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I've always believed there's a big difference between being the kind of mother your children can talk to and being the kind of mother who likes telling everyone how open-minded she is.
Roseanne Conner certainly enjoyed presenting herself as the kind of mother who could handle anything.
She was loud, outspoken, sarcastic, and never particularly concerned about appearing respectable. She made fun of conventional parenting, mocked people who took themselves too seriously, and generally behaved as though there was nothing her children could tell her that would leave her speechless.
Then Becky asked for birth control.
And suddenly, the woman who had an answer for absolutely everything could barely form a sentence.
I remember Roseanne as a sitcom that wasn't afraid to show a family struggling with money, marriage, parenting, and the ordinary aggravations of living under one roof.
I appreciated that.
But there's something about Roseanne Conner's parenting that I find increasingly difficult to admire.
She was perfectly comfortable being sarcastic, opinionated, and controlling when her children were doing things she didn't like.
Yet when Becky came to her with a genuinely serious question, Roseanne spent an extraordinary amount of energy worrying about what it meant for her.
Her reputation.
Her feelings.
Her difficulty accepting that her daughter was growing up.
And while the episode eventually gives Roseanne credit for handling the situation better than she feared she would, I'm not inclined to hand her a Mother of the Year trophy.
Let's talk about why.
When Becky Asked for Birth Control, Jackie Was the Adult in the Room
The episode is "A Bitter Pill to Swallow," which aired September 17, 1991, as the fourth-season premiere of Roseanne.
Becky Conner, played by Lecy Goranson, is seventeen and dating Mark Healy, played by Glenn Quinn.
Roseanne and Dan aren't particularly fond of Mark.
And now Becky wants to discuss getting birth control.
It's a conversation many parents would find difficult.
I'd certainly understand a mother being surprised, frightened, or disappointed to discover that her teenage daughter was considering becoming sexually active.
But Becky isn't announcing that she's running away to join the circus.
She's trying to have a serious conversation about something that could have serious consequences.
And that deserves a serious response.
Here's what I find especially revealing: Becky first turns to her aunt Jackie, played by Laurie Metcalf.
Jackie encourages her to talk to Roseanne.
She's the one who recognizes that Becky is doing something important by asking for help rather than keeping everything secret.
Roseanne, meanwhile, freezes.
She gives Becky the impression that everything is fine, then practically falls apart after Becky leaves the room.
Now, I don't expect parents to feel calm about every difficult conversation.
They're human beings.
But I do expect adults to understand that their reactions can affect whether a child feels comfortable coming to them again.
Jackie understands the significance of Becky's trust.
Roseanne needs someone to explain it to her.
For a woman who considers herself such an expert on human behavior, that's not especially impressive.
Roseanne Was More Worried About What People Would Think Than She Should Have Been
One of the moments that bothers me most happens when Roseanne takes Becky to her medical appointment.
Roseanne begins worrying about how other mothers might react if they find out she's helping her daughter obtain birth control.
And I have a question.
Why are these imaginary women suddenly part of the conversation?
They're not raising Becky.
They're not responsible for her well-being.
And they're certainly not entitled to vote on how Roseanne handles a private family matter.
I have very little patience for parents who make decisions based on what the neighbors might say.
If you genuinely believe your child is making a mistake, explain why.
If you're concerned about her safety, address that.
If you're worried she's being pressured into something she's not ready for, have the conversation.
But don't make your child's private situation into a public-relations problem.
Your responsibility is to your child, not to the neighborhood gossip committee.
And that's where Roseanne loses me.
She's usually so proud of not caring what respectable society thinks.
She'll insult somebody to his face without blinking.
Yet here she is, worried that other mothers might conclude she's giving Becky permission to have sex.
Really, Roseanne?
Since when do you need their approval?
I don't object to a mother having values or expectations about her teenager's behavior.
I object to a mother becoming more concerned about how her parenting looks than about what her daughter needs to understand.
There's a big difference.
Being the Cool Mom Isn't the Same as Being a Good Mom
Here's another thing I think deserves criticism.
Roseanne spends much of the episode trying to manage her reaction.
She doesn't want to frighten Becky away.
That's sensible.
She doesn't want Dan exploding at their daughter.
Also sensible.
But there's a danger in confusing emotional restraint with actual communication.
