I've always believed parents have a responsibility to teach their children that dating and sexual relationships aren't things to rush into.
And I don't particularly care whether that makes me old-fashioned.
I believe young people need guidance.
They need boundaries.
They need to understand that romantic feelings can be wonderful without requiring them to act on every impulse.
And they need adults who are willing to explain the responsibilities that come with growing up.
Which brings me to Mary Jenkins on 227.
Played by Marla Gibbs, Mary was a loving, opinionated, occasionally overbearing mother who had very definite ideas about how her daughter Brenda should behave.
And when it came to teenage dating?
Well, Mary wasn't exactly the kind of mother who handed her fourteen-year-old daughter the house keys and told her to have a wonderful evening.
Far from it.
Mary believed in rules.
Lester Jenkins, played by Hal Williams, believed in rules.
And if Calvin Dobbs wanted to date their daughter, he was going to discover that the Jenkins household wasn't particularly interested in negotiating away its standards.
Now, I admire that.
I don't believe parents should be embarrassed to set age-appropriate limits.
But there's something about Mary's approach that bothers me.
She sometimes seemed so determined to prevent Brenda from making a mistake that she risked making honesty more frightening than the mistake itself.
And when children become afraid to tell their parents what they're doing, those rules can stop providing the protection they were intended to offer.
What's fascinating is that 227 explored this problem across several episodes.
In "Brenda's Last Date," Mary and Lester's restrictions help push Brenda toward sneaking out.
In "And Baby Makes Three," Mary tries a rather unusual method of teaching teenagers about pregnancy and parental responsibility.
And in "Sweet Sixteen," Brenda finally gets permission to date—and demonstrates that she can establish a romantic boundary without her parents standing over her.
I think those episodes belong together.
Because they raise one of the most important questions in parenting.
Are we trying to raise children who obey us only while we're watching, or children who develop the judgment to make responsible decisions when we're not?
And I think Brenda eventually gives us the answer.
At Fourteen, Brenda Wanted to Go to a Dance With Calvin
The first episode, "Brenda's Last Date," aired January 11, 1986.
Brenda Jenkins, played by Regina King, is fourteen.
Her friend Calvin Dobbs, played by Curtis Baldwin, wants to take her to a dance.
Now, I don't consider a fourteen-year-old wanting to attend a school dance an alarming development.
Young teenagers become interested in one another.
They develop crushes.
They want to spend time together.
And they begin experimenting with the idea of having a boyfriend or girlfriend.
That doesn't mean they're ready for every responsibility associated with an adult romantic relationship.
Of course they aren't.
But attending a dance isn't automatically the same thing as becoming sexually active.
And I think parents need to recognize that distinction.
Mary and Lester, however, believe Brenda is too young to date.
They want to protect her.
And I understand their concerns.
But the situation becomes ridiculous when Pearl, Calvin's grandmother, asks Lester to have a man-to-man conversation with the boy about sex.
Now, I think that was actually a reasonable idea.
A responsible adult explaining to a teenage boy that romantic relationships involve respect, restraint, and consideration for another person's feelings?
Wonderful.
I'd encourage that.
Unfortunately, Lester's approach leaves something to be desired.
Lester's Talk With Calvin Was More Threat Than Education
Lester agrees to speak with Calvin.
And this could have been a valuable opportunity.
Calvin is a young teenager.
He's beginning to show romantic interest in Brenda.
He might benefit from hearing that a girl isn't obligated to kiss him simply because she agreed to a date.
That he should respect her boundaries.
That he should never pressure her.
And that if he cares about her, he should consider her reputation, her feelings, and her well-being.
Those are important lessons.
But Lester finishes his talk by threatening to tear Calvin's head off if he fools around with Brenda.
Well.
That's certainly one approach.
And I imagine Calvin left that conversation with a very clear understanding of Lester's physical capabilities.
Whether he learned anything meaningful about relationships is another question.
Calvin becomes so frightened that he cancels his date with Brenda.
Now, I don't think Lester was wrong to be concerned about his daughter's welfare.
I wouldn't want a teenage boy treating my daughter carelessly, either.
But I don't believe frightening a child is the best way to teach him responsibility.
And I particularly dislike the idea of teaching a boy that the primary reason he should behave respectfully toward a girl is that her father might beat him up.
Because what happens when the father isn't there?
What happens when the boy becomes older?
