WON’T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR?

February 27, 2003 - For thirty-two years the children of America were invited to be part of Mr. Roger’s neighborhood. The gentle voice and the corny rhymes were familiar and comforting to generations of our children and the butt of cutting humor for cynical adults. Mr. Rogers was diminished as the definition of a wimp. But Mr. Rogers, an ordained Presbyterian, tackled tough questions for young minds. His program dealt with death, divorce, and tried to explain war to them when their fathers and older brothers went off to fight in the Persian Gulf.

Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood was the world I grew up with – where neighbors care and come together to mourn their neighbors’ losses and celebrate their common triumphs. Critics claimed it was a message of trusting naivety and too simplistic for a complex and modern world. In 2001 Fred Rogers came out of his retirement to make a public service spot aimed at helping children deal with the September 11th tragedy.

Fred Rogers died this morning, Perhaps it is as well. He always ended his program with his signature refrain, “Won’t you be my neighbor?” Increasingly in this complex and modern world the answer to Mister Rogers question has been. “No”. Neighbors care about each other. We fight each other for the biggest piece of the pie. Neighbors reach down to help one another climb the ladder. We scramble for the top, kicking the hands of those who try to grasp the rungs below us. From the streets of our cities to the twisting pathways of international conflict we have replaced neighborhoods with gang turf. Instead of looking for common ground on which to build a foundation of common understanding we look for a killing ground on which to base a campaign of conquest.
The sun has set on the lovely day in the neighborhood and the dawn will bring a storm’s thunder and lighting.

Goodbye, Mr. Rogers. I did want to be your neighbor.