Won't You Be My Neighbor?

One of the great icons in all of television history is Fred Rogers. I didn't know his first name was Fred until I was in college, I think. I just assumed that his whole person centered on being a "Mr." There was a time when televisions only had a limited amount of channels - usually thirteen and then there was that special channel that seemed to only carry kids stuff - PBS. I neither cared about what PBS stood for or why it didn't have an number; I only cared that it carried Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood.

Sesame Street was totally unpredictable; you were always shocked by who the guest of the day would be or what number the Count would be offering for the day. Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, on the other hand, was utterly predictable. The camera zooms through a miniaturized set up of a city and rests on the door of Mr. Rogers' house. The viewer is whisked inside as Fred waltzes through the door, takes off his wonderful cardigan sweater, changes into his house shoes all the while singing a song. At the end of his musical missive, Fred Rogers gazes questioningly into the camera and asks, "Won't you be my neighbor?"

If you are anything like me, it is quite common to talk to the television. Of course I wanted to be his neighbor! Yes! I would shout. Yes, Fred, count me amongst those of your friends and with you, let me ride on that train to the Land of Make Believe! Fred, take me with you!

Mr. Rogers' question is still very important today. Sometimes that query, "Won't you be my neighbor?" can be changed to the question, especially in Christian circles, "Who is my neighbor?"

In my growing up years, the nearest neighbors to us were at least half a mile away. We could ride our bikes or walk to our neighbors - we had an understanding of who they were, what the parents did. By all means we knew the names of roughly all the households in a ten mile radius. That, in essence, is a core value of small town life in rural Iowa.

Thirty years later we ask the same questions: "Who is my neighbor?" and "Won't you be my neighbor if you are not now?" Walking around the streets of my neighborhood, I have yet to meet all of those who share the same street address. When asked, "Who is my neighbor?" I could give you the names of those who share property lines with us, but I don't really know them. I think that has to do in large part to a change in perception of society. In this new culture we don't want neighbors - we want privacy. We don't want relationship or communication - we want to be left alone.

What a sad thing that is, in my mind. In a world longing for care and love we shun closeness. Concerned more for our own "personal time", we lose track of that which makes us human - our relationships. Who is my neighbor?

Just recently, on the way to work, I have been stopping to talk with people during the six block walk. As I approach some houses, I can see people's eyes scrutinizing me - wondering if I am a salesman - wondering if I am going to pressure them into buying something that they neither need nor want but simply want to rid themselves of my presence. After a few words of greeting I assure them of my non-fiscal intentions and we can talk, usually about the weather or forecast for weather or how much rain his cousin's wife's daughter's niece got, but simply talking to each other allows us to be neighbors - to share the same street, to share life under the same trees.

Neighbors are a good thing.

They don't necessarily need to take us to the Land of Make Believe where we pretend all sorts of things.

And so Mr. Rogers, at the end of his show, encourages all young children to tune in again sometime soon and says goodbye to his new neighbors. What a concept.