A mother shouldn't have to pretend she has no concerns in order to keep her daughter's confidence.
And she shouldn't have to become a teenager's best friend to prove she's approachable.
I believe children need parents who are willing to tell them things they don't necessarily want to hear.
Sometimes that means explaining why an important decision deserves more thought.
Sometimes it means asking uncomfortable questions.
Sometimes it means saying you disagree.
But it should be done with respect.
Roseanne could have been straightforward from the beginning.
"I'm glad you came to me. I have some concerns because this is a serious decision, and I want us to talk about them. But I'm going to listen first."
There.
No need for a nervous performance.
No need to pretend she thinks everything is wonderful.
And no need to make Becky responsible for managing her mother's emotions.
That's what I'd call parenting.
Not playing the role of the progressive, unshockable mother.
Being one who can handle a difficult subject without making it all about herself.
Dan's Reaction Wasn't Much Better
Of course, we can't discuss this episode without mentioning Dan Conner, played by John Goodman.
When Roseanne tells him about Becky's request, Dan immediately directs his anger toward Mark.
He jokes about wanting to kill him.
It's a sitcom, and I understand the joke.
But beneath that familiar overprotective-father routine is an attitude I don't particularly admire.
Becky is seventeen.
She's capable of having opinions, making decisions, and participating in a relationship.
That doesn't mean she's ready for every responsibility that might follow.
It does mean her father can't treat her as though she's a possession another man has stolen.
And turning Mark into the villain doesn't eliminate Becky's responsibility for her own choices.
I also don't believe parents should treat their children's partners as enemies merely because the relationship makes them uncomfortable.
If Mark is behaving irresponsibly, discuss his behavior.
If Becky is overlooking warning signs, help her recognize them.
If there are concerns about pressure, respect, or consequences, those concerns deserve attention.
But threatening the boyfriend, even as a joke, isn't a substitute for parenting.
Dan eventually channels some of his feelings into an absurd lecture about the condition of a wrench Mark has been using at the motorcycle shop.
The scene is funny because everyone can understand what Dan is really upset about.
But it also demonstrates something about adults who refuse to address the actual problem.
They find something else to complain about.
And the real conversation never happens.
I'd rather have a father admit he's worried about his daughter than watch him intimidate her boyfriend over a tool.
Jackie Understood Something Roseanne Should Have Known
I've always thought Jackie deserved more credit in this episode.
She's the person who helps Becky approach her mother.
She recognizes that a teenager asking for help is better than one who feels she has to hide everything.
And when Roseanne begins spiraling, Jackie reminds her that Becky's willingness to confide in her is valuable.
That's the lesson I wish Roseanne had grasped immediately.
Your child coming to you doesn't mean you must approve of everything she's doing.
It's something Andy Taylor learned the hard way in "Andy Taylor Got It Wrong: What 'Opie's Charity' Teaches Parents About Listening." Both parents needed to understand that listening to a child doesn't mean surrendering parental authority.
It means she's giving you an opportunity to be involved in a responsible way.
And that opportunity shouldn't be wasted.
Imagine if Becky had concluded that her mother couldn't handle the conversation and decided never to bring it up again.
Would Roseanne have felt better because she didn't have to hear something uncomfortable?
Probably.
Would Becky have been better served?
Not necessarily.
Parents can't prevent every mistake their children might make.
But they can create an atmosphere where children feel able to ask questions and seek help.
That doesn't require pretending there are no rules.
It requires behaving like a trustworthy adult.
And I find it remarkable that Jackie, who wasn't Becky's parent, seemed to understand the importance of that moment more quickly than Roseanne did.
Roseanne Was Terrified That Becky Didn't Need Her Anymore
Now we get to the part of the episode I consider especially revealing.
While Becky is having her appointment, Roseanne admits she's struggling with the realization that her daughter is growing up.
She worries that Becky no longer needs her.
And there it is.
The problem underneath the jokes and the anxiety about what other people might say.
Roseanne is having trouble accepting that her daughter is becoming increasingly independent.
I understand that parents may feel emotional about those changes.
A child who once needed help tying her shoes eventually wants to make important decisions about her own life.
That can be difficult to adjust to.
But here's my question.
Wasn't that the entire point of raising her?
A parent's job isn't to keep a child dependent forever.
