An Adult in the Room
Jerry Springer, 2011
Photo by David Shankbone
For many people Mister Rogers served as a surrogate parent. He was patient and attentive, poised to talk about your feelings and ready to help you process the terror of being a child. But if for some reason, you weren’t able to internalize the lessons being taught to you by Mister Rogers, then later on in a life you got another chance – a second coming of the parent that you needed. Jerry Springer was that parent. He was essentially Mister Rogers for highly dysfunctional adults whose lives were seemingly coming apart at the seams. If you don’t believe me, go back and check the tape.
Jerry was totally non-judgmental. You got the feeling he would never, ever judge you. To think of sitting down and having a cup of coffee with him now, I’m sure he would listen carefully to what I was going through and assure me that it would all work out in the end.
He was calm and self-contained. Sure, there was chaos happening on his stage, but it was controlled chaos. Steve and the other security personnel never let it get too terribly out of control. Jerry would hang back and wait for things to blow over before asking an insightful question or bringing out the next guest. He never got upset, rarely was he frazzled or caught off guard.
I think Jerry had very healthy boundaries. He was in no rush when the show started. Like Mister Rogers, he’d take his time making an entrance – coming down the stripper pole and shaking hands with a few excited audience members. You got the sense that Jerry knew ‘we may only get so far with these people today’ but however far they got in working through people’s issues seemed to be sufficient. Though he clearly felt empathy for his guests, I don’t believe their problems weighed on him outside of work. He was 100% present while with them, but was able to separate work from his personal life.
He knew the choices these guests had made were completely theirs, and they were the ones who’d have to live with the consequences. He never sugarcoated the severity of their circumstances or tried to co-dependently make excuses for their actions. Though it didn’t bring him some sick joy to foster conflict among the people on his show, he never shied away from it either. They were on the show for a reason – whether it be to confront an adversary or tell a secret they’d been holding onto for years, and so Jerry owed it to them not to blink in the face of truth. He’d state the facts, clearly and succinctly: “Andre says he’s been cheating on his wife with his cousin for three years now, so let’s bring her out – here is Maria!!!”
He was wise enough to know you can’t fix people, but you’ve got to allow them space to come to their own conclusions. He rarely offered advice, but when he did it was simple and powerful: “Denise, even though you’re angry, you shouldn’t be fist fighting with Shannon, because you’re pregnant and think of the health of the baby.”
And when it was all said and done, the time with Jerry seemed to have been just the right amount to say what needed to be said. His “Final Thoughts” at the end of each episode were brief, yet profound, each time ending with the phrase “Until next time folks, take care of yourselves, and each other”, a benediction not so dissimilar to “I’ll be back, when the day is new, and I’ll have more ideas for you, and you’ll have things you’ll want to talk about, I. will. too.”
Jerry passed away from pancreatic cancer this year in April. You never really realize how much someone means to you until they’re gone. In May I watched a bunch of old episodes, reconnecting with the show after not seeing it for twenty years.
As an adult who carries responsibility and deals with messy people, I found his show oddly comforting. Obviously, it’s mostly scripted, but watching him work filled me with tremendous peace. He was like a wise father and tender friend, an adult in the room amongst chaos and turmoil.
During his life, Jerry’s show was called the “worst TV show on television” and “complete, utter trash”. He was widely derided and dismissed, condemned from the pulpit and banned in several markets. Yet if you don’t see more than a little Jesus in Jerry Springer, you’re not really paying attention. As much as Mister Rogers was heralded for his Christ-like demeanor, Jerry was no less what I imagine Jesus to be. Fred Rogers cared for vulnerable kids, but Jerry was a friend to the whore, a guide to the tax collector, and he dined with sinful men.
Don’t let the vulgarity of his show fool you. The stage of the Jerry Springer show – the swearing, the fighting, the nudity, the heartbreak – this is what the insides of our souls look like when outwardly displayed. His show was a mirror, revealing our reflection and the condition of our hearts. He saw our divisiveness, he saw that we were at war with ourselves, and loved us all the same.
Until next time, take care of yourselves and each other. Rest in peace Jerry.