As I get ready to spend a day off with friends and family, I wonder about how we are teaching our kids more than what are we teaching our kids. Last weekend I saw, Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, the Fred Rogers documentary. I am a big fan of Fred Rogers. I loved his show as a child and appreciate it even more as an adult.

Mr. Rogers was a radical pioneer in the field of children’s programming. By listening and never losing touch with his own inner child, he taught children of my generation by staying on our level in order to ensure understanding. He helped us make sense of issues like war, assassination, grief, anger and discrimination. He knew we sought to feel loved and cared for in this big scary world.

He did all of this without name calling, insults, blame or giving a bleeped out speech on an awards show. I’ve never heard of him “unfriending” anyone. He led by example. He stood up for what he believed in. He modeled compassion, humor and dignity on a daily basis and created a legacy of good will and lasting lessons spanning beyond his 34 years in television.

His medium was storytelling, make believe, puppets, grown ups who were safe to be around, trains and music. He created the characters, performed all their voices, wrote all the songs, scripted the dialogue and acted as puppeteer behind the scenes. In front of the camera, he was that loving, gentle grown up so many youngsters needed in their homes. He was also a tireless advocate for children and creating an environment in which each child could thrive.

I believe in the premise of public and educational television yet feel we are missing the boat in many ways. Yes, some shows are a product of their time but the idea of a teaching story is the same no matter the era.

“What do you do with the mad that you feel?”, Mr. Rogers sang.

Where are the role models who show constructive ways to manage anger, depression, loss and loneliness in a time when our kids are killing each other? I don’t see them in our superheroes. I don’t see them in our action movies marketed to kids or our video games. I don’t see them in the majority of our celebrities.

Sadly, Mr. Rogers has his trolls. It was bound to happen. He’s just too popular even years after his death. Such is the power of legacy, something we need to consider more as we go about our daily lives. To the trolls, I say, “I loved your movie!” Trolls! Get it! Loved that movie! Then again, I love musicals so what do you expect.

I have a group of friends I collaborate with on arts and business projects outside of work. We organize events for the community to build understanding and provide a safe space for all to explore the diversity of our neighborhood through the arts. We don’t get paid. We don’t sell anything. What I have come to realize over time is that our mission is to hold sacred space for creative expression and provide an avenue to imagination. That is our legacy.

Dear Readers, I ask you this week to consider your legacy. What do you want your legacy to be? It doesn’t need to be global.  Making a difference in your hometown is in many ways more impactful for future generations. It doesn’t mean you’ll be remembered for it like Mr. Rogers. Does that really matter? Think about it? How are you engaging with your neighborhood? Are you?

Does anyone want to be my neighbor?