Barney to Miley: Why Marketing is Scary

Walmart has a new line of clothing splashed with the name of Miley Cyrus. The line appeals to my 6th grader, even though she is thoroughly sick of Hannah Montana.

She used to love Hannah when the show first came on the air. She faithfully watched the Disney show, and we bought her a Disney marketed nightgown and lunch box. But the madness didn't stop there. Soon there were Barbie type dolls with Hannah's face, board games, clothing, accessories, shoes. Everything was Hannah Montana. Even my daughter was sick of it. They had marketed Miley to death.

The Hannah situation is nothing new. I started to catch on to this ploy early in Sabrina's life. I think the first was Elmo.

Sabrina watched Sesame Street when she was just a baby. I thought it was cute that they made a little plastic bowl with Elmo's face on it. Then I bought her an Elmo nightgown. We found a fuzzy red chair with Elmo on it. Soon, my toddler who couldn't even walk through a store could spot Elmo toothpaste from eight aisles away.

"I want that!" she'd cry, her little face lighting up with joy. "Elmo!"

Of course, I bought her the toothpaste. Little did I realize the problem I was buying in to. I've realized now that it never ends.

The parade of characters that have sold me stuff are endless: Elmo, Barney, Blue's Clues, Belle from Beauty and the Beast, Pokemon, even Harry Potter.

When we went to Japan, I was excited to get my daughter away into a different culture. We would be far away from Barney toothpaste and Hannah nightgowns, right? Wrong. Actually, Japan seems to have amped up the marketing craze that we live within in the United States.

My daughter was in her Pokemon stage at the time. I was trying to hold her down from spending too many precious dollars on collector cards and Nintendo games, when our plane landed in Tokyo and then in Okinawa. Even on this remote island in Japan, Pokemon was literally everywhere. The little yellow pocket monster appeared on ramen noodles, soy sauce, packs of dried fish, gum, even on the front of a local nursery school.

"You like me?!" Pikachu practically squealed. "You'll love my stuff!"

Maybe it is a part of being a kid today that our love for childhood characters is linked to products like cereal and toothpaste. But it's kind of a shame.

It seems to take away the magic and imaginary play of characters like Winnie the Pooh and Anne of Greene Gables when you slap their beaming image on a polyester nightgown.

It makes it seem like a popularity contest - the character with the most stuff wins. It encourages buying and accumulating and materialism - all of the nasty habits that we, as adults, try NOT to pass on to our kids. And it starts so young!

I don't really know a way around it. Maybe if we could ban our children from stores until they reach the age of 13? Or maybe it's just a matter of trying to keep our own indulgence of their desires under control. We live in a buying, purchasing, marketing world. It is easy to get absorbed into it, and to teach the habit to our kids.

Tough time to be a parent...

Mary McLeod Bethune: She Has Given Her Best

I first heard about Mary McLeod Bethune when I was a student at Moody Bible Institute. She was an early graduate of my college - and an African American woman. I knew she had gone on to become one of the greatest women in our country. She was so well known that she earned the status of being featured on our postage stamps. But I didn't really know much about her. As I researched Mary McLeod Bethune for my book, When Others Shuddered: Eight Women Who Refused to Give Up . I learned a bit more about her remarkable life: She was the 15th of 17 children, born to former slaves. From an early age, she hungered for education. She graduated from Moody Bible Institute with a desire for missionary service to Africa - an opportunity she was denied because of her race. Undeterred, she started a school for African American girls in Daytona Beach, Florida, that went on to become Bethune Cookman University. She was asked to work with Franklin D. Roosevelt and led many African Am

Pacific Garden Mission: A Bed, A Meal and the Bright Light of Hope

In 1877, a woman named Sarah Dunn Clarke and her newly-wedded husband George started a rescue mission on Chicago’s south side. They were wealthy, but their hearts were broken by the men and women who struggled to survive on the city’s streets. The Pacific Garden Mission is the 2 nd oldest operating rescue mission in the United States. Now located on 14 th St and Canal – just south of Chicago’s loop – they offer shelter to as many as a thousand men and women on any given night. As part of my book research to understand how the work of Sarah Clarke continues today, I visited the mission with my friend Dawn Pulgine. Entering through the side, we felt a bit out of our element. Men, black and white, old and young, clustered near the doorway. Some carried bags of personal belongings. Others were working the desk and security. It was mid-day at the Mission. We were given a tour by one of the “program men” – residents who choose to stay and live at the

Your Roots Are Showing

I'm older. I know that. But, honestly, I still feel pretty young. Well, most days at least Today I received a not-requested senior discount at Einstein Bagels. It appeared as a $1.03 credit on my receipt, along with the cheery explanation. And if other people don't tell me I'm older, my body definitely does. I traveled to and from Chicago last week with my daughter and her friend. Being the self sufficient woman I am, I helped the girls boost their luggage into the airline's overhead bin. Later that day, I felt my mistake. My back has not been happy ever since. I've been putting those sticky heat patches on it, Ben Gay rub, ice, heat wraps, you name it. And still when I turn incorrectly . . . ouch. There are other signs too. I wear glasses now . . . all the time. It started with readers, and then progressed to progressives. And I HAVE to color my hair now. Those pesky roots keep reappearing in an ever-shinier shade of silver. I (briefly) considered embr

Jamie Janosz

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