Sesame Street – Bitch Flicks

Children’s Television: The Roundup

Check out all of the posts for our Children’s Television Theme Week here.

The Feminism of Sailor Moon by Myrna Waldron

This has been a post I’ve been meaning to write for a long time. I’m an absolutely die-hard fan of Sailor Moon, and part of that is because it served as my childhood introduction to feminism. That might be a little bit hard to believe, considering the superheroines of the show are known for outfits not much more revealing than Wonder Woman’s. Silly outfits aside (you get used to them), this show was absolutely groundbreaking. Its protagonists are 10 realistically flawed, individual and talented teenage girls (and women) who, oh, you know. Save the world.

Why Jessie is the Worst Show on Disney Channel by Katherine Filaseta

For those who don’t know, this is a Disney Channel series about a girl from Texas who moves to New York City and becomes nanny for a Brangelina couple with four adopted children from around the world. If done well, it could allow for very educational programming for children about diversity and identity. Spoiler alert: it hasn’t been done well. It’s been done terribly.

Was Jem and the Holograms a Good Show for Little Girls? by Amanda Rodriguez

Though the show’s focus on romantic love, fashion, and female rivalry are of dubious value, there are definitely a lot of good things going on with Jem & the Holograms: the notion that fame and fortune should be used for philanthropic means, that female friendships can be strong and form an important network of support, and that a sense of community is crucial.

She-Ra: Kinda, Sorta Accidentally Feministy by Amanda Rodriguez

She-Ra: Princess of Power represents a network of powerful women who not only like each other, but they support each other, organize a rebellion against an oppressive patriarchal regime, and get shit done. The example this powerful group of women set for impressionable girls like myself is tremendous.

Why I Love Adventure Time by Myrna Waldron

Adventure Time is a Cartoon Network animated series that combines surrealistic comedy, fantasy and science-fiction. Based on a 2008 short by Pendleton Ward that went viral, it parodies the tropes, archetypes and cliches of fairy tales, video games and childhood action figure battles. The basic premise is about Finn, the last remaining human, and his best friend/adoptive brother Jake (a shape-shifting dog), going on your typical slay-the-monster-save-the-princess adventures. Now in its fourth season, it’s an enormous hit with all genders and age groups and shows no signs of slowing down. And let me tell you, as a feminist, why I am absolutely celebrating this show.

Anne of Green Gables: 20th Century Girl by Ren Jender

What makes good television programming “for children” is elusive. No demographic is unanimous in its tastes, but children differ from one another more than other groups: what fascinates a 4-year-old can bore an 11-year-old and vice versa. Add to this problem that most critics and programming creators are not children themselves, and we can see why most children’s programming is so terrible: because it, even more than other types of art, is based on, to quote Jane Wagner “a collective hunch.” Still, like a Supreme Court justice famously said about pornography, most of us, even those of us who don’t have children, can recognize excellent children’s programming when we see it, like the 80s made-for-television Anne of Green Gables, based on the book by Lucy Maud Montgomery.

Hey Arnold! A Bold Children’s Show by Nia McRae

Hey Arnold! taught life lessons without the viewer realizing it. An episode called “Stoop Kid” taught kids about the benefits of getting out of their comfort zone. The episode “Chocolate Boy” humorously analogized drug addiction. Arnold’s closeness with Gerald alongside Helga’s rapport with Phoebe highlighted the importance of friendship. The wrongness of first impressions was a reoccurring lesson; a dumb character would have moments of wisdom or a snobby character would have moments of vulnerability or a seemingly lucky rich kid would be shown as unhappy and/or overstressed. My favorite example of this message is in the episode “Ms. Perfect”, which introduced the character of Lila. Her popularity caused female students to envy her at first. But once they learned about Lila’s troubled life, the girls apologized and accepted her.