Or when he's dating someone whose family isn't particularly involved?
Respect should come from understanding that another person deserves consideration—not merely from fear of getting caught or punished.
That's what I'd want Calvin to learn.
And I think Lester could have done a much better job of explaining it.
Brenda and Calvin Lied Because They Wanted to Get Around the Rules
After Lester frightens Calvin into canceling the date, Brenda isn't willing to give up.
She wants to attend the dance.
So the teenagers come up with a plan.
Brenda tells her parents she's going to the library.
Calvin tells his grandmother he's going to see Halley's Comet.
And off they go.
I have to laugh.
A library visit and an astronomical observation.
Apparently these children believed their families would be completely reassured by their sudden enthusiasm for education and science.
But the deception is serious.
Brenda isn't where her parents believe she is.
Calvin isn't where Pearl believes he is.
And if something goes wrong, their families may not know where to find them.
I don't excuse that.
I think the children were wrong to lie.
But I also think their parents need to consider why they felt deception was their only way to enjoy a fairly ordinary teenage activity.
When children believe they can talk openly with their parents, they have opportunities to ask questions, negotiate reasonable boundaries, and discuss concerns.
When they believe every request will be met with an immediate refusal or an angry threat, they may stop asking.
And that can create a much more dangerous situation.
Strict rules may control a child's behavior while the parent is present. They don't necessarily teach the child what to do when the parent isn't there.
And that's exactly the problem I see developing.
Brenda and Calvin aren't demonstrating maturity by sneaking out.
But the adults aren't demonstrating particularly effective guidance, either.
Mary Catches Brenda—and Finally Has the Conversation She Should Have Had Earlier
Naturally, Mary discovers what's happening.
She goes to the dance and brings Brenda home.
And I don't blame her.
Brenda lied about where she was going.
That needed to be addressed.
But what I appreciate is that the episode doesn't end with Mary simply punishing her daughter and declaring that the subject is closed.
Instead, mother and daughter have a heart-to-heart conversation.
Mary begins recognizing that Brenda is growing up.
She may not be ready to grant unlimited freedom.
And she certainly hasn't abandoned her standards.
But she agrees that she and Lester can relax the rules somewhat.
I think that's a meaningful change.
Because Mary doesn't have to choose between being a responsible parent and allowing Brenda some independence.
She can do both.
She can establish a reasonable curfew.
She can require Brenda to tell her where she's going and whom she'll be with.
She can discuss what behavior she considers appropriate.
And she can gradually expand Brenda's privileges as Brenda demonstrates responsibility.
That's what I'd have preferred from the beginning.
A parent doesn't have to surrender her authority to acknowledge that her child is growing up. She has to learn how to exercise that authority wisely.
And I appreciate that Mary begins moving in that direction.
Not perfectly.
But it's a start.
Mary Was Right to Take Teenage Pregnancy Seriously
The next important episode is "And Baby Makes Three," which aired October 24, 1987.
By this point, Brenda and Calvin are older.
And Mary becomes concerned that the teenagers aren't taking the possibility of pregnancy seriously enough.
Now, this is where I agree with her.
I don't believe children should approach sexual relationships as though the only question is whether they're attracted to someone.
Attraction is only one part of a much larger picture.
Sexual decisions can involve emotional consequences.
Health considerations.
Responsibilities toward another person.
And the possibility of pregnancy and parenthood.
I don't think teenagers should be frightened into believing that every romantic feeling is dangerous.
But I also don't believe adults should minimize the seriousness of these decisions.
And I especially don't think parents should assume that because teenagers know the basic facts about reproduction, they fully appreciate what those facts might mean in their own lives.
There can be an enormous difference between understanding how pregnancy occurs and appreciating what it means to become responsible for a child.
Mary recognizes that difference.
And she decides to make the lesson memorable.
Very memorable.
Mary Teaches Brenda About Parenthood With a Piglet Named Alberta
Mary arranges an unusual assignment through the teenagers' sex-education class.
The students will have to care for animals.
Brenda and Calvin are assigned a piglet named Alberta.
Yes.
A pig.
Now, I've heard of students being assigned an egg or a mechanical baby to help them understand the responsibilities of parenthood.
But a piglet?
I have to give Mary credit for originality.
Because Alberta is not a decorative household accessory.
She's a living animal.
She needs attention.
She requires care.
And she doesn't automatically become cooperative simply because Brenda and Calvin have other things they'd rather be doing.
