There’s nothing really easy about Juno

 I  have an op ed running this morning in the Newark Star Ledger.  For those of you who do not subscribe to the Newark Star Ledger,  here you go:

When Juno hits video stores this week, kids will be anxious to see it or in many cases, anxious to see it again.  It was a date night film for older teens and a feel good movie on a very important subject for the newly minted ones.

Parents should see it, too.  Parents should see it again if they saw it in the theatre.  Because if your household is anything like mine (heaven help you), you missed an opportunity to talk and listen to your kids about the film and its implications.

My partner and I took our thirteen year old twins to see the film.  To her enormous credit, our daughter Kit suggested we sit separately.  At first I thought she just didn’t want to be seen with us. Then I realized that she was the wise one – we were all going to need some space.

We were sure the film would be powerful – a teenage girl who gets pregnant and has to grapple with her options.  We were equally sure it would lead to an eye opening post-film conversation.

But it didn’t.

Maybe it’s because it’s such a feel good movie.  Maybe we just didn’t have the nerve to go there.  Maybe once we heard the kids say how much they admired Juno and her choice, we felt we could move on.  We didn’t push the kids to another level.  We should have.  We took the easy way out.  Just like the filmmakers.

I know it’s a comedy.  But still.  Juno is a great character.  She has spunk and integrity.  But her flesh and blood, her son is presented as a “problem” to be “solved.”  Somehow we miss the fact that her son is a miracle and there actually isn’t a solution.  There are many options, each with consequences and implications.

When my friend Fran’s teenage daughter became pregnant, there was nothing easy about it.  Fran works hard to make ends meet and her husband struggles with a chronic illness.   She understood that her daughter could choose an abortion and this was an option.  But she also understood that this baby was her flesh and blood.  A granddaughter.  She offered to help raise the baby.  Fran’s life became harder in some ways but not in the ways that really matter. And that toddler gives my friend Fran unconditional love and joy.  Fran could not imagine life without her.

My friend Sarah’s adopted son Luke is desperate to know that his first mother’s decision was not easy.  “Was my birth mom sad?” he asked Sarah.  “Did she cry?” The implication for Luke is that he doesn’t ever want to believe that it was easy or inconvenient for his mother to decide to give him away.   Rejection is bad enough but thinking that your birth mother wasn’t too broken up about it?  Devastating.   He wants to know that he was loved beyond measure – that the idea of him was thrilling in some profound way to his birth mom.   He needs to know that these things are not mutually exclusive with his mom’s decision to give him a better shot with my friend Sarah.

My friend Terry found herself in Juno’s situation nearly 35 years ago.  She’d like people to know that the choice she made to give her baby away wasn’t easy.  It was the most excruciatingly painful experience of her life. And no, her real name is not Terry.

Terry would tell Juno that, in the weeks following the birth, Juno’s body will physically crave the baby. She would tell Juno that getting back together with the father of your child causes an even greater sense of loss. And she would tell her that when she is ready to start a family, her sense of loss will hit her like a ton of bricks.  She will want her baby back.  And it will be too late.

As a fictional character, Juno is the centerpiece of the film.  She is strong willed and independent-minded. She is smart, insightful and a little complicated.  What a missed opportunity for the filmmakers not to use this character to take on more responsibility for a life decision that requires just such attributes.

I want our kids to understand the ramifications of the choices they make in life. I do want them to believe in happy endings but to remember that the path to get there is typically neither easy or obvious.  I want them to never forget that a human life is not a problem to be solved but a miracle.  And that  “respect for human life” is not just a saying.  It should be considered a profound obligation.

I wrote this piece hoping it would get published.  But there are only two readers I really care about.  It’s time for a follow-up conversation.

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