Long gone are the days of America’s Funniest Home Videos hosted by Full House’s Bob Saget, but I most certainly still remember them, and if you were raised before the the era of YouTube, surely you remember the show as well. We were in essence viewing the humor and entertainment that since made video streaming such a brilliant success. Short clips not meriting our attention span for very long before receiving the visual punch line. Whether a collection of backyard bike collisions put to some obscure 90s tune that made you cringe yet somehow appealed to your visual senses, or a baby playing with a puppy that pulled all the right heart strings, we were well poised for the instantaneous lure of 30 second entertainment that led to our extreme obsession with all things video and viral. From time to time Mr. Saget might pose a few questions to the video contributors who found themselves right there in the live audience. And not uncommonly we would find that the video of a young boy causing hearty roars of laughter is now twenty-two years old. Instant entertainment did not necessarily come as a means of instant availability. There were home videos tucked away for a decade or two before emerging into the spotlight. And I am sure that every child, even if only just once, suggested to Dad a home video that was just too hysterical to not submit to Mr. Bob Saget.
Well, no historical retelling needed here. Our fascination with home videos was tapped into, and all the more improved upon when combined with the music videos of our favorite recording artists. We were caught, as though willingly, into the softened cast net as a simple, deep bait fish. We knew little how to draw parameters for our children because the allure was so new, yet perhaps most detrimental of all, we knew little how to draw parameters for ourselves.
Every moment was a potential childhood dream readily brought to fruition with a simple record and upload. That plea made to Dad to submit a VHS recording to America’s Funniest Home Videos could now be taken into your own hands, and you didn’t even need to use the post office. Not to mention that surely Your children would love YOU for it.
We had no idea the implications of the viral video effect, and honestly were not very concerned that there was such a thing. And although now we can see the ramifications our addiction to instantly gratifying entertainment has on our ever conflicted culture, we still do very little to see where the potential for problem originates, and perhaps even less still for the children who are subject to its ravenous appetite.
A home video, much like those harkening back to the AFV days, was placed in my line of sight only recently. The subject, a young boy of perhaps the age of three standing solemnly in his underwear, covered in blue marker, his two cohorts standing most wide-eyed on either side with a few streaks of the same blue color on their arms and forehead to confirm they were indeed equal suspects in the whole ordeal.
“We just wanted to be bad guys” was the pitiful reasoning expressed through tears for this little culprits body art. Just like a parent trying to reprimand their toddler whilst constraining an outburst of laughter, we found ourselves freely humored by the pleading expressions of this little guy without the need to withhold a laugh. He continued in an innocent state of guilt, accentuated by an adorable southern accent, and wildly amusing to us for the two minutes it lasted. At which point we were free to click or carry on, but no matter, the nameless boy was a cheery piece of our day before returning to whatever mundane tasks might continue on before us.
Although if we could leave our entertained satisfactions for just a moment, we will perhaps find what just took place requires a turn away from our amusement and more towards our tenderness.
As soon as this viral moment is captured you see the remorse in this young boy’s face. He whole-heartedly shares his reason for choosing skin over paper, yet not as an excuse for his or his accomplices behavior, but as though instead to merely provide his motive as it might lend to the telling of the story. He expresses an anxiousness that his mom, to whom he is speaking, is angry with him and wonders if Dad will be angry as well. And although a time may come, like that of many other children, where making a parent angry is indeed the intention, such was obviously not the case for this little guy. He begins to bring justice on his own head by solemnly expressing what has been made a trained thought after such an offense; that he should think about what he’s done. Meanwhile giving desperate solace to the fact that a bath will surely take that marker right off, since his mom did indeed pose the question “Will thinking about what you’ve done take that marker off your chest?” Her question was of course brought back to meriting a simple answer, as sarcasm has not yet had the chance to set in. His remorse is solidified, and any attempts of affirmation sidestepped, for the mom had more than one focus. Although she heard her sons words, while self-admittedly stifling giggles, she could not give credence to them fully, for the innocent vulnerability was just too precious to keep inside four walls, and she perhaps thought that to not film would be to miss out on a really good share. Indeed, she was right, even if her only intent was to pass along to family and friends, for the moment made itself to YouTube,159,227 views and counting.