Suddenly, the teenagers begin discovering that caring for another living creature isn't nearly as simple as they imagined.
You can't simply put the responsibility aside when it becomes inconvenient.
You can't assume someone else will always take care of everything.
And you can't expect a dependent creature to organize its needs around your social calendar.
I think that's a valuable lesson.
Because parenthood involves more than loving a baby.
It involves providing care when you're tired.
Making sacrifices when you'd rather be doing something else.
And recognizing that another person's needs don't disappear simply because you're frustrated.
A baby isn't a temporary inconvenience that can be returned when the novelty wears off. Parenthood creates responsibilities that continue long after the excitement of having a child has passed.
And I think Mary wanted Brenda and Calvin to understand that.
Preferably before either had reason to experience it firsthand.
But Raising a Pig Isn't the Same Thing as Raising a Child
Now, I don't want to give Mary too much credit.
Because while I appreciate her creativity, I think the assignment has limitations.
Caring for Alberta may demonstrate that dependent creatures require time and attention.
But an animal-care project isn't a complete education about pregnancy or parenting.
It doesn't fully explain the physical realities of pregnancy.
It doesn't address all the financial responsibilities involved in raising a child.
It doesn't adequately prepare teenagers to understand the long-term emotional commitments of parenthood.
And it certainly doesn't replace honest conversations about sexual boundaries, contraception, reproductive health, and relationships.
I'm not suggesting that Mary needed to abandon her belief that Brenda should wait.
I share the view that teenagers shouldn't be encouraged to rush into sexual relationships.
But I also believe that telling a teenager to wait and giving that teenager accurate information are not mutually exclusive responsibilities.
A parent can communicate her moral standards while making sure her child understands the facts.
In fact, I think failing to provide that information can leave a young person less prepared to make responsible decisions.
That's why I would have wanted Mary's piglet assignment to be part of a broader conversation.
Not the entire conversation.
And I would have wanted Calvin to receive the same education.
Because pregnancy and parenting aren't solely female concerns.
Young men need to understand responsibility, too.
They need to recognize that their decisions can have consequences for other people.
And they need to learn that respect involves more than promising a girl's father they won't do anything improper.
A boy should be taught to take responsibility for his choices, not merely to fear the consequences of disappointing an angry father.
That's a lesson Calvin needed as much as Brenda.
Then Brenda Turns Sixteen—and Mary Has to Loosen Her Grip
The third episode, "Sweet Sixteen," aired January 30, 1988.
And I think it's the most important one.
Because this is where we begin to see what Brenda has learned.
At the beginning, Calvin invites her to a basketball dance.
But Brenda is still a week away from her sixteenth birthday.
And her parents won't allow her to attend.
Now, I understand parents establishing an age at which their children can begin dating.
There's nothing inherently unreasonable about that.
But I also think we need to be realistic.
A child doesn't suddenly become responsible at midnight on her sixteenth birthday.
She doesn't wake up the following morning with a complete understanding of relationships, consent, emotional maturity, and personal responsibility.
And she certainly doesn't become immune to making foolish decisions simply because the calendar has changed.
Age can be a useful guide.
But it isn't a substitute for judgment.
Still, Mary and Lester have established sixteen as the age Brenda can begin dating.
And eventually the birthday arrives.
Brenda has her sweet sixteen party.
Sandra asks what she's going to do now that she has reached this important milestone.
And Brenda announces that she's going on her first date.
Wonderful.
Except she isn't going with Calvin.
She's going with a young man named Durell.
Well, that certainly surprises everybody.
Including Calvin.
And I have to laugh because it demonstrates something parents sometimes forget.
You can set the rules.
You can decide when your child may begin dating.
But you cannot necessarily decide whom that child will find attractive.
Nor should you expect to.
Mary and Lester Interrogate Brenda's Date
When Durell arrives, Mary and Lester naturally want to know who he is.
I don't object to that.
If a sixteen-year-old daughter is going out with someone her parents don't know, I think it's reasonable to meet him.
Ask where they're going.
Find out when she's expected home.
Make sure there are clear arrangements for transportation.
And establish how she can contact her family if something goes wrong.
That's responsible parenting.
But the Jenkins parents take their questioning rather seriously.
Durell finds himself facing something closer to an interrogation than an introduction.
And I have to laugh.
