In my fiftieth year I became a father for the first time.
Before that I really had no idea...about anything human, outside of friendship and sex, anyway. I thought that I had, of course; I thought that I had plumbed the depths of despair with a Tristan-like passion over lost loves, missed opportunities, and failed ideals.
Becoming a parent has put that into perspective. (I ramble as preamble.)
My elder child, Henry, is four. He is allowed approximately 45mins of TV a day as a maximum. On many days he watches no television. At weekends he will sometimes, if it is raining, be allowed to watch a film. Because his viewing time is so limited, he has become used to being selective in what he watches, which is a good thing. His favourite shows and films over the past year or two have been enlightening for me as a parent. I have had to sit through many episodes of: Postman Pat, Fireman Sam, Ben and Holly's Little Kingdom, Peppa Pig, and Octonauts. His most recent favourites are Tree-Fu Tom and, amazingly enough, the original series of Thunderbirds.
In all of these programmes young children are exposed to the sorts of problems where the solutions can be found with a bit of thought and sometimes a bit of super technology, or maybe magic, or maybe good old fashioned common-sense. In almost all of these programmes rescue, repair, and respect are the main themes which underlie the plots, such as they can be said to have. Within these shows the problems the characters face are ones within the compass of small folk to understand; and given an adult's perspective, can be said to have narratives with positive agenda.
However, somehow or other (Nursery School?) Henry has become aware of Power Rangers. A TV Series which has never met a problem it couldn't punch, shoot, or stab its way out of. Of this fact I was unaware until I sat down with Henry to watch the second episode I had recorded; him having sat through the first one on his own while I busied myself in the kitchen. As of now I wish he'd stuck to Postman Pat as he has spent three days trying to punch or kick me, SWMBO, Kay (the Nanny) and his sister Æ. I am less than impressed.
Ye gods, when your children's narratives only contain ridiculously reductive and simplistic battles between good and evil, and necessitate extreme violence as the only solution to any of the problems faced by the good guys, it is no wonder that American children grow up into American adults.
No more Power Rangers for Henry, though he does appear to have energy to burn. But maybe the self-discipline brought on by sport, or the Dojo, or a musical instrument will be his punishment. I shall not put it quite like that, though. At his prep they start on violin in Reception. I shall have to enrol him for football and cricket. Karate too.
At the risk of repeating myself, I do wish he'd stuck to Postman Pat, or maybe even Thunderbirds.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