Gravity Falls: Manliness, Silliness, and a Whole Lot of Awesome by Max Thornton

Figuring out who you are in the face of societal pressures that buffet you every which way is the trial of growing up, and helping people to do that is one of feminism’s goals. It’s also at the heart of Gravity Falls, which helps cement this for me as an exciting show.

Celebrating Sesame Street by Leigh Kolb

Adventure Time – Why Lumpy Space Princess is Important by Gaayathri Nair

LSP’s character design can barely be called feminine in the ways that we as a society code things feminine. This is especially true if you compare her to other female characters on Adventure Time such as Flame Princess and Princess Bubblegum. Her gender markers are the fact that her name is Lumpy Space Princess, the fact that she is pink, and that her speech takes on the patterns and vernacular of a valley girl although her actual voice is low and not immediately parse-able as feminine. The other main gender marker of LSP is the fact that she is into traditionally feminine things such as shopping and make up.

Steven Universe: A Superhero Team We Can Believe In by Megan Wright

Steven Universe embraces non-traditional families. Steven is a perfectly happy kid, who is raised by three women who love him. The Gems are wonderful guardians for Steven, acting as mothers, sisters, and leaders to him. Even though the Gems and Steven don’t always see eye to eye, they always try to step beyond their comfort zones for one another. The Gems may not understand the concept of video games, but if Steven wants to go to an arcade, then they’ll go. If Steven wants to throw them several birthdays for the thousands of ones they haven’t celebrated, they’ll let him dress like a clown and play party games with them, because even though they don’t understand it, it clearly means a lot to Steven.

Friendship Is More Than Magic: Feminism and Relationships in Puella Magi Madoka Magica by Kathryn Diaz

Imagine a world where young girls are trapped in a system that sees them as commodities. Imagine that any girl could be tricked into giving herself up to a life that is by all appearances filled with magic, beauty, excitement, and good, but exists to feed off the energy of their spirit. The girls are purposely pushed to their limits. When they have become too cynical or burdened, the system condemns them and sends in younger counterparts to pick them off. Imagine that these girls are pitted against each other, that once they have been lured in with heroic, fairy tale trappings, they are encouraged to turn around and use the power that they should be grateful for to use and destroy each other. At the top of this system sits a small white creature. He just can’t understand why girls get so upset when they learn the facts of life they signed up for.

…..That wasn’t very hard to imagine after all, was it?

The Magic Garden: Female Leaders In Children’s Television by Hayley Krischer

With their soft voices and pigtails Paula and Carole had a purpose: they created a serene little oasis while sitting on swings and singing, calling kids to “come and see our garden grow.” In The Magic Garden, there was a garden of make-believe where the “magic tree grows lollypop sticks.” Paula picked on her guitar and Carole encouraged you to stamp your feet or clap your hands on the “pop” during “Pop Goes the Weasel” without sounding like a droning fire alarm. Watching an episode of The Magic Garden was like going to a music class—the women pushed kids to sing faster and faster with the speed of the music, harmonizing and smiling, their easy melody a break of sorts to all of the outside noise.

Better Than Two: Female Power Trios in Children’s TV by Emanuela Betti

Power Trios in children’s TV, like duos, are still composed of oversimplified types and characters, yet they also suggest that femininity is not so black and white. Three character ensembles introduce characters types than are on a greyer scale than the polar-extremes of the Light/Dark Feminine trope. In the case of female Power Trios, the formula consists of three characters that respectively represent beauty, brains, and strength. Characters representing beauty are usually ditzy and childish, but they are also sensitive and the mediators (so if they happen to be “dumb” they’re at least depicted with a good heart); characters representing brains are sometimes the group leaders, but also rational without being distant or cold; finally, characters representing strength are usually impulsive and hot-headed, but their rash tendencies are balanced out with a loyal nature.