Because I can practically imagine Mary sitting in the living room with a notepad, asking whether the young man has references.
Perhaps Lester would like to see his financial statements.
And Pearl could conduct a background investigation from the building's front steps.
But underneath the comedy, there's an important concern.
Parents should make teenagers feel comfortable bringing friends and prospective romantic partners into their homes.
If every visitor is treated like a criminal suspect, teenagers may simply stop introducing people.
And that doesn't make them safer.
It makes it more difficult for parents to know what's happening.
I'd rather Brenda feel comfortable saying, "Mom, I'm going out with Durell," than believe she needed to pretend she was visiting the library again.
A parent who wants honest communication has to make honesty feel possible.
That doesn't mean approving of every choice.
It means responding with enough fairness that the child remains willing to talk.
Then Mary and Lester Spy on Brenda
The parents finally allow Brenda and Durell to leave.
But apparently Mary and Lester aren't entirely convinced that their daughter can survive an evening without supervision.
So later that night, they go outside to spy on the couple.
Good grief.
The poor girl has finally reached the age when she's permitted to date.
And her parents are still conducting neighborhood surveillance.
Now, I understand the temptation.
Parents worry.
They imagine all sorts of possibilities.
And when their children begin dating, the realization that they can no longer supervise every interaction can be frightening.
But I don't believe covertly watching a teenager is the same thing as teaching her responsibility.
And if the parents are constantly monitoring every moment, how are they supposed to discover whether their daughter can make good decisions independently?
At some point, they have to allow her the opportunity.
Not unlimited freedom.
Not freedom without accountability.
But reasonable independence.
And here's where the episode becomes especially meaningful.
Because what Brenda does next is something I think Mary and Lester should have been proud to witness.
Brenda Tells Durell She Isn't Ready to Kiss Him
During the date, Brenda and Durell reach a moment when kissing becomes a possibility.
And Brenda tells him she's not ready.
That's it.
No dramatic confrontation.
No angry father rushing outside.
No grandmother appearing from behind a garbage can.
Brenda simply communicates her boundary.
She isn't ready.
And I think that's wonderful.
Because this is precisely the kind of judgment I'd want a parent to teach.
Brenda doesn't need to make herself uncomfortable simply because she's on a date.
She doesn't need to prove she's mature.
She doesn't need to kiss someone because he's interested.
And she doesn't need to apologize for having a limit.
Agreeing to a date doesn't obligate someone to provide physical affection.
Not a kiss.
Not anything else.
And I think that lesson deserves to be taught clearly.
A young woman should feel confident saying no when she isn't comfortable.
A young man should respect that decision.
And neither should believe that a boundary is an invitation to negotiate until the other person gives in.
What impresses me about Brenda is that she makes the decision herself.
Mary isn't standing beside her issuing instructions.
Lester isn't threatening Durell.
Brenda recognizes what she wants and what she doesn't want.
And she communicates it.
That's maturity.
Not because she has reached a particular birthday.
But because she demonstrates the ability to act according to her own judgment.
The real success of Mary's parenting isn't that Brenda obeyed a rule. It's that Brenda understood she had the right to make a responsible choice even when her parents weren't directing her.
And I think that's the moment the entire storyline has been leading toward.
Calvin Was Hiding Nearby, Which Is Another Lesson Entirely
Of course, because this is 227, the episode can't end with one quiet demonstration of teenage maturity.
Calvin is nearby.
Hiding by the garbage cans.
Apparently the young man has decided that observing Brenda's romantic life from behind the trash is a perfectly reasonable use of his evening.
Oh, Calvin.
For heaven's sake.
When Brenda's date ends, Calvin asks her out for the following Friday.
Now, I understand that he's been interested in Brenda for a long time.
And there's something sweet about two young people who've grown up together developing romantic feelings.
But I also think Calvin needs to respect Brenda's independence.
She doesn't owe him a date simply because they're friends.
She doesn't owe him romantic affection because he's been waiting.
And she certainly doesn't owe him an explanation for being interested in someone else.
That's an important lesson for boys, too.
Sometimes a girl likes you.
Sometimes she doesn't.
Sometimes she changes her mind.
And sometimes she wants to date someone else.
That may be disappointing.
But disappointment isn't a justification for pressure, jealousy, or possessiveness.
I explored a much more exaggerated example in Steve Urkel's years-long pursuit of Laura Winslow on Family Matters.