I explored a similar parenting problem in "Did Father Really Know Best? What Jim Anderson Got Right and Wrong About Parenting." Different decade, different parenting style, but the same question: can parents guide their children without insisting on controlling every decision?
It's to help that child develop the judgment, knowledge, and confidence necessary to manage life responsibly.
And I don't believe children should be made to feel guilty because they're growing up.
Roseanne's sadness is understandable.
What I object to is the temptation to make Becky's growing independence about Roseanne's loss of importance.
Becky isn't taking something away from her mother by becoming older.
She's doing what children are supposed to do.
Growing.
Learning.
Making decisions.
And yes, sometimes making decisions their parents wouldn't have chosen.
A good mother remains available for guidance without requiring her child to stay little so she can continue feeling needed.
If Roseanne wanted a relationship with Becky as she grew older, she'd have to learn how to relate to the young woman Becky was becoming.
Not keep wishing for the little girl she used to be.
But I Won't Pretend Roseanne Did Everything Wrong
Here's where I have to give Roseanne credit for what she actually does in the episode.
She doesn't throw Becky out of the house.
She doesn't publicly humiliate her.
She goes with her to obtain medical care.
And when the two finally have a private conversation, Roseanne tells Becky that having a boyfriend doesn't mean she has to have sex.
She explains that Becky is young and encourages her to think carefully about the decision.
That's an appropriate concern for a mother to express.
Then Becky reveals something Roseanne hadn't realized.
She and Mark have already had sex.
Becky also explains that they used a condom and that she wants additional pregnancy protection.
Roseanne is visibly shaken, but she doesn't explode.
She asks whether there's anything else she needs to know.
And when Becky asks her not to tell Dan, Roseanne agrees to respect that confidence.
Those are meaningful choices.
I won't ignore them merely because I dislike Roseanne's broader parenting style.
But I also won't pretend they excuse her earlier preoccupation with her reputation and her difficulty accepting that Becky has a life beyond her control.
Roseanne ultimately manages to behave responsibly. My criticism is how much she struggles to put Becky's needs ahead of her own feelings.
That's the difference.
And it's worth discussing.
Why Roseanne's Usual Sarcasm Wasn't Going to Help
Roseanne's humor was one of the defining features of the series.
She could be merciless.
Her children, her husband, her sister, her boss—practically nobody escaped her mouth.
And sometimes she was hilarious.
But I don't believe sarcasm works equally well in every situation.
A teenager asking a serious question about her relationship isn't necessarily looking for a comedy routine.
She may already feel embarrassed.
She may be afraid of being judged.
And she may be trying to determine whether the adult she's talking to can be trusted.
That's not the time to turn everything into a joke at her expense.
I believe parents should be able to laugh with their children.
What I don't believe is that children should have to wonder whether a serious concern will become the next family punchline.
There's a difference between being funny and being considerate.
And when those two qualities come into conflict, I'd choose consideration.
Every time.
The Conversation Should Have Been About More Than Birth Control
Here's the larger parenting lesson I take from this episode.
Birth control was the reason Becky approached her mother.
But the conversation was about much more than obtaining a prescription.
It involved trust.
Responsibility.
Emotional readiness.
The possibility of pressure.
And whether Becky felt confident making decisions that could affect her future.
Those aren't matters a parent can resolve with one dramatic lecture.
Nor should parents rely on a thirty-year-old sitcom for accurate medical information about contraception or sexual health.
Those questions belong with a qualified healthcare professional.
But parents still have an important role in discussing personal values, relationships, and responsibilities.
I'd want a teenager to understand that she never owes someone sex simply because they're dating.
I'd want her to know she can change her mind.
That a caring partner respects boundaries.
That she should be able to seek reliable health information without being humiliated.
And that a serious relationship doesn't eliminate her other responsibilities, goals, and ambitions.
Most importantly, I'd want her to understand that she can talk about these subjects without having to pretend everything is fine just to keep her mother calm.
Roseanne eventually touches on some of these concerns.
I just wish she'd spent less time worrying about how the situation reflected on her.
What I'd Do If a Teenager Came to Me With a Difficult Question
I believe parents can have traditional values and still handle difficult conversations responsibly.
There's no contradiction there.
You can believe teenagers should wait before becoming sexually active.
You can believe sex belongs in a serious, committed relationship.
You can have strong expectations about responsibility and respect.