The Imaginary World of Mona the Vampire by Elizabeth Kiy

The series chronicled the adventures of Mona Parker, a young girl who enjoys dressing up like a vampire and sees saving her town from monsters as her mission in life. The stories are Buffy-lite: a giant bug substitute teacher, a robot babysitter, doppelgängers, a computer virus with mind-control powers, and new cafeteria cooks who aim to poison the school with salmonella. Though the show often pulls out from Mona’s fantasies to reveal the reality of the situation, Mona’s fights against the forces of darkness, usually end up somehow solving the crime or prank, exposing a conspiracy or locating the lost item anyway.

Exploring Imagination and Feminine Effacement in Cartoon Network’s Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends by Jenny Lapekas

Why examine this offbeat show through a feminist or ethical lens? Because Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends (Craig McCracken, 2004-2009) is wildly inventive and subversive. Its plot, which explains that children’s imaginary friends must eventually go live at Madame Foster’s zany orphanage after he or she has outgrown their friend, insists that a child’s imagination has the power to make something real, whether adults believe it or not. At this home, young children are welcome to come and “adopt” one of the friends who is housed there. In this way, the friends are concepts that are “recycled” in order to accommodate children as they grow up.

Adventure Time vs Regular Show by Amanda Lyons

There is one thing that, for me, gives Adventure Time a bit of an edge over Regular Show, and it’s been compounded after sitting through a two-hour back-to-back marathon of both shows over the weekend. It boils down to this: while both cartoons are awesome, Regular Show is pretty much a bro-zone while Adventure Time has a bit more room for the ladies.

Pepper Ann: Pepper Ann Much Too Cool Not To Be On DVD: A Letter to Disney by Janyce Denise Glasper

Behind black rounded glasses is Pepper Ann–a puffy red haired chick wearing eccentric style complete with black and white sneakers. An overall normal girl living in a normal world. In the town of Hazelnut, this humorous hip nerd lit up our shared television screen over vast bowls of high sugared cereal bowls. Like my sister, tomboy Pepper Ann played video games, adored roller blades, and sports while Pepper Ann’s precocious best friend Nicky loved books and had an indie spirit vibe like me. Wide range of diverse characters included Pepper Ann and Nicky’s other bff Hawaiian Milo, a rotund Swiss boy, typical popular blond chicks, and African American twins. There seemed to be a treat for everyone.

Pokemon: Escapist Fantasy for the Budding Feminist Child by Nia McRae

Should a writer depict a world that mirrors reality and show the problems within it or should s/he depict the ideal world we want to live in? Pokemon leans more to the latter. Pokemon, just like Star Trek, depicts a world that’s egalitarian or at the very least, very close to it. It’s a world where gender, race, and sexual orientation appear to be irrelevant. As a kid, I couldn’t articulate very well why I loved Pokemon so much but now I can. My joy was due to many things in the show; the adventures which encouraged my love of travel, the fun and catchy songs and most notably, the strong presence of dynamic, ambitious, and fun female characters.

Celebrating ‘Sesame Street’

So what does idealistic, feminist children’s television look like? It looks like ‘Sesame Street,’ which over the course of its 45-year run has won more than 120 Emmy Awards. ‘Sesame Street’s frank and honest treatment of race, women’s rights, adoption, breastfeeding, death, childbirth, incarceration, divorce, HIV, health, bilingualism, and poverty throughout the years has added a dimension of social understanding to a show that also deals with teaching children their ABC’s and 123’s.

Written by Leigh Kolb as part of our theme week on Children’s Television.

Until I was in kindergarten, the only channel I ever saw was PBS. For all I knew, it was the only channel that existed. I was an only child on a small farm, and in addition to the woods and barns, Sesame Street was my playground.

The diversity and multiculturalism that the show has prioritized since it debuted in 1969–45 years ago this year–not only exposed me to a world outside of my rural homogeneous upbringing, but it also certainly shaped who I would become.

Sesame Street‘s roots–as progressive, authentic, research-based, educational television for children–transformed the way generations saw television, education, and themselves.