Steve's devotion could be sweet, but it also raised a question: when does romantic persistence stop being admirable and begin disregarding the other person's right to choose?
Calvin needed to understand that Brenda was free to make her own decisions.
And Brenda needed to understand that being considerate of Calvin's feelings didn't require her to sacrifice her own.
A healthy relationship begins with two people choosing one another freely, not one person waiting until the other finally gives in.
That's another lesson worth teaching teenagers.
Roseanne Conner Faced a Similar Question With Becky
Watching Mary Jenkins struggle with Brenda reminds me of another television mother who faced a difficult decision about her teenage daughter's sexuality.
Roseanne Conner.
In my article about Roseanne buying birth control pills for Becky, I questioned whether helping a teenager obtain contraception necessarily represented the kind of parental guidance I would have preferred.
My concern wasn't that parents should hide information from their children.
Quite the opposite.
I believe teenagers deserve honest, accurate information about sexual health and the possible consequences of their decisions.
But I also believe parents have a right—and a responsibility—to communicate their values.
And personally, I'd encourage young people to wait before becoming sexually active.
I wouldn't consider that an unreasonable standard.
The difference between Roseanne and Mary is interesting.
Roseanne was dealing with a teenager who had already reached a particular decision about sex.
Mary was trying to help Brenda understand responsibility before she reached that point.
And I find Mary's approach more appealing in one important respect.
She wasn't simply reacting after her daughter had made a decision.
She was attempting to provide a moral framework in advance.
But I still believe Mary could have done a better job of explaining that framework.
Because threatening Calvin and spying on Brenda weren't substitutes for education.
Parents can teach their children to wait without using fear as their primary teaching method.
And I think that's the approach I'd want to see.
Waiting Isn't Something Teenagers Should Be Embarrassed About
There's something about Brenda's decision not to kiss Durell that I particularly appreciate.
She doesn't appear to treat her own restraint as something shameful.
She's not ready.
And that's enough.
I wish more television programs communicated that message without making it seem that the teenager was immature, frightened, or somehow missing out.
There's nothing wrong with taking a romantic relationship slowly.
There's nothing wrong with wanting to get to know someone before becoming physically affectionate.
And there's nothing wrong with deciding that certain experiences should wait until a person is older, more mature, or in a more committed relationship.
I also don't believe children should be taught that sexual experience is some kind of achievement they need to collect before graduating from high school.
It isn't.
Becoming sexually active doesn't automatically make someone mature.
And choosing to wait doesn't automatically make someone childish.
Maturity is demonstrated by the ability to understand your values, consider the consequences, and make a decision without being pushed into something you're not ready for.
That's the quality I admire in Brenda.
And that's what I'd want both girls and boys to learn.
I explored a similar concern in the Facts of Life episode where Natalie becomes sexually intimate with Snake and then struggles with his apparent withdrawal.
Natalie's situation was different, but the question of readiness was central.
I don't believe young people should make intimate decisions simply because they're afraid of losing someone's affection.
And I don't think they should feel embarrassed about setting boundaries.
Brenda's decision in "Sweet Sixteen" demonstrates that perfectly.
She enjoys the opportunity to date.
But she doesn't allow the date itself to determine what she's willing to do.
I think that's a lesson worth celebrating.
Mary Was Right About Responsibility, but Wrong to Think Fear Was Enough
Here's where I'd challenge Mary Jenkins.
She had good intentions.
She wanted Brenda to grow into a responsible young woman.
She wanted to protect her from situations she might not be prepared to handle.
And she understood that becoming sexually active could carry serious consequences.
I agree with all of that.
But Mary sometimes approached parenting as though authority were enough.
Set a rule.
Make the rule clear.
Punish the child if necessary.
And assume that the problem has been solved.
Except children are more complicated than that.
They develop curiosity.
They want independence.
They sometimes disagree with their parents.
And they may encounter situations their parents never anticipated.
That's why I think explanations matter.
If Mary believes fourteen is too young to date, Brenda deserves to hear why.
If Lester believes Calvin should treat his daughter respectfully, Calvin deserves an explanation of what respectful behavior actually involves.
And if Mary wants Brenda to appreciate the responsibilities of parenthood, the piglet assignment should be accompanied by thoughtful discussion.
Not simply a frightening demonstration of how difficult raising a baby might be.
The goal shouldn't be to make teenagers afraid of growing up. It should be to help them grow up responsibly.
