Fred Rogers |
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"Is your dad Mr. Rogers?" That was the question kids in my school would
always ask me. At first I told the truth. "No, just the same name." But
that got boring and after a while I began saying "yes." Kids would stare
at me in disbelief, "nuh-uh, you mean that guy on TV is really your
dad?" I would nod and they would say, "cool!" And they really thought
it was true. No one ever believed I was related to Will, Roy or Kenny
but for some reason it was easy to convince people I was Fred's son. Who
knows why? Maybe it was my quiet, gentle demeanor, maybe it was the constant
daydreaming, maybe it was the cardigan I wore all through grade school.
I'm not sure. But what ever it was, kids were buying it. And I liked it.
Not only because it was fun to fool the other kids, but because I secretly
wished he really was my dad. Didn't all kids? That's probably why they
were so eager to believe. Nothing against my father, of course, but Fred
was there when I really needed him. My parents were split up by the time
I was three and in those early years TV became my closest friend. His messages were simple. "You are special." " I like you just the way you are." "Please, won't you be my neighbor." But to those of us who tuned in every day they became the building blocks of self-esteem. He taught us tolerance and acceptance before we could even say the words. If only the Arafats, Sharons, Osamas, Saddams and, yes, even the Ws out there had watched Mr. Rogers when they were growing up, this world couldn't help but be a better place to live. I drew this cartoon back in 1994. Mr. Rogers called me up and asked for the original. I told him it was the least I could do after all he had done for me. |
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