With a background in education and journalism, Joan Ganz Cooney set out in 1967 to study how television could be used to educate children. Seeing a need for education–academic and social–she penned “The Potential Uses of Television in Preschool Education” after traveling the US and interviewing teachers, child psychologists, child development experts, and children’s TV producers. From the study, she created the Children’s Television Workshop to produce a “new kind of children’s program” (one whose format would be influenced by Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In and commercials). She wanted to create a show that “would hold children’s interests, its characters would become their friends, and it would teach.”

Ganz Cooney’s resume and influence have made her an incredible force–she’s a woman whose name we should know. A self-described feminist and idealist, she was one of the first female television executives in America. She was CEO and chair of the Children’s Television Workshop until 1990, and continuously has served on nonprofit boards and worked toward literacy and education advancement for children.

So what does idealistic, feminist children’s television look like? It looks like Sesame Street, which over the course of its 45-year run has won more than 120 Emmy Awards. Sesame Street‘s frank and honest treatment of race, women’s rights, adoption, breastfeeding, death, childbirth, incarceration, divorce, HIV, health, bilingualism, and poverty throughout the years has added a dimension of social understanding to a show that also deals with teaching children their ABC’s and 123’s. A recent study showed that children who watched Sesame Street have GPA’s that are 16 percent higher than those who don’t; perform better in math, English, and science; read books for pleasure more often (and read better in kindergarten); and express “less aggressive attitudes.” Jim Henson’s Muppets and a cavalcade of guest stars over the years have helped make Sesame Street a popular, groundbreaking children’s television show.

Idealistic, feminist children’s television looks pretty good.

In its first year on air, Sesame Street landed three Emmys, a Peabody, and a TIME cover. — In its first year on air, *Sesame Street* landed three Emmys, a Peabody, and a *TIME* cover.

Of course, as a child of the 80s, I’m most familiar with the “classic” Sesame Street format and episodes. Recent years have shown growth with the times–a larger web presence, apps, streaming services, online games, and online activities have given Sesame Street a much larger network to educate and influence young minds. Over the last 45 years, Sesame Street has built an empire with the goal of not just entertaining children, but giving them a broader perspective on life and education.

Here are some highlights:

“Women Can Be”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpjmeyI2pfI”]

Buffy Sainte-Marie (who was a series regular in the late 70s and early 80s) Breastfeeding

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2RwZW2j3-U”]

Roosevelt Franklin’s “The Skin I’m In”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ax2mf9IDvno”]

Nina Simone’s “To Be Young, Gifted and Black”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I-f3PYJT5mU”]

“Goodbye, Mr. Hooper”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gxlj4Tk83xQ”]

“I Love My Hair”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1A-BHkoWV0g”]

Maya Angelou’s “My Name”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GhTK0LM39ZU”]

Gordon’s “If I Had a Kid Like You” (Gordon and Susan would later adopt)

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFzPXurun5M”]

“Change the World”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHOgHPBt8oQ”]

“Feeling Good/Feeling Bad”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgYiJWVf1EY”]

“I Love Every Part of You”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=as0rHfgeuvg”]

Sonia Sotomayor: “Princess is Not a Career”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EHICz5MYxNQ&feature=player_embedded”]

“We All Sing the Same Song”

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYXJlfcfFKU”]

I still am moved by the touching and transformative Sesame Street segments that powerfully show that we are both unique and not alone in this world. We need more of this kind of media for children (and for adults).

___________________________

Leigh Kolb is a composition, literature, and journalism instructor at a community college in rural Missouri.

Miss Piggy Turned Me Gay

Miss Piggy taught me that femininity and glamour are constructs. They are costumes anyone can wear providing you have the right attitude. I was a slightly effeminate little boy who collected My Little Ponies and owned a pair of Jelly sandals. Miss Piggy showed it was okay to be girly, that there was even power in being feminine.

This is a guest post by Maximilian Mosher.

