Are You Ready to Explore?

Two weeks ago we discussed the potentially harmful effects of excessive television watching and used a particularly popular children’s show, Dora the Explorer, to emphasize the point that it’s OK when I do it. As mentioned, I allow my daughter to watch this program in small increments because the show is educational, it is engaging, and the only thing in the world that could get her to move while watching it is a pack of cookie-flavored puppies.

Criticism of the show abounds, however, and in an effort to be fair, today we will examine some of the more reasonable questions brought up by detractors. For example,

Is Dora the Explorer a witch?

Dora is seven-years old, yet seems to have access to a number of powers that the average seven-year-old does not. For example, she has “Explorer Stars” in her talking backpack that give her special powers: the ability to fly, to super-jump, to generate a spin off cartoon about her cousin. Dora talks to animals. She has a map that not only sings but also adjusts to the episode’s unique predicament; “Does Dora need to get to grandma’s house or go rescue one of her clumsy friends?” Dora herself, I think, eventually turns into a mermaid or something.

While elements of the supernatural certainly do abound in the show, personally I am not concerned that my daughter will grow up believing she can communicate with inanimate objects or magically make friends with everyone she meets. Some of the same people who scoff at children’s shows containing magic have no problem telling their own children that an obese bearded man in a red suit is going to fly onto their roof, climb down their chimney in the middle of winter, and give them toys they don’t deserve as a reward for being “good” all year. And we wonder why children don’t take us seriously.

Secondly, is Dora a Terrorist-Sympathizing Pacifist?

Her main nemesis on the program is Swiper the Fox, a real gem of a foil that makes Wile E. Coyote look like an evil genius. Though sometimes absent entirely, Swiper’s main goal, when he does show up, is to “swipe” something with very little monetary value. Instead of avoiding this idiot or perhaps trapping him to sell his pelt, Dora tackles the problem by putting up her hand like a traffic cop and declares, “Swiper, NO Swiping!” She says this three times and then Swiper, who is, I must reiterate, a damn fox and thus should be able to easily steal anything from anyone on the show, merely laments, “Oh, MAN!” and walks away in defeat.

It’s pathetic.

Some critics believe these laughable encounters give children an unrealistic view of the nature of evil. Some point out that the show might even be suggesting that there are no moral absolutes. Swiper, it turns out, is often merely misunderstood and has even allied himself with Dora on some occasions by episode’s end. How can we as a society, critics argue, continue to fight terrorists if we’re raising a generation of children who believe the bad guys can be disposed of by simply raising their hands and shouting, “Al Queada, NO bombing!”

Continuing, some critics ask, is Dora a Communist?

Children who watch this show, after all, are taught to share and work together to solve problems. Needless to say, critics lament, this will not do. If we share our cookies with our friends, how will they ever learn the value of la galleta? What incentive will children have to go out and get their own cookies from their own grandmothers? Before long, we’d have all sorts of “comrades” wanting cookies for free. Bad idea. And if we work together to solve our problems, how will we know who’s the best problem solver and thus deserves to live in a gated community? No thanks, commie.

Finally, is Dora a little Latina Propogandista? “I don’t want my pre-schooler learning Spanish before they can even speak English” critics declare. “What if they get to kindergarten and accidentally ask to go to el bano and the teacher gets confused and they end up peeing all over el suelo ?” That would be a travesty, certainly, but a highly unlikely one.

The fact is, most children in industrialized countries are taught at least two languages, and while teaching a toddler a second language could plausibly result in some minor vocabulary confusion in the short term, it would not turn them into babbling idiots. Learning to play piano, for example, would not keep someone from also being able to play a horn well, or a percussion instrument, or a violin. These skills would build on one another and lead to greater success in all of them. The same is true for learning more than one language.

Criticism besides, when it comes to Dora the Explorer, as it comes to everything in life, moderation is the key. A preschooler can learn a lot from Dora—how to stand up to bullies, how to get from the Butterfly Garden to the Shy Rainbow, the Spanish word for redundant—but none of this will hold a candle to what they pick up from their parents, for good or bad.

I think what I appreciate the most about Dora is how she spends her day. She explores. She’s got her map, her backpack, her buddy, and she’s off. She’s out the door, facing life’s challenges, rediscovering everyday something we adults often forget: the world can be a pretty cool place.

