Conversing with the Child Inside

I try to keep the child inside of me alive and kicking.

I do not remember watching “Mister Rogers' Neighborhood” as a child.  I recall seeing episodes of his program, but I cannot say that I considered him my neighbor.  My childhood memories are of Maypoles and Fourth of July fireworks, of summer evenings spent chasing lightning bugs and Hide-and-Seekers to the symphony of cicadas that surrounded us in the trees.  That was my neighborhood. 

We used a neighbor's oak tree as Base for every game of Hide-and-Seek.

A man in tennis shoes and a zippered cardigan did not educate me; however, I feel as though the Mister Rogers whom Tom Junod portrays in “Can You Say… Hero?” would approve of my childhood.  In the profile, Junod uses astounding detail to paint a picture of this famous man who touched so many lives through his program.  Through observation, Junod is able to recount various stories about Mister Rogers as well as those affected by him, and these observations lead us to understand the man behind the cardigan.  What’s more, they lead us to understand more about ourselves.

I think that a great profile accurately depicts an individual and the impact that he or she has—why is this person important?—while making that individual relatable.  To care about the subject, readers must be able to relate to it.  To make us really understand Mister Rogers, then, Junod had to make us see the connection we have with the star.  Mister Rogers speaks to children.  Thus, he must speak to the child in all of us.  In “Can You Say… Hero?”, Junod does just that: he makes Mister Rogers reach out to the child inside.

I love that Junod accomplishes this through telling a bit of his own childhood and how getting to know Mister Rogers changed his life.  What Junod does is a mark of truly good writing: in writing about himself, he challenges the readers to think about our own childhoods.  When he throws Old Rabbit out of the car, I pictured the times I lost my beloved stuffed animals and dolls; when he prays, I think of the times I’ve prayed furiously for something and then have not learned from the experience.  By connecting Mister Rogers to himself, Junod causes us to connect him to ourselves.  In this manner, we enter into a personal relationship, a personal conversation, with Mister Rogers that really has nothing to do with the writer.  This is a mark of brilliant writing.

The detailed picture that Junod paints helps place us in the scene and create a cohesive vision of the life and surroundings of Mister Rogers.  From images like “The place was drab and dim, with the smell of stalled air and a stain of daguerreotype sunlight on its closed, slatted blinds…” to scenes such as, “…he leaned back from his waist and opened his mouth wide with astonishment, like someone trying to catch a peanut he had tossed into the air…”, we grasp exactly what his life looks like and how he acts in private and in public.  It is a remarkably detailed story that allows us to walk for a while in those famous tennis shoes.

My favorite detail, however, that Junod utilizes is the style in which he writes the story.  He uses a combination of short sentences with long run-on ones, including extensive phrases and descriptions that only a child could follow.  That is the point: he writes the story just like Mister Rogers speaks to the children who watch his show.  Though some sentences are long, they flow like a stream of consciousness, and the simplicity of the story is of the kind children require.  Watching a short clip of “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” gives us a glimpse at the similarities between Mister Rogers’ speech and Junod’s writing style.  By writing this way, Junod makes is sound as though Mister Rogers is talking directly to us.

Junod’s descriptive profile “Can You Say… Hero?” allows us to speak to Mister Rogers, even if he was not a large figure in our own childhoods. Mister Rogers stresses the fact that we each have “special ones who have loved us into being.”  While reading this piece, I could not help but take his advice and think of—and thank—those people who have helped me become who I am.  My childhood was full of these figures, and I think he would appreciate that I was so blessed.  I, too, was a child once, and my neighborhood of family and friends filled that little girl with hope and love.  And I like to think that in those times I did watch “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” I felt his love emanating from the screen, just as it does from his words.

Capturing the American Boy

My nephews, Andrew, 9, and Alex, 8, refuse to take normal photographs.

In April, my nephew Alex and one of his friends went missing for a couple of hours. As he does not live in the best neighborhood in Kansas City and was 7 years old at the time, my family was frantic. As dusk neared, nearly 100 people as well as the police were searching for them. Suddenly the two boys came walking up the street. According to Alex’s friend, who was roughly the same age, a man in a big black car picked them up, drove around for a few hours and dropped them back off at home. When the police asked Alex what happened, he excitedly explained that they had followed a raccoon into the nearby woods and froze like statues every time he stopped so he wouldn’t see them!

