Street Fight: Mean America and the War on Sesame Street by Michael Davis

The Count can count, Big Bird can teach us our ABCs, and Cookie Monster can make a cookie disappear faster than you can say lunch break. We grew up with these characters, singing along and learning a thing or two without even realizing we were being taught. But behind those familiar faces, there were corporate battles over who controlled the show and what it should become. Apparently, even Sesame Street has its share of office politics.

In Street Fight: Mean America and the War on Sesame Street by Michael Davis takes us behind the scenes to examine the people and decisions that shaped the show from the 1990s onward. Drawing on a wide range of interviews with writers, performers, researchers, musicians and puppet builders, Davis explores disagreements over the show’s creative direction and the push toward a more tightly controlled, toddler-focused approach. It’s a story about more than television. It asks what happens when the people running something start changing the very things that made it special.

For me, the magic of Sesame Street was always the way it mixed education with humour. You could learn your numbers, enjoy a silly song and laugh at a joke without feeling as though somebody was giving you a lesson. I have nothing against research or finding better ways to teach children, but there is a difference between helping kids learn and forgetting that they also need to have fun. You can measure a lot of things in a boardroom, but I’m not sure you can put a number on a child’s delight when something suddenly makes sense.

Take Mr. Snuffleupagus. For years, Big Bird insisted his friend Snuffy was real, while the adults around him refused to believe him. When they finally met Snuffy in 1985, the story carried an important message about listening to children and taking their experiences seriously. It worked because we cared about Big Bird, not because somebody stopped the show to explain the moral. That’s pretty clever television, and it makes you wonder why anyone would want to lose that kind of storytelling.

Here’s what really got me thinking. From the beginning, Sesame Street taught us to accept people who were different, treat others with kindness and make room for everyone. So what happened to the kids who grew up watching it? We live in a world where people can be awfully quick to judge, dismiss or turn against someone who doesn’t see things their way. Did we miss the lesson, or did we simply forget it once we got older? I don’t expect a television show to solve the world’s problems, but you’d think some of those early lessons would have stuck.

Davis also explores the people behind the show and the lasting influence of Jim Henson, who died in 1990. The program has had to evolve, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But there’s a difference between keeping a show fresh and losing sight of what made people love it. The same goes for the message it gave us. It’s one thing to say that everyone deserves respect. It’s another to remember that when you’re annoyed, disagree with somebody or meet a person whose life is nothing like yours.

Take Sir Ian McKellen trying to teach Cookie Monster the meaning of “resist.” Cookie Monster listens carefully, then announces, “Because now me no can resist cookie anymore!” before eating the cookie, just as we knew he would. That’s the joke, and the kids are in on it. They know Cookie Monster isn’t going to resist, and that shared understanding is what makes the moment funny. It’s a little piece of the magic that Sesame Street has always understood: you don’t have to explain everything when the audience is already part of the joke. And that’s what makes me wonder about the changes coming to the show. In trying to make Sesame Street better, are the people running it remembering what made it work in the first place?

Maybe that’s the problem with the rest of us, too. We grew up on Sesame Street learning to accept people who were different, but those lessons don’t count for much if we leave them behind in childhood. Of course, a television show can’t determine how an entire generation will behave. Still, perhaps the question isn’t whether the show taught us the right things, but whether we made the effort to live by them.

If the people running Sesame Street need a reminder of what made the show special, they could always call in Guy Smiley and Lefty the Salesman. Guy can handle the presentation, Lefty can pitch the idea, and Cookie Monster can look after the snacks. Just make sure somebody hides the cookies before the meeting starts.