Lessons to Unlearn from Glee – Season 3. Episode 2

Sorry (to anyone who cares which I imagine is zero people) for the lateness of this. I was in NJ for Rosh Hashanah and didn’t watch the episode until Saturday night. This of course caused my sister to delay her post, which can be found here.

I must say, the writing is better this year. They keep this up, and I won’t be able to make these posts anymore. Which, if anyone over at “Glee” headquarters is reading, would be GREAT. But this episode still had some troubling lessons.

Lesson: A baby who was adopted ALWAYS needs his/her biological parents in their lives.

So in this week’s episode, Idina Menzel (whose character name I refuse to remember, especially as it implies that a woman who looks like Idina Menzel is, of all things, Irish) is back for some cockamamie reason involving that new character I keep hoping I can forget exists, and has also apparently decided that it is necessary for a) her own character growth, b) their maturation, and c) the baby’s emotional development that Quinn and Puck be involved in the life of the baby Idina adopted from them at the end of Season One.

(I’ll ignore for a moment that Quinn and Puck have made no mention of the baby from then until now, when suddenly she’s the single emotional driving force for both of them. I get what happened. The new writers came on and said, “Look, this was a major storyline and you dropped it like it was Puck’s pants, so let’s go back there.” And the producers said, “Lea Michele and Idina Menzel singing together is solid gold.” And so it was written. And so it was done.)

So Puck cleans up his act (He’s only drinking beer, now, people!) and Quinn pretends not to be a Skank anymore (after one episode) and everyone acts like this is the most logical, normal, emotionally healthy thing in the world. (Well, Quinn is planning on getting her baby back but . . . I promised not to comment on the fact that she hasn’t mentioned this baby in over a year so I’m not.)

The truth: Look, I don’t know what the truth is. I’m sure that, as regards adoption, in some cases, maintaining the involvement of the biological parents is a fabulous idea, and in some cases it’s a neutral idea, and in some cases, like for instance if there’s a chance that the boundary between “person who donated a gamete” and “person who is responsible for raising the kid” isn’t going to be respected, it’s a fucking awful idea. (And in case you’re confused, that last thing, that’s how it’s going to play out here, until the writers/producers realize that a story line like that doesn’t really go with dancing to pop songs and belting out Streisand tunes.) But I am absolutely certain that a) the kid’s needs come first, not the need for emotional growth on the part of the dopey-ass teenage gamete-donators, and b) presenting the option of biological parent-involvement in adoption as THE ONE TRUE PATH is fucking irresponsible. I am also sure that the writers don’t really know what the truth is, but for some reason, the characters on this highly campy, highly satirical television show about teenagers who sing have to stand on their high horses about some random-ass thing once a week, and this week, they decided it was this. I hope they drop it soon.

Lesson: Only one thing defines who you are, other people get to tell you what that is and how it manifests itself, and if you don’t celebrate it, you are ashamed of it. This week, Kurt a) wanted to be Tony in West Side Story but fey-ed around to a Barbara Streisand song instead of singing anything a heterosexual male love interest would sing, and then tried to make up for it by performing a scene from Romeo and Juliet, which I thought he did a fine job of, but which was apparently also far too effeminate, because Shakespeare is for girls, doncha know, and b) started his campaign for senior class president (which apparently wasn’t decided last spring at McKinley High) and argued with Britney about posters using pink and sparkles and unicorns (yes, literally) versus using a black-and-white faaaaaabulous photo of Kurt. In the end he chose the unicorns so as to embrace his fully gay self.

The truth: We are all multifaceted creatures who do have and should use the power to choose how we define and represent ourselves. And homosexuality is not just about glitter.

I have nothing to add to that, so instead I will leave you with a family anecdote. My mother ran for (and won) freshman class president. She only ran because the boy who was running smugged to her that he was sure he was going to win and anyway there was no way an icky-picky girl was going to beat him. So she did. And she made some awesome Peanuts-themed posters to do it. Go, Mom! (Then she hated being on student council and didn’t run again. But that’s not the point.)


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