Fred Rogers is more than just a red cardigan, Sperry’s sneakers and a warm smile. On the show “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” he gently addressed real-life topics, including divorce, death and even getting a haircut, in a way that was understandable to children.
Most importantly, Rogers himself testified to a U.S. Senate subcommittee in 1968 in defense of nationally funded public broadcasting, which helped save the life of PBS and set a precedent for how America thinks about educational programming for children.
During the heat of the Vietnam War and budget woes, President Richard Nixon intended to slash federal funding toward public television in half. Rogers had a different vision for the future of public television.
Rather than droning on about budgetary details, facts and figures, Rogers demonstrated the effect of his programming on the lives of children when he testified to Sen. John O. Pastore, the chairman of the Subcommittee on Communication.
Silly cartoons and animated violence dominated children’s programming at the time, but Rogers knew that addressing the real “drama” in children’s lives would hit a much deeper, long-lasting vein in the intellectual and emotional development of children.
“I feel that if we in public television can only make it clear that feelings are mentionable and manageable, we will have done a great service for mental health,” Rogers said.
Pastore, the intimidating, conservative Rhode Island senator, had little intent of giving in to the requests of the still-young Corporation for Public Broadcasting, wrote Gene Marks in Entrepreneur.
Nevertheless, Rogers persisted.
“I think that it’s much more dramatic that two men could be working out their feelings of anger — much more dramatic than showing something of gunfire,” Rogers said.
After his firm, yet tender speech, Rogers asked for permission to recite the words from one of the show’s songs:
“What do you do with the mad that you feel / When you feel so mad you could bite? / When the whole wide world seems oh so wrong / And nothing you do seems very right. / What do you do? Do you punch a bag? / Do you pound some clay or some dough? / Do you round up friends for a game of tag / Or see how fast you go? / It’s great to be able to stop / When you’ve planned the thing that’s wrong / And be able to do something else instead / And think this song.
“I can stop when I want to / Can stop when I wish. / Can stop, stop, stop anytime. / And what a good feeling to feel like this / And know that the feeling is really mine. / Know that there’s something deep inside / That helps us become what we can. / For a girl can be someday a lady / And a boy can be someday a man.”
Pastore, jaw leaning in hand, let down his guard as he listened to Rogers’ lyricism.
“Well, I’m supposed to be a pretty tough guy, and this is the first time I’ve had goose bumps for the last two days,” Pastore said. “I think it’s wonderful. Looks like you just earned the $20 million.”
Not only was “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” able to continue for another 32 years, the funding paved the way for other programs like “Sesame Street,” “Nova,” “Masterpiece” and so many others since then.
The funding Rogers fought so hard for has been both threatened and defended since that day in 1969; yet his words live on, backed by generations of individuals and families who have been enriched by decades of public television.
“A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood,” a biographical drama about Rogers’ life, starring Tom Hanks, is hitting theaters Nov. 22 and will be the second movie made about the beloved cardiganed-man in the last two years.