My Weary Query

I’ve been watching a new show on the Disney Channel called Johnny and the Sprites, a musical mini-series targeted for preschoolers. The show is produced by its star, John Tartaglia, who’s perhaps best known for originating the role of Princeton on Broadway’s Avenue Q, and who’d a long career as a puppeteer for Sesame Street.

Johnny and the Sprites incorporates a lot of songs, many of which are written by Broadway composers; the show occasionally includes Broadway performers as guests, and incorporates show bizish music, dance, and movement to teach children concepts such as teamwork, self-esteem, listening, integrity, compromise, rules, conservation, and overcoming fear and prejudice (to name a few).

The premise for the show is simple: Johnny moves into a home located deep in the woods that he’d inherited from a great uncle. The solitude there, Johnny reckons, will help him write his music. But things aren’t as quiet there as he’d imaged. He meets magical creatures called The Sprites. They agree to show him their world (one that only Johnny can see) if he teaches them about being human. In the process, the characters (and young viewers) learn about socialization, participation, and responsibility within a community.

The show understands the already sophisticated social lives and networks of preschoolers; instead of talking down to children, it shows (not tells) the underlying impetus of the character’s moral and ethical stances; it shows that doing what’s right isn’t so arbitrary as an adult saying “because I told you so“, but is predicated upon living democratically within a community and a shared commitment toward social justice. Decisions concerning issues or problems that arise within the community take other people into consideration, and are mediated through dialogue and relationships. The Sprites seek out guidance from others when they encounter problems and dilemmas—whether it be consulting with Johnny or the ancient Sage, a Sprite who’s so old his body is almost entirely transformed into a Live Oak tree (instead of dying, the Sprites gradually become a part of the earth, so that their body and legacy extend into nature as well as memory). The characters experience the consequences of their actions, good or bad, which have positive or negative effects on the community and its ecosystem; so we see how, for example, a scientific law of motion—every action has an equal and opposite reaction—also applies to social and ecological dynamics.

I find Johnny’s interactions with the Sprites to be the most compelling moments in the show. He listens rather than lectures; he discerns their problems with the liveliest of expressions. He’ll offer advise on how they might proceed in managing a dilemma or solving a problem, but rarely offers definite solutions, interferes, or preaches down to the Sprites. Instead, he proposes potential courses of action that establish an educative experience the Sprites carry out, reflect-on, and interpret. In this way, the Sprites learn from their experiences and mistakes, and from their interactions with Johnny, who provides perspective and feedback that help the Spites link their actions with outcomes and natural consequences.

But Johnny isn’t immune from his own troubles or temptations; there are episodes where the Sprites come to his aid, offering counsel and wisdom. In one episode, Johnny becomes addicted to playing a video game, and gradually looses influence within the community before a Sprite helps him come to back to his senses, and order is restored.

There isn’t a huge power differential between Johnny and the Sprites: they learn from each other; and in the process, children learn about the importance of communication–listening, speaking, getting along, and participating within a community.

Watching Johnny and the Sprites appeals to the kid in me. As an adult, it helps me think more clearly about the enormous power inherent in the interactions between the teacher and the child: sometimes the most innovative and useful curriculum is the one that emerges in the talk between the child and teacher in the moment by moment processes of teaching and learning. It’s here teachers can bridge the needs and interests of the child to the official school curriculum.

In a time with educational policy via NCLB legislation makes teaching and learning so narrow and regressive, the need for teacher facilitated dialogue in the space between the student and the official curriculum seems even more critical; these interactions, modeled so well by Johnny and the Sprites (even without the song and dance), may make teaching and learning a little more meaningful for students, and a lot more satisfying to teachers.