Here Comes Honey Boo Boo and the TLC Circus

I must admit that I am more than a little anxious to watch tonight's TLC's premiere of "Make Way for Honey Boo Boo." The trailer features the most precocious girl I have ever seen with a wide face, blonde curls, and loud southern drawl. Her sister states for the camera, "We aren't rednecks. We have all our teeth." Every time I see it, I can't help but smile.

But yesterday, on the same channel, I saw another trailer for a show about conjoined twin girls. I hate to admit this, but I was both fascinated and shocked. I didn't know whether to hide my eyes or stare as the two-headed teenage girl(s) interacted with friends. At first I wasn't sure if it was a real show or a joke.

It is real.

The show follows a whole list of other shows, aired on TLC, that seem to satisfy America's curiousity for the obscure, the odd, the spectacle. The concept is not a new one. Following the lead of renowned American circus entrepreneur P.T. Barnum who took human oddities and made them the subject side shows, TLC seems to know that people will tune in to watch shows about unusual people.

We watch shows about little people, shows about hoarders, shows about families with extreme numbers of kids or shows about men with too many wives. We watch them because we are curious, repulsed, and (yes) even fascinated.

While watching one particular "Hoarders" episode, I was struck by the fact that this person's deep psychological problems were being addressed, on camera, to fit in between commercials. The realization made me slightly ashamed, and I turned off the show.

TLC stands for The Learning Channel, but it doesn't seem like there is a lot of learning going on. The shows, from "Toddlers to Tiaras" to "Sister Wives" seem to aim for the sensational - grabbing ratings and making money out of people's difficult and sometimes dysfunctional situations.

Some of the shows seem to be just for fun, but others address serious situations in much the same reality-show format. When compiled together into one glut of attention-seeking programming - the channel seems to reduce individual human stories to a circus sideshow.

I am sure that they propose the shows to their subjects by saying this will give society a better understanding of their unique situations.

But, I'm not sure I'm learning.

I'm just gaping, wide-eyed, in amazement.

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

Search This Blog