I’m sorry to disappoint you but Bert and Ernie are not gay. They’re not. When Jim Henson and Frank Oz created them for Sesame Street they were intended as a tribute to the grand tradition of mix-matched comic duos—Laurel and Hardy, Abbot and Costello, Felix and Oscar of The Odd Couple. The fact that in the decades since people have come to view them as a gay couple says more about the normalization of homosexuality and the decline of the comic duo than anything intended by the Children’s Television Workshop.

“They’re puppets,” explained Steve Whitmore, who’s performed Ernie since Henson’s death. “They don’t exist below the waist.” But denials have only added fuel to the fire. With a smirk, gay men enjoy “outing” these symbols of childhood with the same relish they used to reserve for “outing” Hollywood actors. With a continued dearth of same-sex role models in popular culture, Bert and Ernie have been enlisted as gay marriage symbols, appearing on placards, buttons, and t-shirts. Men dressed in Bert and Ernie costumes have even been married at gay pride parades. When it came to celebrating the Supreme Court’s ruling on the Defense of Marriage Act last June The New Yorker chose not an image of a flesh and blood couple but an illustration of the two Muppets cuddling.

It’s not just allies who suspect same-sex shenanigans at 123 Sesame Street.

“Bert and Ernie are two grown men sharing a house and a bedroom,” claimed the Reverend Joseph Chambers on his radio show. “They share clothes, eat and cook together and have blatantly effeminate characteristics… If this isn’t meant to represent a homosexual union, I can’t imagine what it’s supposed to represent.”

The Reverend clearly knows nothing of the show or, for that matter, fashion. Ernie has only ever worn horizontal stripes. Bert, being the more practical one, wears vertical, along with a very 1970’s turtleneck. As for being effeminate, Ernie is a disorganized mess while no stylish gay men would allow the caterpillar that stretches across Bert’s forehead to go un-tweezed.

Bert and Ernie sleep in separate beds, are rarely physical with each other, and never say lovey-dovey things. In fact, they seem ready to murder each other most of the time. (“Sounds like a lot of couples I know,” I can hear you saying.)

But everyone has it wrong. Bert and Ernie are meant to teach children they can be friends with people different from themselves. There’s nothing “gay” about them, save for Ernie’s love of bubble baths. If Reverend Chambers is really worried about kids being introduced to queer culture he needs to move past Bert and Ernie. He should condemn an entirely different show and an entirely different Muppet.

It was Miss Piggy who turned me gay.

Despite the celebrity cameos and pop culture spoofs, Sesame Street was always meant for children, but Jim Henson was wary of being seen as a kids’ entertainer. It took years for him to get it on the air but The Muppet Show, which ran from 1976 to 1981, was meant to correct this misconception. Henson sought to prove a show with puppets could have universal appeal.

Like Walt Disney and the creators of the Warner Brothers’ cartoons before them, Henson and his Muppet Workshop forgot to create female characters. (When a girl was needed on Sam and Friends, Henson’s first TV show, he’d throw a blonde wig on Kermit. If only Reverend Chambers had seen that!) There was the odd exception, such as a purple Muppet named Mildred who, with a perm and cat’s eye glasses, resembled a Fraggle librarian. But at the beginning The Muppet Show was an overwhelmingly male affair with male characters performed by male puppeteers. Like a true star Miss Piggy would have to invent herself.

The Muppet performers had used a homely lady-pig puppet in a few TV specials but she lacked a name and distinctive personality. Before the first season of The Muppet Show, Muppet designer Bonnie Erickson replaced the puppet’s beady black eyes with large blue ones and dressed her in a silk dress with lilac gloves. A permanently attached handkerchief was used to conceal the puppet’s arm rod. Paying tribute to Peggy Lee, Erickson named the puppet Miss Piggy Lee, but the “Lee” was swiftly dropped to avoid offending the singer.

