TV has shaped my life more than I probably care to admit. Throughout my adolescence, the answer to the question “What do you want to be when you grow up?” was primarily informed by what TV show I was watching (Suits, Alias, Scandal, etc). But in the years before there were spies and lawyers, there was Sesame Street.
Sesame Street’s emergence onto the national TV circuit in 1969 was actually quite radical
Growing up, one of my favorite characters on Sesame Street was Snuffleupagus. I loved his insightful, gentle demeanor and how it was juxtaposed with his large and shaggy brown frame. Watching Snuffy and the other characters interact with each other and demonstrate care, compassion, and kindness didn’t feel shallow or corny. It felt natural. Like I was being exposed to a world I could aspire to be a part of, or someday create for myself.
As you might have learned in the news this week, Sesame Street is a road that extends far beyond our country’s borders. Over 30 countries
One of the primary victims of the most recent sweeping changes
Ahlan Simsim is an Iraqi version of Sesame Street, and the show has become one of the primary examples used to exemplify USAID’s supposed wastefulness. In justifying the shuttering of the agency White House Press Secretary, Karoline Leavitt, claimed that USAID had spent $20 million dollars on developing the show in Iraq. This is only partially true
My main concern in this discussion is not that Ahlan Simsim or Sesame Workshop’s charitable work inherently proves that USAID is worth the money that it spends. There are many other cases for the organization’s contributions to public health and safety around the world that are, frankly, much stronger. What worries me is how quickly we are writing off producing stories for children as inherently wasteful or not a valid use of our resources. It is deeply concerning to me that the very concept of helping support Sesame Street for children in Iraq is so egregious or laughable that it becomes a talking point to justify the immediate deconstruction of an entire organization.
My first summer at college I spent working as a member of the education team at Thanksgiving Point. As I helped guide kids through science experiments or hold hissing cockroaches in the Butterfly Biosphere—not advertised in the job description—I gained a new appreciation for the importance of protecting childhood. Shouldn’t we all, but especially children, have the space to explore and preserve childlike wonder and curiosity? I firmly believe that Sesame Street can help offer that, especially when it is tailored to corners of the world where those spaces are harder to come by.
As I prepare to graduate into an uncertain future and look at the world around me, I realize that Sesame Street is probably more relevant to me now than perhaps it ever was. It is frankly ironic that the values it teaches us—kindness, patience, and forgiveness—are seen as principles primarily for children, when in reality, they only become more complex and hard to master as adults. I’m not saying that Elmo has all the answers, but if we hope to truly become a better country, then we have to become more comfortable with the fact that a perpetually three and a half year old muppet might have something valuable to share. Financially supporting stories and platforms that give voice to these values is not wasteful, it is exactly where I want my tax dollars to go. As we carry the lessons of these stories with us, then just maybe we might be lucky enough to find our way back to Sesame Street.