And speaking of cool places, we went to Kansas City recently and spent some time at a water park. Many of the attractions were too big for little girls, but the kiddie pool more than sufficed. For awhile. Eventually I decided to take her to the lazy river, and at first she wasn’t too keen on the idea and wanted out. But then I reminded her we were exploring; we were looking for Mommy, just like her hero would do. Her eyes got big and she smiled. She settled into her own little toddler adventure and enjoyed the ride.

Perhaps she does watch too much TV.

Is THIS the Right Show?

(Editor’s note: The following is Part One of a two-part analysis of the effects of television watching on the American toddler. It has been divided into two segments with regards to research that suggests that the attention span of most Americans is on the decline, due mostly to excessive television watching. Because this first segment will be enjoyed by many readers on Independence Day, we saw fitting to use a particularly American toddler program to provide thematic anchor for our discussion, Dora the Explorer. Enjoy.)

One thing I miss about my life B.C. (before child) was my naive idealism. Just a couple years ago, a favorite pass time of mine was to go out to some major department store and roll my eyes at all the terrible parenting taking place. I was confident that when the day came, my child would know better than to whine for yet another useless, attic-destined toy, or to sneak that forbidden bag of candy into the shopping cart. I used to be a really, really good parent.

And then I had a kid.

The very first ideal lost to pragmatic reality was the pacifier issue. I had read somewhere or had heard from somebody that pacifiers were just no good. They were bad for the teeth, difficult to get rid of, annoying germ magnets, whatever. Regardless, my baby girl would not have a pacifier.

This lasted about five hours. She was born around five in the morning and I’d given up by ten mostly because I was holding her, she was crying, people were watching, and it worked. The pacifier worked. Now, sixteen months later she’s finally decided to grow some teeth and thus we are in the process of weaning her from the blessed little tool. How’s it going, one might ask. Let’s just say, it’s a process.

Another ideal I at least partially gave up on fairly early was television. The fact is, most American children watch too much television. They do. Volumes of academic research clearly demonstrate that the vast majority of TV is simply bad for developing minds and even the “good” TV—educational programming and the like—is less positive than pediatricians once assumed. After twelve years of teaching, my own unscientific observations point to a very clear evaluation: students who watch the least amount of TV almost always earn higher grades than their couch-potato counterparts. Surely there are other factors involved, but to pretend as though the excessive viewing of violent, sex-saturated, or simply vapid programming has no effect on the developing human mind is ignorant.

Having tooted that horn, then, why am I OK with Dora the Explorer, at least in small, moderately structured increments? Why have we already begun that wonderful descent into marketing bedlam that ties in the child’s favorite cartoon with all sorts of quality merchandise like toys, pajamas and, to add insult to injury, video games?

The answer to that is also very simple. She loves it. Dora the Explorer keeps my daughter engaged, and, particularly important at this stage, it keeps her in one place for fifteen minutes so I can find my socks.

Now, like any good parent, I’ve watched the program with her. Repeatedly. And what I’ve decided is that I’m OK with Dora the Explorer for a few good reasons.

Primarily, Dora talks to my daughter. This is a bit creepy for the uninitiated, but Dora and her talking monkey-pal Boots will stop what they are doing—usually going someplace fun—and ask the viewer a question. Granted, it will generally be an inane question, like, “Can you find the red box?” when the red box is like, right next to the monkey’s face, so it does get kind of annoying. To a toddler, though, I guess that’s a pretty good question. I’m fairly certain Big Bird used to ask us some questions, and look how great we all turned out.

Anyway, the point is, Dora the Explorer interacts with the viewer. The show is not mere passive viewing, which is more than I can say for many of the cartoons we used to watch growing up. For example, did Elmer Fudd ever ask us where Bugs Bunny was hiding? No. He would simply, after a series of unrealistic anecdotes, get shot in the face with his own gun. And we wonder why our emergency rooms get so crowded.

Secondly, Dora teaches children basic fundamentals, such as shapes and colors, along with elementary geographical terms, like mountain, river and forest. These forests often talk, however, but I can live with that as long as they don’t say things I assume a real forest might, such as “Please stop cutting me.”

Finally, Dora is bilingual. Nearly every character on the show, even the loopy grandmother, can speak both English and Spanish quite fluently. Believe it or not, my daughter can already count to three, after skipping numbers one and two, in both English and Spanish. Or maybe she’s saying tree. But you get the idea.

The language issue, however, brings us to the second segment of our Dora the Explorer themed analysis, which we will discuss in two weeks, entitled, “Is Dora the Explorer a Latin American Communist Witch?” Until next time, have a safe and enjoyable summer holiday season.