Initially Miss Piggy lacked a distinctive voice. Frank Oz and Richard Hunt shared the responsibility of performing her, with the latter giving her a flouncy British accent and a stuffy, Margaret Dumont-ish character. But as Oz gradually took over, Miss Piggy’s personality asserted itself.

During one rehearsal, Henson and Oz were working on a scene in which Piggy slapped Kermit. Oz thought a karate chop was funnier, paired with a dramatic “hiii-yah!”

“Suddenly, that hit crystallized her character for me,” Oz told the New York Times. “The coyness hiding the aggression; the conflict of that love with her desire for a career; her hunger for a glamour image; her tremendous out-and-out ego…” As they say, a star was born.

Befitting a diva who stepped out of the chorus, Miss Piggy soon took over. With practically no other females to compete with (other than the androgynous guitarist Janice, originally designed as a big-lipped tribute to Mick Jagger) Piggy would grow in stature to become the only woman the Muppets needed. Her costumes multiplied. Her production numbers became more elaborate. She peppered her speech with ridiculous bastardizations of French, a habit perhaps inspired by the legendary Hollywood agent Sue Mengers. Miss Piggy thought nothing of throwing herself at male guest stars, or stealing scenes from great beauties like Raquel Welch.

Pigs, despite their documented intelligence, are thought of as dirty, rotund, and as far away from showbiz glamour as possible. But as a little kid I never took Miss Piggy as a joke. I accepted her beauty and elegance sincerely. For me, she was the star she believed herself to be. This was perfect training for my eventual love of drag queens, who also don sequined gowns, feather boas, and demand you take their star personae seriously.

Of course, simmering just below her fuzzy peach surface, Miss Piggy had a well of anger and aggression that busted out in karate chops, punches, and kicks. When she got mad, Frank Oz lowered her voice from its regular high-pitched coo to a low, gruff, streetwise snarl. Being a lady is all well and good, but when the going gets tough, the pig gets rough. A lilac glove can sometimes conceal a fist.

Miss Piggy is a pushy, bullying, manipulative, insecure, egoist. There’s more Diana Ross in her than Peggy Lee. She should be unlikeable.

But she has one trait that humanizes her. She loves Kermit. He’s her Achilles Hoof. Her love for him is pure, passionate, and pathetic. She humiliates herself over and over just to get his attention. As Frank Oz said, quoted in Brian Jay Johnson’s new biography of Jim Henson, “She wants that little green body so badly.” And Kermit, for the most part, brushes her off and ignores her. Loving someone incapable of reciprocating is a tragedy every queer person who’s fallen for a heterosexual can understand.

Miss Piggy eventually snagged Kermit via a surprise wedding at the end of The Muppets Take Manhattan (1984). The ceremony was performed by an actual New York City minister, and in the years since, puppets and performers alike have enjoyed teasing fans about whether the characters are “actually married” or not. Either way, the union of frog and pig and the nullification of their romantic tension brought a symbolic close to the Muppets’ Golden Age.

I love Miss Piggy, but I realize her characteristics as I’ve listed them aren’t exactly those of a role model. With her diva behavior and camp aesthetic, Miss Piggy is a throwback to the closeted gay world before the Stonewall Riots, when queer men worshipped Mae West and a sharp, sardonic tongue was their only weapon. By the time The Muppet Show was at its height, gay men had already moved on to body-building and Donna Summer. Perhaps this is why Pride Parades feature Bert and Ernie and not Miss Piggy. Miss Piggy, with her exaggerated femininity, barely concealed aggression, and pining love of a “straight” man, reminds gays of their past. Bert and Ernie as a committed couple is a more useful symbol for gay activists still fighting for same-sex marriage, even if it is a projection of fans. Puppeteers aren’t the only ones who can pull the strings.

Max Mosher is a freelance writer who has written for the Toronto Standard, WORN Fashion Journal, the Utne Reader, and Hello Mr. magazine. He tweets under @max_mosher_. Despite his best efforts, he’s more Kermit than Miss Piggy.