Life’s lessons from TV and those ‘special films’

Joanne Roepke

In fourth grade we took home a lot of forms that we would bring back with our parent’s signature on them (or at the very least your good friend’s valiant attempt at your parent’s penmanship while on the bus to school.)

I never looked at those forms — that was a job for my mom and dad. So I was taken by surprise one day when upon returning our forms, Miss Decker split up the girls and the boys and informed us we were going to watch a “special film.” Remember that? Meanwhile the boys were sent outside to play kick ball.

The “special film” turned out to be about growing up, the changes in girls bodies, menstr — wait a minute, I don’t need to tell you this. You’ve probably learned it all by now.

If you just weren’t paying attention during the film, then that’s your own tough luck. It was a pretty hush-hush topic, especially in the fourth grade. Rather than relay the information to us through a living breathing teacher, the school chose to show us a film about it.

Avoidance? Not really. Necessity is more like it. Could you talk seriously to a bunch of 10-year-olds squirming around in their seats, trying not to look at each other and giggle? And don’t forget the frequent reminders that “If you aren’t mature enough to handle this …” More giggles.

We watched more films in sixth grade, during another session on human development, with more films and awkward discussion afterwards. Even the inquires that turned up in the supposedly anonymous question box seemed forced and uncomfortable. Films seem to be the way to go. It was easier on both the teachers and the students.

A few months ago when the television sitcom star “Ellen” became America’s most well-known released hostage from the closet, I felt surprisingly good about it. A friend of mine said she did not want her children to learn about homosexuality from watching a TV show.

I wondered why not.

After all, that’s how kids are used to learning. It’s the same concept as the film projector, but simply more high-tech. The world has changed a little since we were in fourth grade. The film projector has been bumped out of classrooms for a TV and VCR combo, and issues extend beyond the simple laws of puberty to alcohol and drug prevention and AIDS awareness.

If a kid is going to learn about homosexuality, I would much rather have them watch a show that presents the issue in a positive and often amusing light, rather than learning from a biased parent who consistently makes degrading comments to his or her family about a lesbian co-worker, a newspaper article about a radical gay, lesbian, bisexual protest or a handout from a church stating all the reasons on how to change to fit in with the rest of the world.

Parents can try to talk to their children about what’s going on in the world, but the film system seems to be so ingrained in our heads, what they see every night during prime time is the stuff that will stick in their little impressionable minds. And ours.

I think this theory that people believe what they see on TV can be proven true simply by looking back a couple decades.

Do you see the pictures of your parents in wild pants and short skirts? Hold on to that mental picture. Have you ever noticed the clothes worn in that delightful rerun that can be enjoyed by the whole family, “The Brady Bunch?” Need I say more? Monkey see, monkey do, when it comes to matters of the boob tube. (That’s a personal growth and development reference for all you fourth-graders at heart, playing along.)

Perhaps we can extend this film-showing thing to work in other aspects of our life, when we’re discussing issues that we find unpleasant to talk about. Failing a class? Make a film for your professor about how busy you are this semester.

Find yourself needing another semester of school and wondering how to tell your parents? Show them a film about how great it is to be a college student.

Have a crush on someone and you are afraid to tell them? Show that special person the personal growth and development flick.

Only now, you’re free to giggle.


Joanne Roepke is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Aurora.