Wanted secular miracle worker
USA Today (Society for the Advancement of Education), Sept, 2005 by Dolores Puterbaugh
If the catharsis leads to internal self-examination and the resolve to develop the self-discipline to make and maintain appropriate changes, it may be useful, provided it does not frighten the kids. It seems doubtful that parents whose sell-worth has been partially sated by being their children's "friends" suddenly will evolve into adults with a mature self-respect who accept the passing anger and even the verbalized hatred of youngsters as one of the lesser costs of parenting.
Schadenfreude is one of those delicious but untranslatable terms. It is German for a kind of malicious glee over the misfortunes of others. While it lately has become a trendy term, it originally was limited to a particular kind of envy rather than the more generic, superiority-infused attitude it implies in most American usage. It is envy satisfied by others' misfortune rather than overcome by rigorous self-improvement. The Pharisees no doubt are unfairly stereotyped by the parable of the boasting prayer, "I give You thanks I am not like one of these...." The stereotypic Pharisee, assured of his own superiority, could be detached in his smug stance towards lesser, more damaged beings.
The secular makeover affords the viewing audience double the pleasure: schadenfreude in the humiliation of the videotaped, and simultaneous Pharisaic satisfaction--however ratty our sweatpants or trashy our garage, we are not as pathetic as those people. What adult over 20 wants to see him/herself under brilliant florescent lights, in a round, mirrored room? Who wants someone else deciding which sweater, tool, or collectible is worth keeping? Who among us wishes to offer our face, aged forward by computer technology, with our future skin spots, sags, and wrinkles on display in HDTV splendor, for others' amusement? Yet, the audience is irresistibly drawn to witness this humiliation, amused and assured of superiority.
Thus justified, the viewing audience can watch, glean useful tips, and take them as unnecessary but interesting tidbits rather than the corrections necessary for the makeover subjects. Using darker colors on walls or creating storage under stairs might be useful to us, but it is not as if we really need to make those changes. Those sorry slobs on the television, on the other hand, need all the help they can get.
The nanny as secular miracle worker, in a successful episode of any of the shows featuring this approach, has met all the criteria for a triumphant makeover. She has viewed, with the television audience, the videotaped evidence of the parents' complete ineptitude. She has expressed horror that any child should be so resistant to parental directions. She has arrived, neatly uniformed, at the front porch and swooped in to assess the family's troubles and set things right. Finally, she has been able to force some sort of peak conflict and catharsis with every major character, demonstrated some very effective parenting skills, and then whooshed out. The parents and children express relief and gratitude and any interviewed neighbors or friends are relieved that those kids finally are under control. The audience has been gratified on two counts: self satisfaction and assurance that the secular miracle exists.