Questions for our Times
Aug 31st, 2008 by daddydaddy
One of the most talked-about and hotly debated topics among parents I know continues to vex even the most thoughtful of the childrearing set. It encompasses lofty decisions about coming-of-age milestones and the nature of the maturation process, and requires extensive consideration of the nuances along the spectrum of violence and enchantment in our culture.
I can’t count the number of times I’ve been asked, but the number of times I’ve debated this question in my own mind vastly exceeds that figure. From the moment our children are born — and in many cases, long before — we have confronted this epic quandary with the rigor of thought and the sensitivity of our best selves. All this in an effort to inspire — not to scar — our progeny. To amaze — not damage — the fruit of our loins.
In the end, we all ask: How old does my kid need to be before we can watch Star Wars together?
A few months ago, I dabbled…
“Just a few scenes,” I said. “Just to see what Luke and Obi Wan look like.”
We caught the jump to light speed with Han Solo, and then a bit of the action that leads up to springing Leia from her cell deep within the bowels of the Death Star. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. But readers of this blog will remember that I’ve made mistakes in this vein before (see installment #1 of the Bad Dad Chronicles a refresher!).
Me: “You guys ok?”
Them: “Yup!”
Me: “Want to take a break?”
Them: “NO!”
And then Vader makes an appearance. He’s just walking down a hallway — no light sabering or telepathic strangling to contend with, just a good healthy march with the troops for exercise — but that music starts: Dah Dah Dah, Dum de Dum, Dum de Dum. DAH DAH DAH, DUM DAH DUM, DUM DAH DUM. DUM DUM DUM, DAH DAH DADADA DUM DUM… you get it, right?
At the first few strains of this new part of soundtrack, Sam stood up and started pointing to his head with his forefingers, dancing around the floor as if he were stepping on coals, backing away from the screen, edging toward the door, and saying: “Ah, Dad? This music is telling my brain that I’m not going to like the next part of the movie.”
I grabbed the remote.
Me: “Ready to turn it off?”
Him: “Uh huh.”
His 4-year-old sister: “NO!”
Kudos to John Williams for his genius score. Amazingly effective. And kudos to my little girl, for her bravery.
And kudos to my boy, who knows when to say when.
Fast forward a few months, and we’re watching the thing from beginning to end with a buddy and his parents. There wasn’t a moment’s angst (though he was not fond of the Sand People).
What changed? Hard to say. Having a peer handy helped. And he’d had months to process. Most importantly, he appeared to know everything that was going to happen before it actually happened, and I realized that this was because I’ve essentially told him the entire tale over dozens of bedtimes. Nothing came as a surprise. We’ve also listened to the soundtrack hundreds of times, which has allowed him to act it all out, without having to face it too soon.
So maybe the answer to the eternal query — when can we watch Star Wars together? — is dependent on the answer to another question: Have I prepared them adequately?
Like any Jedi, you’re only as good as your training.
