Toxic Dadulinity

Photo by Pixabay

The television shows Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood and Bluey are extremely problematic and have ignited an epidemic of dad-shaming that places unfair and unrealistic expectations on men.

 

Let’s start with Bluey, an Australian children’s show that follows the lives of two dog sisters – Bluey and Bingo – who live at home with their mom and dad, who are also cartoon dogs. Though on the surface Bluey is a rather sweet and benign show about the misadventures of this loving and warm cartoon dog family, look a little deeper and you will see the malevolent tentacles of a toxic dadulinity at work.

The first red flag is that Bluey’s father does not have a name. He is simply referred to as ‘dad’, which serves to remind viewers that he is merely an extension of the children’s desires and wishes. As it is, they want him to make up games and play imagination with them all day long. Every time we see ‘dad’ in the show, he is either doing housework, playing with the kids, or having a polite interaction with ‘mom’. All the while, we are led to believe he also has time to do remote work from home!

 

Real dads don’t act like that and we need to stop proliferating these unrealistic stereotypes. The truth is no one has that much patience and energy.

When dads get older, their bodies start to change. This is completely natural, they’re not going to be twenty-five forever! They get tired out and sometimes need to sit in their chair and not play with you for a while.

 

In the old days, before video editing and digital touchups, you used to see real dads on TV. Natural dads. Look at the dad on Leave it to Beaver – he sat in his recliner all episode long, reading the newspaper, smoking a pipe, sipping a cognac and yelling at his kids. All the while, he poor wife did all the housework and finances without him so much as lifting a finger. He was reprehensible. And realistic.

 

These are the kinds of authentic representations of fathers we need on TV to get us back to a more healthy and balanced dadulinity.

 

 

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Next, let’s briefly address a show that’s been poisoning the minds of our children and partners since the 1970s – Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood.

Mister Rogers has been called “the dad we all wished we had”. He never raises his voice, he never spaces out in the corner on a Sunday afternoon. Mr. Rogers doesn’t drink beer and he gets along with all his neighbors. His house is immaculately clean and he listens intently to whoever is speaking to him. He seems genuinely curious to know how your day was and comes to each interaction well prepared with something interesting to show you – like a music box or a roller skate. When you ask him “what are we going to do today?” He already knows.

Mr. Rogers always has a planned activity, and it’s not something “boring” like going to the park or playing in the yard. No, no. Actually, he’s arranged for us to visit YoYo Ma in his living room, where he’ll play a private concert. And then tomorrow, we’ll tour a factory where pencil erasers are made.

 

At the end of each episode he sings his famous song, “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.”

Then he leaves, having only parented for 30 minutes that day – a total of 2.5 hours a week (less if you count reruns).

 

But let him stick around a while longer. Let Mr. Rogers come hang out full time. One month. Two months. Half a year. It won’t be long before his ‘more ideas’ turns into ‘no ideas’. That’s when he’ll become a little less chipper, a little less sure of himself. Instead of a private concert he’ll take kids to walk the aisles of Home Depot’s lighting section, with no intention of buying anything, but simply to pass the time. He’ll give them a mountainous pile of cheerios to eat, simply because it’s so time consuming. And that tour of a crayon factory will instead become a convoluted game to make taking the recycling out seem exciting.

He’ll stop making direct eye contact and mutter under his breath, “I don’t know what we’re doing today, why don’t you go play in your room for a while?” His friendly “Hi Neighbor!” will turn to “Oh wow, you’re awake already!?”

 

 

At the Bright DrewTopian Future we recognize that being a dad is hard enough even without the unrealistic and often unconscious expectations that are placed upon men by society. Real dads are not mentally sharp, relationally present, or cohesively dressed, and tv portrayals reinforce an unattainable standard. Therefore, we vehemently oppose the forces that would proliferate toxic dadulinity and affirm the rights of dads everywhere to be their mediocre selves.