Censorship, kindergarten style

One of my kids' favorite TV shows (and probably my absolute favorite one) is Kipper the Dog, by British author Mick Inkpen. It's educational in many ways, without being preachy. The characters illustrate well the value of friendship, display tenderness and understanding towards each other and their surroundings, are inquisitive, adventurous, and imaginative. The pace is perfect, far from the hyper, behaviorist jumpiness of Dora, or the boring narrative of Caillou. (Incidentally, even though Inkpen's characters are talking dogs, pigs, and mice, they have certainly more human character than Caillou's parents. While grown-ups in Caillou sound like they are always on a high dose of sedatives, the characters in Kipper are allowed to lose their patience, getting frustrated every now and then.)

But, as a linguist raising a family in a foreign country (foreign to me, not them, of course), maybe what I like most in Kipper is the opportunity it provides to expose kids to a different linguistic repertoire. Growing up in a rather multilingual environment, in a family that mixes, on a daily basis, Portuguese, English, Spanish, and Gujarati, my daughters have been always aware of linguistic differences. Rather than simply experiencing linguistic diversity, they actually enjoy it. At two, Uma, my first daughter, already knew that dudu (a Gujarati baby-talk form for 'milk') shouldn't be used with the "English" kids. At three, she already made up linguistic jokes ('How do you say "envelope" in Spanish?" -- "Enve Lopez"). Roma, who'll be three next month, repeats with delight the lines of the show, pronouncing words such as "basket" with a British accent.

So, when Pig, a character in Kipper, used the word "stupid" in one of the show's episodes ("The Lost Mug"), it wasn't hard to explain to them that it probably wasn't such a bad word there, in England, although it would be better to avoid it here, in the US -- a nice opportunity to teach a little lesson on dialectal diversity (and even a little geography). Other parents, however, apparently didn't think of it as a didactic opportunity or an exercise in tolerance. PBS Sprout now airs a slightly altered version of the episode, in which the "bad" word is simply erased. (Copies of the episode at our local library, however, still preserve the old version, for those curious enough to compare.)

PS. I just found the raw, uncensored episode on YouTube. Check it out.