I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
August 11, 2008
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Yesterday, a camera crew came to my house.
Now before you get too excited, um, don’t. I never get the sweet TV time other mommybloggers do, although I’ve come this close more than once. One time, I didn’t respond quickly enough to an e-mail asking my stepdaughter and I to appear on The Tyra Show. Another time, I was being pre-interviewed for an appearance on ABC World News, only to be told that my “history in broadcast news was a concern.” Oooookay. So I was a news reporter six years ago. What of it? I would think that would be a bonus, since it would mean I’d probably be comfortable on camera, but perhaps they were worried I’d launch into an impromptu news stand-up once they turned their network camera on me. Not that I’m bitter. No I’m not. Shut up.
This particular camera crew was from my husband’s (and my former) TV station. They showed up to shoot a promotional spot for the morning news, and since my entire family was going to be in it, I couldn’t exactly say no.
I shot a scene, Bruiser shot a scene, my younger stepdaughter shot a scene, and little Punky got to shoot two scenes. She even had a couple of lines. And while I was excited about her television acting debut, I also was nervous about whether she would perform on cue. After all, four-year-olds are about as predictable as, you know, coyotes.
The producer gave Punky her line and told her when to say it. Punky did it right the first and second times they shot it, but then she sort of lost interest in the whole thing. That’s when I stepped in.
“No, Punky, hold up your arms like this when you say it,” I told her. “Look at your sister! Don’t forget!” She looked at me uncomprehendingly. “If you do it right, you’ll get a treat!”
Punky perked right up after that. She tried again and got it right. From then on, each time her attention flagged, I’d step in. “Big smile! Speak louder! Don’t forget that treat!”
Somewhere in the middle of all this, though, I realized that I was turning into one of those women on TV that we all love to mock: the Stage Mom. Standing behind the producer, I found myself elaborately mouthing her lines and doing all of her facial expressions. I was promising her treats like she was a pedigreed lapdog. I was… disgusting, to be honest.
“Maybe this will be Punky’s big break,” Hubs laughed that night as we talked about how the shoot had gone. “Maybe someone will see her and offer her a movie role and we can both retire.” We both chuckled.
“You know, I don’t think I’d want her to do anything like that,” I said.
“Oh come on, if someone offered her $200,000, you would,” he said. “That would pay for college and then some.”
“It would be hard, though,” I said, but the truth was, I didn’t think an acting job would be all that hard for her. It would be hard for me to be a good mother. It would be hard for me to be the kind of mom she needs in her life, as opposed to the kind of mother she grows up hating.
And I wonder if that’s ultimately what makes us cringe when we see child actors and their parents in documentaries and on television reality shows. There’s something very uncomfortable about making money off of your child, and about pushing them, even lovingly and supportively, to perform when so much is on the line. The expectation was hard enough for me to shoulder even while shooting a local promo, free-of-charge. I can’t imagine the pressure I’d feel if an entire film crew’s success was on the line. And now, the thought of child modeling and acting really leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
So when people tell me now that my children should model, I think I’ll just smile and say, “Thanks, but, uh…. Hell to the no.
This post originally appeared on Parents.com.
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