(This is the second post in our new series, “The Tantrum,” in which each of our four regulars will address one subject over the course of a week. Read the first one here.)
See this freighter here? That’s what I would guess the imaginary container ship—the one I lied to my 3-year-old about—would look like. At some point this spring, despairing of my ability to keep her from watching gobs of television when I was at work, I told her that our flatscreen was broken, and that since it came from Korea, we had to ship it by freighter—a very slow freighter—back to Asia for repairs.
Actually, I had taken it off the wall and driven it over to a friend’s place in Brooklyn, so they could watch NetFlix or “Twin Peaks,” or whatever the hell they watch out there, in 42-inch Megasplendor.
It was my first big, consistent lie to my daughter (not including, I suppose, Santa), and it’s not surprising that TV was involved. It’s been perhaps our biggest point of conflict, between me and my daughter, between me and my mother-in-law who looked after her most of the time, between me and the world. I had a visceral disgust at what TV did to my daughter: it turned a curious, mousy little preschooler into a drooling pixelzombie. When it was on, she wouldn’t turn her head or answer anyone. When, as threatened, we turned it off, she cried, pleaded, cajoled like she was looking for her next rock. It was pitiful.
But now that we’ve been without a TV for the better part of a year, I wonder if I’ve got it all wrong. First, I am bit skeptical of the purported links between TV watching and obesity, violence, truancy, shingles and whatever else they try to pin on it (after all, can they really control for other factors? Kids who are parked all dad in front of a TV because Dad is out front selling meth might be obese because they eat Cocoa Puffs for dinner, not because of the TV).
Second, on a more emotional level: my entire generation was raised on TV, and I think we’re more or less fine. Everyone I knew was like us: being raised by single parents in broken homes. Or their parents worked and went drinking from sunup to sundown. We all had keys to let ourselves into our homes, and we all watched TV. At various points, like when I went to live with my dad, there were tighter restrictions on television. But for the most part, it was part of our lives, it coexisted with homework and sports. I can still remember the desire to keep watching to the exclusion of all else (as an adult, I would have the same feeling about cigarettes). It’s an addiction. But a manageable one.
As the University of Michigan health system says in their somewhat exhaustive list of studies and tips and resources, TV can even be prosocial, if parents and caregivers take the time to treat it right.
So, I’m headed back to Brooklyn to pick up my TV sometime soon. Hopefully before the Super Bowl. I think my prohibition era was, instead of being righteous, a symptom of something that might be even more deleterious to me and my kids: overparenting.
(Next up: The benefits of neutrality.)
I grew up without TV. And with TV. Off and on, for a year here or a couple without. I got hooked on Scooby, 3-2-1 Contact, Dr Who, and Nova early. I missed out on the whole MTV thing, and that crippled my social life for a few years.
The worst thing is the pixelzombie factor. I get sucked into a moving picture very, very easily. just don’t have the media anti-bodies that other kids developed.
She’ll turn out OK because you’re parenting.
My co-worker introduced me to your blog, today, and I’m so glad he did! Having a 5yo and and an 8yo w/Autism, I can relate to many things you’ve already posted (yes, I’ve spent about 4-5 hrs here this afternoon.)
Growing up (I’m almost 42), the TV was a luxury to us kids, and when we did get to watch it, it was usually whatever dad was watching (Football, Gunsmoke, The Rifleman, FBI: In Color, etc.)
Rarely, I got to watch the Hanna-Barbera shows, from like 330-400pm, a couple days a week. Yep, that was it. The rest was spent outside, or in my room, or somewhere my father couldn’t hear us make noise.
My kids have it much, much better than I did. My wife (a stay-at-home mom) lets them get away with entirely too much TV time. It’s tough to restrict it, when the two of us aren’t on the same page.
Thanks for the note, Rick. You’re right to bring up the wife in this conversation. I’ve been lucky so far in that mine seems to be on the same page as me, so we’ve done battle with the rest of ’em on our own. But I don’t know how she’ll feel about my change of heart and my new plan to retrieve the TV. As Spencer put it, we also lack the media anti-bodies, so in part getting rid of the TV was a way to save us from watching some stupid show when we’d be better off sleeping. I have a feeling this conversation will continue, on the blog and in our home.