You may find yourself in stark objection to my unnecessary twist on what others are enjoying so readily. My words coming dangerously close to unwarranted criticism and my case a desperate grab to pull some deeper insight out of a lighthearted view into the life of toddlerhood. Or rather, filmed insight into a parents view where there are toddlers present.
Because to view from the perspective of the toddler would bring us to a different space of humanity entirely, and not one at all of humor.
Though please bear with me, if only to momentarily lend yourself to humoring my overthinking observation, for you may find a small morsel of truth that makes a minor adjustment to your lens. Although it’s important to note that my analysis of the example in view has only come about because of other similar moments of teary-eyed children that I have seen displayed, and none of them accompanied by the cute factor that our little man so innocently exhibits.
Lifestyling blogging. The last two decades have seen this form of transparency and self promotion come to life. And with social media sites obviously making their communal footprint, blogging, still well intact, was able to compound upon itself with the accompaniment of photographs, glimpse-giving captions, but even greater still, video. All at once you could do more than just read someone’s personality, daily pursuits, and life ambitions. You could experience them in a way that we perhaps long to see a faded photograph of our great great grandparents come to life. May our great great grandchildren thank us for such a privilege.
Of course there comes an inherent responsibility with portraying ourselves in the most intimate way possible without the pleasure of actually knowing one another.
Authenticity.
We don’t want to experience someone solely in their most content, well composed moments. To be believable – to be relatable – we need to see their raw emotions and know (because we don’t actually know each other well at all) that they experience the same struggles, the same fears, the same challenges. So we accompany our beautiful photographs with stories. Filmed stories that open wide the door to our homes, and though our profiles are selectively picturesque, from the content to the color palette, our stories are a window into the everyday. We share when we are in the throws of discouragement, our eyes even reddened by salty dismay. We bring into view the mess on the kitchen table or toys thrown about and are happy to share that which looks a significant contrast to those hand-selected images that rest on our walls permanently. We take solace in one another’s heartache, and rightly so, for to do so is to share in one another’s humanness.
Then enter our children. Except with one notable adaptation required. They must share their tears not for the benefit of their own fragility, but for the telling of ours. Where the only person left without laughter or comfort is the person in the center of the [camera] ring; The objects of our affection and yet also made the subjects of our empathized humanity.
We are not perceiving what they feel in that moment, but rather how they make us feel, and our considerations hesitate to go further. We do not even wait to relate their tears to others once they have diminished, first putting aside our devices long enough to tend to their discouragement or failure. Rather, we press record (or simply do not hit “stop”) and let their guilt or fit of rolling anger feed the eyes of those not yet present, all as a way to showcase our authenticity.
Parents, we carry the deep, sacred privilege of creating an environment that is safe, steeped in honor, and full of affirmation, even inside of failure. An environment that we want for ourselves, and one we have even longed to gain in our virtual living rooms. Yet we certainly would not go about creating such a space by identifying ourselves as the catalyst for our wariness. We do not share the difficulties of parenting as a way to prompt better parenting. We do not give credence to authenticity by humbling ourselves.
But we will humble our children. All so that we might relish in the comfort of being known without the agony of being wrong.
And eventually they will pull all such posts out of the archives when the account holder can no longer document the reality of the every day, and discover that when their mama shared with the world of her challenges, they were sharing of them. And her friends took solace in the exposed humanity of a tired mom brought on by a tiring child.
Now if we might come back to this sweet mama who truly found more humor than exasperation in her child’s behavior, her video might indeed be one that her son will someday watch as an adult and assuredly chuckle. At which point his anxiousness of disappointment and tears of guilt have long since subsided. He will downplay the authenticity of his three year old self and even find great humor in it. And then perhaps he will turn to social media and look for empathy when he needs it, for we all want to know we are real and that it’s okay.
The fragility of this conversation seems to merit a second post, which I would love to particularly share with Mamas who feel the weight and exhaustion of parenthood. So setting aside the Exposition and Rise for this writing in hopes that I might have some helpful points of reflection for you next week.
DENOUEMENT: “Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him” Psalm 127:3