And you can communicate all of that without frightening a teenager away from asking for help.
I'd begin with something simple:
"I'm glad you trusted me enough to bring this up. I have some concerns, but I want to understand what you're thinking."
Then I'd listen.
Not interrupt every sentence.
Not react as though the child has just announced the end of civilization.
And not start imagining what every neighbor in town is going to say.
I'd ask what the teenager understands about the decision, whether there's any pressure involved, and what questions she has.
I'd explain my values honestly.
And I'd make sure medical questions were addressed by an appropriate professional rather than relying on household folklore or outdated television dialogue.
If I felt disappointed, I'd deal with that as the adult.
I wouldn't expect the child to comfort me for having grown up.
And I wouldn't make my affection conditional on the teenager agreeing with every one of my opinions.
That's not being permissive.
That's being responsible.
Being a Mensch Means Acting Like the Adult
I keep coming back to the Jewish idea of being a mensch because I think it captures something that gets lost in these discussions.
It's not enough to have the right opinions.
It's how you behave toward people that reveals your character.
And parents don't get an exemption simply because they're parents.
Roseanne could say she loved Becky, and I believe she did.
She could claim to be open-minded.
She could insist that she wanted her daughter to trust her.
But the test was what she actually did when Becky came to her with something uncomfortable.
Not what she told other people about her parenting.
Not whether she appeared progressive.
Not whether she felt like the most understanding mother in Lanford.
How she treated Becky.
That's what mattered.
And I believe that standard applies to every parent, regardless of personal beliefs.
If you tell children they can come to you, be prepared to hear something you don't like.
If you teach responsibility, demonstrate it when you're upset.
If you expect honesty, don't punish children simply for telling you an uncomfortable truth.
And if you want your children to become independent, don't make them feel guilty when they begin showing signs of independence.
That's how you behave like a mensch.
Not by announcing that you're one.
Roseanne Conner Didn't Need to Be the Cool Mother. She Needed to Be the Mature One.
I don't think "A Bitter Pill to Swallow" is a bad episode.
Actually, I think it's one of the more revealing episodes of Roseanne because it exposes something underneath the character's tough exterior.
Roseanne likes being in control.
She likes having the last word.
She likes believing that she can handle anything life throws at her.
But when her daughter begins making decisions she can't control, that confidence suddenly becomes a lot less convincing.
And for once, sarcasm isn't enough to solve the problem.
She has to listen.
She has to accept that Becky is growing up.
And she has to manage her own feelings without allowing them to overwhelm her responsibilities as a mother.
Roseanne ultimately does some important things right.
But there's another side to this argument, and I have some strong feelings about it. In "On the Other Hand: Roseanne Bought Becky's Birth Control—and I Still Think She Was Wrong," I explain why listening to your teenager doesn't necessarily mean approving of—or paying for—every decision she makes.
Jackie helps her recognize the value of Becky's trust, and Roseanne makes enough of an effort to preserve it.
But I still think her priorities deserve criticism.
A teenager's difficult conversation should not become a referendum on whether her mother is cool, progressive, respectable, or still needed.
And it certainly shouldn't revolve around what other mothers might think.
Roseanne's job wasn't to approve of every decision Becky made. It was to help her daughter understand the consequences of her choices while remaining someone she could safely turn to for guidance.
That's the distinction I wish more parents understood.
Being a good mother doesn't mean always agreeing.
It doesn't mean never being disappointed.
And it doesn't mean pretending children are ready for responsibilities they haven't fully considered.
It means having enough self-control to address the issue without turning your own emotions into the child's burden.
Roseanne Conner was funny, outspoken, and often fiercely protective of her family.
But protecting a child isn't the same thing as controlling her.
And being able to deliver a clever insult isn't the same thing as knowing how to have a difficult conversation.
I wouldn't want Roseanne to stop being Roseanne.
But I would want her to recognize that a sharp tongue is no substitute for good judgment.
Becky needed a mother she could talk to. Roseanne needed to stop worrying about what being that mother would say about her.
For once, the most important thing in the Conner household wasn't getting the last word.
It was learning when to listen.
Sources and Further Reading
Peacock — Roseanne, Season 4, Episode 1: A Bitter Pill to Swallow
Springfield! Springfield! — A Bitter Pill to Swallow Episode Transcript
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