To My Mom: Thank You

I just learned that this week marks the thirtieth anniversary of the Power Rangers franchise with the premiere of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers on Fox Kids August 28, 1993. It was a staple for my generation’s childhood. Should any kids ask any adult about Power Rangers, they will experience a release of nostalgia they did not yet know was possible.

I have written numerous articles about movies and shows that have always been special to me, so one should anticipate this to be an article about me memorizing every line to every episode and all the merchandise I owned, right?

Well, that is not the case, here. I did not have Power Rangers in my childhood because my mom thought it was inappropriate because of the violence.

Now the reader must think I’m going to pen an essay unleashing the decades worth of anger I had repressed towards my mom for depriving me of a proper childhood and fitting in with my peers.

The reader is wrong again. As the title of this piece implies: I’m grateful for my mom withholding the franchise from me. There is more to this story. While she prohibited me from watching Power Rangers, she had no problem driving me to the video store (a bygone era) to rent the Indiana Jones movies, which contain fighting Nazis. Not only is there violence, but it opens the door to discussions about the Holocaust! In following my mom’s logic, Indiana Jones ought to be banned in our house.

However, I think there was something more to that. The Indiana Jones franchise is a staple of cinema and American culture. Power Rangers is a kids show with cheap special effects and kooky makeup. I remember hanging out with friends in college who decided to rewatch old episodes. I, having never seen it through the eyes of childhood, could only critique it as an adult, easily dismissing it.

I consider this experience to be special because it comes back to my mom prioritizing exposing my brothers and me to quality entertainment from an early age… even if it was not age appropriate. Not long after that, I was watching Jurassic Park at age six, as I properly understood that it was all pretend, thanks to my mom’s explanations. At the age of ten, I received Ferris Bueller’s Day Off on VHS for Christmas after Mom showed it to me on TV. That spring, she bought the family one of our first DVD’s: Top Gun. That summer, she bought the soundtrack to the musical adaptation of The Producers (which was riddled with social satire that only Mel Brooks can get away with). That fall, we were watching Young Frankenstein. A couple of years later, my mom showed me Rain Man on TV. Eventually she and my dad agreed to show us a HEAVILY CENSORED version of Animal House (don’t worry, my parents knew where to draw the line).

It’s safe to say that my introduction to quality entertainment came from none other than my mom. Most people do not begin to appreciate the classics until they get to high school or college. My mom started me off on the right path early. Not only did she give me an appreciation for culture, but she introduced me to behind-the-scenes stories that contextualize the movies and make you enjoy them even more.

But we do have our disagreements. One of the most controversial decision in the history of the Oscars was handing Best Director and Picture to Kevin Costner for Dances With Wolves over Martin Scorsese for Goodfellas. I side with Goodfellas, she sides with Dances With Wolves. I love diving into iconic black and white classics and even silent movies, my mom seldom watches an old movie. My mom is not a fan of vulgarity and violence on the screen, as a result she dislikes Quentin Tarantino, whom I hold in high regard. And above all, while she watched and appreciated the Star Wars trilogy when it was released, she gave birth to a fanboy of the franchise.

Regardless of these disagreements in entertainment, I owe my mom so much for exposing me to these iconic movies at an early age. She introduced me to Spielberg, who is the gateway to movies as an art, cinema, for the masses. I always make sure to thank my mom for all that she’s done for me over the years (properly my brothers and me before herself), but I also thank her for introducing me to the classics, cutting the line ahead of my classmates who would discover these joys later on.