“Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” Mister Rogers’ Return Visit Fills an Urgent Void

by SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”    -Antoine de Saint-Exupery, from The Little Prince

     Minutes before entering the theatre to see the documentary film, “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” I developed a fierce, relentless headache.  Mister Rogers, as Fred Rogers was known to legions of admirers, adults and children alike, was an ordained Presbyterian minister and accomplished musician whose concentration was composition. Devoted to the emotional health and well-being of children, Rogers’ presence became an unlikely television phenomenon from 1968 to 2001.

     The reason for my headache was all too clear: the previous night, I had awakened from a nightmare—terrified children were torn from their parents and placed into cages. The nightmare, which offered no solace from devastating images upon awakening, would have brought torment to Fred Rogers.         

     The brilliant “Neighborhood” rendition, directed and produced by Morgan Neville, brings a vivid, nostalgic, heart-rendering portrait of Fred Rogers, who until experiencing the film, I knew only as one I wanted to be part of the lives of my two young daughters. This was especially important as mistakes in my life placed them in the storm of a protracted divorce process, which meant there were often times when they were torn from me, even when physically ill, as well as times they could not contact me. And I could do nothing about it.   

     To offer comfort, the three of us would sit together each weekday as Mr. Rogers walked into his simple home (and ours), replaced his jacket with a sweater and his outdoor shoes with comfy, quiet sneakers. Keeping on his dignified “you can trust me—I am a reliable grown-up” tie, he would tell all children that each was special and that he liked them just the way they were—that they would be cared for and protected by just being themselves. 

     In strengthening my children, Mr. Rogers also strengthened me, for I experienced his words as telling me that I would be able to find what was necessary to care for them, regardless of what came our way. But there was more. With home spun puppets, Fred Rogers, usually in his own voice, told children that it was okay to have feelings—to be sad, angry, confused, frightened—to have all of the emotions that so many of us were raised to never identify, much less express. And yes, he gave me permission to have and express these feelings, also. In the 1960s, this personal permission involving loved ones and the choices they imposed was revolutionary.

     Morgan Neville’s work shows the impact of an ordained minister whose flock became children everywhere. Rogers is accurately revealed as the visionary who realized that the advent of public television, free from commercials and materialism, held promise of authentic connection with his audience. He knew well that love and the lack of it hold the key to confidence, a capacity to care about others, and to manage life’s slippery slopes. He also knew that the only true love is based on the capacity for self-respect, which then allows mutual respect to be offered to others. 

     A lifelong Republican, what was clear in Fred Rogers’ message was his unwavering belief that the key to societal steadfastness rested with each child recognizing his and her uniqueness and self-worth—a sense of dignity—and that this state of dignity begins with love and develops into resilience.

     Although not emphasized in the film, “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” also holds clues to Rogers’ personal life and development that motivated his passionate undertaking. We meet Mrs. Rogers, Sara Joanne, who uses the name Joanne, as well as others important in his life and work, including two sons, James and John. We learn that the young Fred was overweight, bullied, and ill a great deal.  Further, anger could not be expressed in his home. Even when he was angry as an adult, Fred Rogers used the puppet voice of Daniel Striped Tiger (who represented him—the puppet Queen Sara Saturday was his wife, and Lady Elaine Fairchilde his sister) to express himself. Further, his acceptance of homosexuality came only as he matured.

     Revisiting Fred Rogers’ assurances to children that they would be cared for, in the light of today, brings to mind what is acutely and tragically clear. Countless children are violated in brutal ways by adults who not only rob them of innocence and trust, but also threaten their very lives. Although the documentary does not address this, it does illuminate Fred Rogers’ efforts toward easing the fears resulting from the 1968 assassination of Robert F. Kennedy; the 1986 Challenger tragedy, which brought terror to children as a teacher, Christa McAuliffe, was aboard; and later, the attacks of September 11, 2001.          

     For an ordained minister who gave his life to the concept of loving one’s neighbor, assured children in his/our neighborhood that they would be well cared for, and asked parents to make sure of this, the devastation he experienced by 9/11 was palpable. His wife shared post retirement unhappiness—he stated that he missed his neighborhood playmates. For me, this explanation revealed the nature of a true minister who used the pain he knew so well to do all he could to bring comfort to others, but who felt, although he did all he could, he had somehow failed.  

     Fred Rogers was diagnosed with stomach cancer in 2002 and died at home with his wife by his side the following year. Near death, he asked Joanne Rogers if upon his death he would be seen as a lamb. She assured him that no one could be more worthy. 

     A groundswell of belief in the urgency of Fred Rogers’ devoted work is evidenced by the enormous success of this documentary, as well as excitement about a developing Marielle Heller film based on his life starring Tom Hanks. 

     Social workers are well aware that the denial of respect, safety, and love in the formative years of all children morphs into self-destruction, evil acts, or their combination. Or, as Mister Rogers would say: love or the lack of it predicts everything.

SaraKay Smullens, MSW, LCSW, DCSW, CGP, CFLE, BCD, whose private and pro bono clinical social work practice is in Philadelphia, is a certified group psychotherapist and family life educator. She is a recipient of a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Pennsylvania chapter of NASW, and the 2013 NASW Media Award for Best Article. SaraKay is the author of Whoever Said Life Is Fair, Setting YourSelf Free, and Burnout and Self-Care in Social Work. Her writing has been published in peer-reviewed journals, newspapers, and blogs. SaraKay's professional life continues to be devoted to highlighting destructive societal forces through communication, advocacy, and activism. Read more about her work at SaraKaySmullens.com.