5 Lessons Mister Rogers Taught Me About Writing and Life

In my hometown area, he was an icon, just short of a deity.

But we worshipped Mister Rogers anyway — that quiet, unassuming man who just oozed love and understanding. When he spoke, it was in a soothing, quiet voice. Amid all the noise of television, it was a voice you couldn’t help but stop and listen to.

He was sneaky, too. He taught you deep truths about life, and you, sitting there watching and listening, didn’t even realize it. You were just drawn to the man in the red sweater who was talking directly to you.

I saw the documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor? last weekend.

I cried. Not sad tears, either. I cried because his love still emanated from the screen. He still touched those tender emotions inside me like I was eight years old again. He was once again alive, and made me feel loved.

And I cried because I realized, 50 years after first seeing him, that Fred Rogers was a guru. He was a guru for children, and for adults who needed someone who understood. He didn’t judge. He didn’t brush you off. He reached right into your being, found that dark thing that was haunting you, and redeemed it in the light of day.

The documentary reveals all that without stating it. Like all things Mister Rogers, the message was in the soft, loving delivery.

I went in already knowing how special Fred Rogers was. My husband, who hadn’t seen a single episode of Mister Rogers Neighborhood, was sniffling. At one point, when Rogers was meeting with Koko the gorilla — a gorilla who was clearly smitten by the man exuding love and gentleness — my husband uttered a soft, broken “Wow…” Fred Rogers had moved him without a single word.

That. That’s a guru.

Gurus teach. They teach forgiveness, service to others, and devotion. Yep. He’s ticked all the boxes.

In fact, I’m sure part of who I am right now is thanks to that man in the zippered cardigan and sneakers, the man who was quietly political (inviting a black man to soak his feet in a kiddie pool with him at a time when African Americans were being thrown out of public pools) and openly accepting.

Here are some of the things Mister Rogers taught me about running a business and living my life:

Be honest.

That includes talking about the stuff that hurts, the stuff that’s uncomfortable, the stuff that’s unpopular. Tell your truth. Do it in a way that harms no one, but don’t hold it in. Hold it up to the light and let it be what it is. Be honest with yourself, too. Who you are, flaws and all, comes from where you’ve been and what you’ve got inside you. You know your quirks and shortcomings — don’t hide from them. Own them. And accept them. Daniel Striped Tiger sang a song about “Maybe I’m a mistake.” We all feel that. How you respond to that is what others will define you by.

Handle anger with grace.

One song he used to sing went like this: “What do you do with the mad that you feel, when you feel so mad you could bite?” If you’ve ever had an unpleasant client interaction, you get it. You want to stomp, shout, fume, curse… (wait — that’s my reaction). Fred Rogers promoted ways to channel that anger into other things. He would play piano and just bang on the keys until eventually the anger subsided. Notice he didn’t say bottle it up and pretend it didn’t exist. He showed us how to vent it. When that client treats your badly, vent it. Just don’t vent it on them. With them, you put on your professional hat.

Keep learning.

“The more you learn, the better feeling you have about yourself and the world we live in.” Confidence in yourself comes from learning about things that are important to you. Specialty writers know the confidence comes from knowing the specialty well. New writers find confidence in learning more about the business of writing. We all learn throughout our lives. If we apply it, we can change things. Otherwise, it’s just empty knowledge.

Be accepting.

“I like you just the way you are” — isn’t that what we all deserve? To be accepted as we are, warts and all? It was how he ended every episode, as he put that blazer back on, hung the cardigan up in the closet, and tied his dress shoes before walking out that door. Accept others — clients, writers, friends, family — just as they are. Their quirks may get under your skin, but remember that it’s your reaction to their quirks that’s the issue. You can change that. You can’t change who someone else is.

Find your bliss.

“Let’s make the most of this beautiful day…” Each day is a gift. Every day I can sit at this computer and do what I love doing is a gift. It’s hard work — Mister Rogers never expected any of us to shy away from hard work. One of the quotes that stuck with me was this one: “I hope you’re proud of yourself for the times you’ve said ‘yes,’ when all it meant was extra work for you and was seemingly helpful only to someone else.” Service to others is a message gurus send to their followers. If you serve people with your whole being, putting your best effort into it, even if they don’t like the result, you’ll know you did your best. You’ll fix it. Even if they still don’t like it, you can walk away knowing what you did was done with intention and focus.

What life lessons have you learned from Mister Rogers?