Mr. Rogers: The Nature of the Man

Eighteen years ago, when my son was three years old, we sat together comfortably watching Mr. Rogers on TV. At the end of the show, my son turned to me and said, “Mom, I think he knows my name.” I was so moved by his sense that his “friend” on TV knew him personally that I told my family (and anyone else who would listen) about what he’d said.

This event would have been enough to make me love Mr. Rogers forever, but there was more. My sister, Beth Levine, a freelance writer, was assigned to interview Fred Rogers about a book he had written. She called and asked for an interview. He agreed, but only on the condition that she allow him to find out about her as well. So they talked. He told about himself and she talked about an interesting article she was writing about adoption. He had a special interest in the topic because he had an adopted sister. They wrote several letters to each other. Beth eventually wrote to Mr. Rogers about what my son had said about him. She received a wonderful letter back from him in which he said, “How perceptive your 3­year­old nephew is! When he said, `I think he knows my name,’ little did he know that name and nature are the exact same word in Old Testament Hebrew. I’ve spent much of my professional life trying to know the nature of children like your nephew. Please give him a hug for me when you see him.”

Several years later, as a clinical psychologist, I was involved in therapy with a woman suffering from depression. During the time that we worked together, she gave birth to a child. When he was about 18 months old she came to her therapy session and told me about her experience watching Mr. Rogers with her son. Struggling with her own self-esteem, she told me that she felt so much better after watching Mr. Rogers on TV. He would look out from the TV and seem as if he was talking just to her, and he would tell her (and everyone who was watching) how special, unique, and important each individual was. With a laugh she said that she really did feel special then, and that the feeling stayed with her throughout her day.

Now that I teach a course entitled “The Psychology of Early Childhood,” my students and I discuss the impact of educational TV on pre­schoolers. They all know “Sesame Street” and “Blues Clues.” Some groan when I bring up “Mr. Rogers and His Neighborhood,” but they stop moaning when I bring them back to how they actually felt as small children watching the show. When I bring up the slower pace and the personal attention, those students who had been quiet begin piping up about how much they always loved the show. It may not be cool to like Mr. Rogers, but they loved him anyway.

There was magic to the man and that magic was personal connection and appreciation of every individual. From my three-year-old son, to a 30­year­old depressed woman, to 19­year­old college students, to me myself, we were all touched by Mr. Rogers’ nature and we all felt in some way that he knew our name.

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