Star Wars

In 1977, my girlfriend and I viewed a midnight showing of a sci-fi movie called Star Wars. We had heard nothing about it prior to entering the theater -- the attraction had been the show time. I saw the next two sequels, then lost interest, but obviously the rest of the world did not. 

Of course, the franchise today has taken over the world. Even two-year-olds wear the t-shirts to school. They all know what is meant by terms like "light saber," "Darth Vader," and "R2D2," and as the kids get older, there is a great deal of cache in knowing the more esoteric trivia. There are preschool Star Wars experts just as there are preschool dinosaur experts.

I have some reservations about showing these violent action movies to preschoolers, although in fairness, most of the kids I teach have received their Star Wars education second-hand, through brand marketing and their dramatic play with the few kids who have indeed watched one or more of the films. It's impossible to escape in much the way it's impossible to escape at least some knowledge of the latest Disney princess.

This is the world we live in and the children are not idiots. Star Wars is clearly important, not just to preschoolers but to the rest of society. It's not a fad: fads don't last 40 years. No, this is by now an important piece of culture, if not art, one that has become so ingrained in or society that the children have decided they must approach it like a course of study. At any given moment on our playground, there are light sabers being wielded, for instance. There is one kindergarten boy who spends most of his time outside using a stick pony to practice his slow motion fencing moves, sometimes with others, but often all alone with his imaginary opponents. There are long, intense debates among the children about the "light side" versus the "dark side," who is related to whom, and whether or not a storm trooper can be defeated with this or that particular weapon. It's obviously more important for boys to learn these things (because even the robots in the movie are "boys"), but girls are making a study of it as well, more often as critics than as participants, although there is some of that as well.

I know there are some schools that ban Star Wars play (indeed, all play that involves weapons or fighting), but I hardly think that's wise. I mean, we're talking about culturally significant art here, something that surpasses even Harry Potter, if only because it has been with us long enough that many of its biggest fans are parents of these children. I am not saying that Star Wars is great art any more than I would say that the music of Miley Cyrus is great art, but it is undoubtedly art of such power that banning it only pushes it underground with the rest of the forbidden fruit.

I cannot stop the children from playing Star Wars even if I wanted to and I don't. It doesn't inspire me, but it certainly inspires a large swath of my fellow citizens and that's why we will play Star Wars at preschool: not because it's what I want to teach, but because that's what the children want to learn. That's what child-led education is all about.

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