in charge of such things.
Elmo, a necessary evil
I've since learned that defenestrating Elmo is a terrible idea, even if Sesame Street no longer has the same place in my heart that it did when I was a little kid. The reality is, despite some flaws, the Public Broadcasting Service helps protect kids from what could happen if programming for them were left up to people who didn't have their interest in mind. As my friend and former preschool teacher Erin puts it, "Elmo is evil. But he is a necessary evil."
First things first, though. I've written before about television and the good it can do for little kids.
As long as your kids are at least two years old, then limited time in front of the right programming can actually be helpful. My gut tells me that it can be more than helpful--good programming can be a powerful educational tool.
After all, TV is just another form of media. Books are media. People have been learning with the aid of print since the days of papyrus.
Oscar the Grouch--not the worst trash in the can
Radio, too, is media. The British in particular have done a good job programming theirs with quality stuff. As Professor Jennings Bryant of the University of Alabama explained it, the choice to put educational fare on the air was done intentionally, after the British saw the effects of unregulated commercial stuff in the United States, and strictly regulated propaganda in the Soviet Union. British schools actually played their broadcasts in classrooms in the 1930s. (Can you imagine Ryan Seacrest's American Top 40 being played by teachers today? Me neither.)
I actually think if the right stuff were broadcast on television and the radio, it would make great sense to incorporate it into school classrooms. While some students could watch educational programming that supported their school curriculum, teachers could spend that time working with the remaining students--a far less expensive way to improve the teacher-student ratio than hiring actual people (something school districts can't afford to do these days, alas).
For example, my daughter is studying the rain forest in kindergarten; I'd have no objection to her seeing carefully made video of an actual rain forest and the animals that live there. Frankly, that could help the subject matter come to life even more than through books, art projects, and discussion alone.
The problem is, though, that sort of programming doesn't happen if people don't make it a priority. And if you leave it up to "market forces," as the opponents of public television advocate, you wind up with Wheel of Fortune being passed off as educational programming. Or a show like Oscar's Orchestra, which claimed to teach appreciation of classical music, but did so by pairing a classical soundtrack with an action-adventure story chock-full of violence, according to Broadcasting & Cable magazine.
It's a little like claiming ketchup is a vegetable, something that is not just objectionable because tomatoes are actually fruit. Unless someone is setting some standards and watching over things, creative minds motivated by profit will do whatever makes the most money. This is what market forces do. They don't worry about the long-term effects on our kids.
Brought to you by the letter "A" (for effort)
Fortunately, we do have some history of people trying to ensure TV has educational fare. As Prof. Bryant shared with me, the first woman to be a Federal Communications Commissioner, Frieda B. Hennock, made the case that 10 percent of the channels on TV be set aside for educational purposes. So in 1952, 242 channels were reserved for nonprofit educational licenses.
Educational TV didn't really take off until the 1960s and 1970s, Bryant explained, when Sesame Street and other revolutionary programs set out to achieve specific educational goals: getting kids ready for school; helping them learn to read; and enticing girls to pursue interests in science.
It was during this era that we got the Public Broadcasting Act of 1967*, when President Lyndon Johnson announced the launch of the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. The idea was that the public--and "man's spirit"--could be enriched by quality television. This only worked as long as "man's spirit" was moved to do so by the power of law.
In the 1980s, for example, when the FCC* under Ronald Reagan didn't require stations to show educational programs, only blockbuster shows such as Sesame Street and Mister Rogers' Neighborhood survived.
Congress in 1990 and 1996 passed two acts to help reverse this, requiring stations to provide three hours per week of regularly scheduled educational shows that were at least 30 minutes long, broadcast between 7 AM and 10 PM. And, interestingly enough, commercial channels like Nick Jr. and the Disney Channel showed that curriculum-based programming could also be profitable. Blue's Clues in the year 2000 earned $1 billion. And honestly, this is where market forces can come into play. When these quality shows compete against each other, they get better.
Even so, as much of a fan as I am of Blue's Clues, Dora the Explorer, and Go, Diego, Go!, history has shown that shows like these tend to disappear when networks aren't required to produce them.
This and budget cuts to public television affect poor children disproportionately. Not only are these kids less likely to get cable channels, but the less money that PBS has, the more it must run inexpensive, noneducational shows like The Berenstain Bears, and the more it must rely on sponsors--not all of which are trying to serve the best interests of kids.
It's not just the junky, violent cartoons that have ads, after all. Even quality commercial and public programs have advertisements--and lots of them. The ads might not appear during the shows, but they squat on either side like gargoyles.
Big Bird is spared (reluctantly)
I sat down to watch a 30-minute Diego with my three-year-old, and counted 12 ads in the minutes before and after the show. Even if a child was restricted to educational programming only, that's still 24 commercial messages an hour for everything including minivans, wrinkle cream, insurance, cleaning products, and toys.
Even PBS, which seems like it should be above such things, has run ads for fast food and sugared cereals. Even when they're tastefully produced, the end goal--getting kids to eat these foods--is not what we need in an age of rampant obesity.
And kids are more vulnerable to this stuff than their elders. The American Psychological Association says that children younger than eight don't have the capacity to make critical judgments of advertising. They believe what they see on TV, accepting ads as "truthful, accurate and unbiased," the APA reported in 2000, after an extensive review of research on children and advertising. (They also reported that the average child sees 40,000 TV commercials a year--yikes!)
I observed some of the effects of this firsthand. My daughters saw repeated commercials for a product called "Moon Sand," and decided this is what they'd ask Santa to bring for Christmas. Apparently, my kids were not alone in this. Moon Sand was sold out at both online and local toy stores, and fetched a premium on eBay. When the girl who lived next door saw my kids had gotten it (at the eBay price, I might add), she said, "I love Moon Sand!"
I asked her if she had some at home. She said, "No! I saw it on TV!"
What this tells me is that we can't really harness the educational power of television until ads are no longer required.
In other words, the answer to the problem isn't getting rid of PBS because of annoying characters like Elmo, or weak programming like The Berenstain Bears. Rather, it's to fund it so that the power of the medium can be used to the best advantage of our children. I predict that happens at exactly the time I am given control of the world.
So in other words, never. But if we as a society decided we cared about kids more than we cared about profit, we wouldn't settle for anything less.