As I read Susan Orlean’s “The American Male at Age Ten,” I could not help but think of spending time with my two nephews. Andrew is almost 10 and Alex just turned 8, so they are at the same stage of life as Colin Duffy, Orlean’s subject. When Colin speaks, I actually hear my nephews’ voices, and I see them doing many of the same activities as he. This is the basis for why I believe “The American Male at Age Ten” is such a good story. Most people know or have known a boy around the age of 10, and Orlean’s details are uncanny. From his clothing to his bedroom to his future goals, we can picture Colin standing in front of us; or, more accurately, we can think of someone in particular who channels Colin’s spirit. I have had conversations with my nephews about girls that were exact imitations of Orlean’s talk with Colin and Japeth.

Based on the popular culture references, we can tell that this story was written several years ago; this means that Colin’s fashion sense and video game interests, for example, are out of date. What makes this story good, though, are not the exact pop culture references, but the spirit of the 10-year-old boy that these references reflect and that still echoes in today’s boys. So often we read about extreme children that rest on either side of a behavior spectrum. Either they are the angel children of the 1950s or the rotten kids of today. It is refreshing to read a piece about a boy who, though maybe slightly naïve, is real—so real that we may know kids like him.

Orlean approaches this story from two different angles: as the interviewer and as the invisible fly on the wall. Though she does ask questions and receives wonderful responses, many of the details and quotes come from quiet observation. Clearly, this technique works well for her and could be a valuable resource for me in the future. It is this candid realism that I like best about this story. Much of what I like to read looks at the world realistically, simply observing what is going on. In fact, though I am not a parent and certainly not a new dad, I enjoy reading my cousin’s husband’s blog about fatherhood. On noodad.com, Greg tries to help other fathers of young children with genuine, funny and frank posts.

 

I appreciate “The American Male at Age Ten” mostly because of its connection to my nephews; I know it must have taken eternal patience to hang out with Colin Duffy. This is also, however, how I knew it was a wonderful story. In illustrating Colin, Orlean was able to tell the story of countless young American boys.

Chasing My Art Form

Claude Monet planted his gardens at Giverny as a place to find inspiration for his paintings, as he did with these famous water lilies.

This summer I traveled to Paris. I found many new loves while wandering the avenues (why can we not have crêpe stands on the streets of Omaha?), but one of the greatest joys I discovered was the art that permeates the city. From the Louvre to the Musée d’Orsay, magnificent works surrounded me. I learned the history behind these pieces and delighted in the emotions they aroused in me. One emotion I recognized, however, was not delightful at all: jealousy. How could I ever reach these artists’ levels of success, igniting in others the awe, joy, sorrow or whatever other sensations I felt? I have never been much of an artist, and among these giants, I was insignificant.

 Writing is my art form. I do very little creative writing and dread having to write academic papers, yet words are still the medium through which I best express myself. I have found that once I actually sit down and force myself to compose a piece, I truly enjoy the writing process. This process usually begins with me waiting until the last moment before I begin. This may not be conducive to creativity, but procrastination is a hard habit to break. I will then come up with a brief outline, though it is likely to change course once I start; my best ideas typically form when I have already written a significant portion of the piece. From there, I let the subject take me wherever it will. After I am finished, I will let the piece sit (maybe only ten minutes or so, given the deadline), and then I will edit.  Usually I edit as I go along, so this final step does not yield many changes.  Finally, I type in the title and consider it complete.

Rather than paints and brushes, my favorite tools are my computer and a thesaurus.  Synonyms are some of my best friends. I feel that they can make any form of writing poetic. That is what I love best about writing; I can transform a boring sentence into a beautiful one. I enjoy stretching my mind in order to come up with new ways of phrasing and structuring my thoughts. Writing is frustrating, however, in that as an art form, it takes time to develop. My procrastination often leaves me little time for creativity.

When I read, I usually search out articles from magazines such as Newsweek or websites such as CNN.com and NPR.org.  These I read to stay informed about what is going on in the world. I also am a big book fan, though the ones I typically read are novels or memoirs. I rarely read blogs or print newspapers, as I do not think to seek them out. I like the websites and books I read for their quickly accessed information as well as their entertainment value.

My writing must become more concise, as this entry may suggest. I tend to write long sentences, which can become tedious, and I love to use flowery language. I also would like to think more outside the box when it comes to style and how I approach different stories. Reporting has forced me to do this, for news stories must be written concisely and in a certain format. Though this challenges me, I do enjoy the work. I am not a fan of interviewing people, however, and this creates problems when it comes to reporting.

This semester I will work to hone my art and try new ways of expressing myself. Though I may never successfully imitate Monet with my writing, I will attempt to capture some of the life in his paintings with my words.