Mister Rogers knew how to talk to kids, in part because the brilliant child psychologist Dr. Margaret McFarland was his mentor. Operating in the shadow of Benjamin Spock during his Pittsburgh tenure and afterwards (and whose work would not age nearly as well), McFarland focused on meaning. She understood that, to a child, a bee is not just a bee. It’s an existential threat. She offered Fred Rogers these insights and a view into the complex interplay of language and feelings, as they’re experienced by children (which she drew partly from her study of mothers’ interactions with their babies). McFarland helped rework most of the scripts for Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood and the results speaks for itself: The show has quietly captivated children for decades. Naturally, those around Fred Rogers credited him with inventing the language he spoke. He didn’t. Neither did McFarland. They learned it, and Rogers became the most prominent American to speak it both publicly and fluently. This language came to be known among the crew at KQED, where Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was filmed, as Freddish. It is, in short, the language of children.
Freddish 101
Like any language, Freddish is not simply a collection of words. Grammar comes with it. Manners, too. It’s easy to think that Mister Rogers cast a spell by speaking simply — and that certainly helped — but it was his clarity and inclusiveness that helped him stand apart. The phrasing was always precise, not clouded by inadvertent negativity or stress. The slow pace, defined by all those pauses, allowed room for kids who were watching to think, to look, and to respond. The Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood staff were so impressed by Rogers’s ability to speak to children that they wrote a translation manual. Written in jest, but extraordinarily accurate, “Let’s Talk About Freddish,” offers nine commandments of communication that collectively serve as a guide to speaking to young children in a way that facilitates understanding and comfort. The precepts, which appear in Maxwell King’s The Good Neighbor: The Life and Work of Fred Rogers, are as follows… The manual is an excellent tool to use when interacting with your child. I might not be able to go through the entire nine-step process or have the time — or, let’s face it, the emotional energy — to speak as thoughtfully as Rogers did. But even keeping in mind one guideline, which is what I’m starting with, makes a difference.
Translating Into Freddish
With most languages, translation is a matter of matching similar words with similar functions. Translating to Freddish, however, is about identifying emotions and relationships as well as words. The goal is to communicate a clear sense of purpose and to provide support while also introducing an idea. The evolution of an adult thought into a Freddish expression would look, in our house, something like this….
How to Listen to Kids Like Fred Rogers
I have a lot to learn when it comes to talking to my daughter: I sound nothing like Number 9. But I have even more to learn about listening — something that Mister Rogers also knew how to do. Watch any episode and you’ll see and hear Rogers leaving quiet space around his words so kids could respond or make observations; making the most of simple, open-ended comments like “Oh,” which allows kids to draw their own conclusions; asking lots and lots of questions, which gives kids a chance to participate in the conversation and feel — incredibly, for a TV show — that the attention is on them. The pacing of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood can make the show difficult to watch. It’s slow. But that slowness is a product of discipline and that discipline pays dividends. Adopting that slowness and communicating with purpose is incredibly difficult, but when I manage the trick, I can see my daughter respond. She stops using her favorite daycare expression — “You stepped on my words” — and starts communicating more directly as she senses that I’m listening and not jumping in. I’ve stopped asking my daughter, “What is it?” when she shows me a drawing. I ask her to tell me about it — and she does. I’m starting to explain more clearly what I ask of her and the reason why. I’m learning to wait while she finds the exact words to explain that her play food is “hair ketchup” that she’s pouring on her head. It can be confusing at times, slow at others, but I understand that it’s my job to sort through what comes out, and Freddish helps. Asking questions helps. Being quiet helps.
