June 25, 2012
The Indelible Mister Rogers
Mr. Rogers’ cardigan at the National Museum of American History
However you feel about the Mister Rogers Remixed video that’s gone viral over the past few weeks, one thing is certain (which was certainly reinforced by the popularity of that video): Mr. Rogers has had a lasting, positive and calming effect on millions of children and adults since his show, “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” first aired in the U.S. in 1968. How many of us can recite every word to “It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood” on command like we’d just heard it yesterday?
So to discover that one of Fred Rogers’ many cardigans had been donated to the Smithsonian’s permanent collection for safekeeping is to find myself in a moment of inescapable nostalgia about this great, understated man. And yes, Mr. Rogers did manage to be great and understated. No mean feat, unless you slowly change into a cardigan every day for 33 years and leave an indelible mark on children and adults alike.
In case you’ve forgotten (although that seems virtually impossible!), every episode of the show began with Mr. Rogers entering his house from some invisible outside world and singing “Won’t you be my neighbor?” as he took off his sport coat, hung it up in his hall closet, and reached back in for one of his many trademark cardigans, zipping it up and then sitting down to swap out his classic oxfords for sneakers, singing all the while. Ingrained in our collective memories (and in various iterations on YouTube), that is how the show began for the more than three decades it was on the air.
Even if we were too young to realize it and really couldn’t have cared less, Mr. Rogers’ cardigan – and his casual uniform we grew so accustomed to seeing – taught us about clothing. Yes, there are the innumerable and literal trends that have been derived from his signature, and very identifiable look – from versions in hipster-chic Urban Outfitters to preppy Ralph Lauren. But that’s not what I’m referring to. What did his daily routine, catchy ditty and ritual of transforming out of his stiffer outerwear and into more comfortable loungewear teach us, as children, that we may have unknowingly taken into our adult lives? Perhaps that a simple change of clothes can help us shake off the stresses of the world. That slipping into some dependable and relatively unremarkable clothes after a long day at work is like hitting a refresh button where we can transition into a more calm state of mind. That a wardrobe change allows us to tap into creative impulses we might have gotten stuck only associating with the simplicity of childhood.
Before going too far into the land of make believe, how about a few fun facts and an image? First the facts: Did you know that Mr. Rogers’ mother, Nancy, hand-knit each and every one of those sweaters the color-blind host pulled out from his closet every day?
And this image: The Presbyterian minister-turned-TV-host is wearing his red cardigan to meet then-President George W. Bush at the White House. Yes, this a few decades after he testified in front of Congress.
I like to think that Mr. Rogers’ daily costume change inadvertently made us think about how he managed to be great while so understated—and how we try to live up to his standards. His deliberate routine, which ordinarily could have been accomplished in under a minute, may have prompted us to slow down or be more thoughtful about how we interact with the people and things in our lives. Maybe it’s wishful thinking in this fast-fashion, fast-food, fast-paced world we live in, but I bet that years of watching Mr. Rogers made his dedicated viewers understand there’s no need to be fast or flashy to make a deep impression.
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“Threaded” is a clever name for this blog.
I particularly like the word “thread” when referring to an ongoing discussion with various participants that weave through a variety of subjects.
Mr. Rogers style was definitely slow and understated which probably alienated a few people, but in the end, his lasting legacy of patience and kindness lives on.
I loved mister Rogers as a child. I always looked forward to what color sweater he would pull out of the closet. When I learned to knit, the first thing I wanted was a zippered cardigan. He and his mom are an inspiration to many!
Everybody knows what happened to Mister Rogers’ sweaters…but what about all those sneakers and sport-coats?
I may have only caught a few episodes as a youngster, but even so, many years later, I cannot help but feel that calm and comfort that Mr. Rogers exuded. As a knitter, knowing now that his cardigans (the visible emblem of his calm and comfort) were handknit by a loved one makes it so much more special, and makes me feel like I have something of that calm & comfort in my own life.
Two comments, and the second is opinionated, but I hope not too much for this venue.
First: A lovely bit of trivia regarding the sweater and sneakers that you may already know. Back in the days of live TV only, Mister Rogers ran to the studio from seminary. He dressed up in coat & tie for class, as people did in those days, and some days he did not have time to don his less threatening, less authoritative outfit before showtime. Originally, he shifted into more casual clothing because time pressures meant he had to; later, he made it part of his entrance routine because he wanted to. It infused his personality with an aura of gentle, kind, trustworthiness — what he wanted to project to children whom, he imagined, might not necessarily have a safe, affirming authority figure in their lives.
Second is the painful one. When Fred Rogers died, in the spring of 2003 — within days of the moment we were taken to a war by a President who lied to us — it was heartbreaking for me to realize that the innocence, kindness, generosity, and trust I described above were no longer the values that our country projected to the world. Mister Rogers believed television should be slow, quiet, and verbal — not purely visual and exuding … well, shock and awe. It goes without saying that he had nothing to sell: commercial manipulation, which sometimes seems like all we have left in American culture, was never something he was interested in. Fred Rogers thought the medium of television could help young people grow and feel better about themselves. Nobody will ever replace him, and his death left us poorer, emptier, louder, and stupider. Even his puppet villain, Lady Elaine, deserved forgiveness, and didn’t put forward the cruel, ugly face our culture presents to the world today.
Loved Mr. Roger’s! He was a strong advocate for PBS funding and bringing educational programs to kids across the country. In 1969, he testified before the Senate Subcommittee on Communication.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXEuEUQIP3Q
Enlightening! I had never reflected on the significance of Mr. Roger’s clothes change–will make me more conscious about my own attire. And I had no idea that his mom knit the sweaters!
The first time I ever saw Mr. Rogers was in 1983, when I was 33 years old. I had heard people talk about him – and make fun of him – but I had never seen him. I stumbled across him on TV. I cried and cried and cried. He was the kindest adult I had ever seen. I never grew up with adults like him – my parents were harsh, critical and distant, as were many adults in the 1950s. I think if I had seen Mr, Rogers when I was young, it would have helped me to realize that some adults could be kind and caring towards children. (Maybe it would have saved me years of therapy!!) I do miss him. He gave real meaning to the word “decent”.
Mister Rogers was a staple for me as a child as well as Sesame Street. I would be glued to the TV as Mr. Rogers opened up a whole new world of possibilities and knowledge. He made me realize that pretending things were a healthy and normal thing for not only kids but adults too. I cried for a few hours after I heard he passed on, knowing my youngest girl would miss seeing him on TV every day too. He was a blessed man and made many children feel joy and peaceful. Blessed be to this wonderful soul, may I meet him someday in the Summerlands.