Fellow Theater Goer (eyebrow slightly raised): "Oh, is it a good Mom and Daughter show?"
Me: "Maybe not for every mom and daughter, but it worked for us."
My daughter: "It was really good."
I should add that my daughter is in the 6th grade.
She really likes Glee, and that show goes to some pretty dark places. From a parenting perspective, "inappropriate" shows give some good opportunities to pause the DVR and discuss. Still, before planning this trip, I desperately wanted some feedback from other parents who had taken their preteens to the show. I wasn't terribly concerned about the blasphemous parts of the show. (Although, to be sure, if you're raising your child with anything but a pluralist take on religion, this becomes a very big concern.) I just wanted some sense of how much of a challenge this was going to be for me as a parent when it came to the non-God related content. Unfortunately, the only article I could find was one from the New York Times. The reporter had been "uninvited" because his kids were... well... my daughter's age. Not exactly encouraging.
I called the theater to make sure I wasn't headed for the same scenario, and was reassured that if I felt she was mature enough to handle it, I wouldn't have any trouble at the door. Once again, I was given a strong warning that this show didn't just have "some adult themes", it was downright shocking.
Still, I'd also seen the interview where Matt Stone describes the show as their attempt to answer the question, "What would an atheist love letter to religion look like?" Good enough for me. Anything that helps me drive home the point that skepticism towards religious truth claims is healthy, but cynicism about the inherent worth, dignity, and intelligence of religious people can destroy what could otherwise be great friendships has some serious value to me as a secular mom. Tickets to premium seating in hand, I reassured her that I was open to talking about anything that didn't make sense to her or bothered her. I let her know I'd pay for the therapy if she didn't feel comfortable talking to me.
I called the theater to make sure I wasn't headed for the same scenario, and was reassured that if I felt she was mature enough to handle it, I wouldn't have any trouble at the door. Once again, I was given a strong warning that this show didn't just have "some adult themes", it was downright shocking.
Still, I'd also seen the interview where Matt Stone describes the show as their attempt to answer the question, "What would an atheist love letter to religion look like?" Good enough for me. Anything that helps me drive home the point that skepticism towards religious truth claims is healthy, but cynicism about the inherent worth, dignity, and intelligence of religious people can destroy what could otherwise be great friendships has some serious value to me as a secular mom. Tickets to premium seating in hand, I reassured her that I was open to talking about anything that didn't make sense to her or bothered her. I let her know I'd pay for the therapy if she didn't feel comfortable talking to me.
If you're not planning to see the show live (tickets can be tough to come by) or you've already seen it, feel free to watch the video below. If you haven't seen it live yet, and want to, wait for it. One of my least favorite parts of doing the research before the show was how difficult it was to avoid spoilers.
You know your kid best. The themes in this show concerning religion include its power to give people strength in the face of truly frightening odds, and the somewhat bittersweet notion that even clearly false beliefs can be used to cause positive change in the world. These go hand in hand with some other obvious truths; you can bend superstitions to say whatever you want them to say, people will embrace the things that speak to their own fears, and this isn't always a positive thing in society. The villain in this show has a superstitious fear of the power of the clitoris, and he has the guns. Enough said.
If conversations about the holocaust, gay marriage, racism, and Jerry Sandusky aren't unfamiliar territory in your home, this shouldn't be too much to handle. Really, how else are you going to get a chance to talk about the ancient practice of Chinese foot binding and relate that to the horrifying practice of female genital mutilation? Children are raped by HIV positive people in Africa, in the hopes that this will cure their condition. Do you want your teenagers completely oblivious to these facts about the human condition? If the answer to that question is yes, for you as a parent, then I'd take a pass. Even though you really do find yourself empathizing with these earnest young missionaries in their clean white shirts who are in way over their heads, you probably wouldn't be terribly comfortable with the discussions afterward. If, on the other hand, you enjoy laughing your ass off and don't mind finding creative ways to approach awkward conversations in a way that works for your teens and pre-teens, then by all means, go. The show is transcendent, and Katy Perry lyrics have much worse moral messages when it comes to sex.
For the record, coming out of the theater, my daughter let me know that she would not be needing therapy, and she sang along to a few of the songs when I popped the CD in on the way home. The worst consequence of taking her was our shared giggling over the fact that we will never, ever, be able to listen to the song "Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog" the same way again. Frogs. Hilarious.
Seriously, just go see it.
If conversations about the holocaust, gay marriage, racism, and Jerry Sandusky aren't unfamiliar territory in your home, this shouldn't be too much to handle. Really, how else are you going to get a chance to talk about the ancient practice of Chinese foot binding and relate that to the horrifying practice of female genital mutilation? Children are raped by HIV positive people in Africa, in the hopes that this will cure their condition. Do you want your teenagers completely oblivious to these facts about the human condition? If the answer to that question is yes, for you as a parent, then I'd take a pass. Even though you really do find yourself empathizing with these earnest young missionaries in their clean white shirts who are in way over their heads, you probably wouldn't be terribly comfortable with the discussions afterward. If, on the other hand, you enjoy laughing your ass off and don't mind finding creative ways to approach awkward conversations in a way that works for your teens and pre-teens, then by all means, go. The show is transcendent, and Katy Perry lyrics have much worse moral messages when it comes to sex.
For the record, coming out of the theater, my daughter let me know that she would not be needing therapy, and she sang along to a few of the songs when I popped the CD in on the way home. The worst consequence of taking her was our shared giggling over the fact that we will never, ever, be able to listen to the song "Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog" the same way again. Frogs. Hilarious.
Seriously, just go see it.