And that's where I believe parents have to become teachers.
Not merely rule enforcers.
What Jewish Wisdom Says About Teaching Children Without Frightening Them
There's a teaching in Pirkei Avot 2:5 that I think Mary and Lester could have benefited from hearing.
It tells us that a timid or excessively embarrassed person may struggle to learn, and an impatient person cannot teach effectively.
I find that particularly meaningful.
Because children need to feel able to ask questions.
Especially questions about subjects they find embarrassing.
Relationships.
Sexuality.
Personal boundaries.
Peer pressure.
And the confusing emotions that come with adolescence.
If every question produces an angry reaction, children may stop asking.
They may decide that ignorance is less frightening than disappointing a parent.
Or they may turn to friends who don't know much more than they do.
I don't think that's what Mary wanted.
And I'm sure it isn't what Lester wanted.
But good intentions aren't enough if the method prevents a child from learning.
There's also the familiar teaching in Proverbs 22:6 about educating a child according to the appropriate path.
I don't interpret that as a guarantee that every child raised correctly will always make good decisions.
Parents can't control every outcome.
But I do think it reminds us that education requires attention to the person being taught.
A fourteen-year-old and a sixteen-year-old aren't identical.
Two children of the same age may have very different levels of maturity.
And what one child understands immediately may require much more explanation for another.
That's why I don't believe parenting can consist entirely of issuing the same rules regardless of the circumstances.
Parents need judgment, too.
They need to understand their children.
They need to recognize when a limit is necessary and when additional freedom is appropriate.
And they need the humility to acknowledge when their own fear has interfered with effective guidance.
To me, being a mensch includes teaching others with patience and respect.
Not because we're afraid to establish standards.
But because standards become more meaningful when the person following them understands the values behind them.
And I think Brenda's eventual decision not to kiss Durell demonstrates that beautifully.
She isn't simply afraid of being caught.
She's making a choice.
Her own choice.
That's the kind of moral development I'd want to encourage.
What I Would Have Told Mary and Lester
If Mary Jenkins were sitting across from me, asking how she should handle Brenda's interest in dating, I wouldn't tell her to abandon her standards.
I wouldn't tell her that fourteen-year-olds should automatically be allowed to do whatever their friends are doing.
And I certainly wouldn't suggest that because romantic attraction is a normal part of adolescence, parents should stop discussing appropriate boundaries.
I'd tell her that her concerns are legitimate.
But I'd also remind her that Brenda is going to grow up whether Mary feels ready for it or not.
She'll meet boys.
She'll develop feelings.
She'll encounter social situations without her parents standing beside her.
And she'll eventually have to make decisions on her own.
So I'd encourage Mary to begin preparing her.
Have honest conversations.
Explain why certain boundaries matter.
Discuss respect and pressure.
Make sure Brenda understands that she can come home or call for help without fearing that the first response will be a screaming match.
And if she makes a mistake, address the mistake without making her feel that one poor decision has destroyed her worth.
As for Lester?
I'd tell him that threatening Calvin might frighten him temporarily.
But a frightened boy isn't necessarily a responsible boy.
I'd want Lester to explain what he expects from a young man dating his daughter.
Respect.
Honesty.
Consideration.
And the understanding that Brenda has the right to decide what she is and isn't comfortable with.
And I'd want the same standards applied to Brenda.
Because relationships involve two people.
Both have responsibilities.
Both deserve respect.
And both should be encouraged to think before acting.
Most importantly, I'd tell Mary and Lester that a successful parent isn't one who manages to supervise every decision. It's one who helps a child develop the judgment to make good decisions independently.
And sooner or later, that's what they'll have to trust Brenda to do.
The Best Lesson Came When Mary Wasn't Giving One
Here's what I find most interesting about these three episodes.
The first is about parental restrictions.
The second is about a parental teaching exercise.
But the third gives us the strongest evidence of Brenda's growing maturity.
And Mary isn't the one delivering the lesson.
Brenda is.
She's finally old enough to go on a date.
She has the freedom she wanted.
And when a moment of physical affection arises, she calmly establishes a boundary.
That's it.
No piglet.
No lecture.
No threats.
No parental command.
Just a young woman who understands that she doesn't have to do something simply because the opportunity presents itself.
I think that's beautiful.
And I think it's a much better demonstration of successful parenting than a teenager who obeys a rule only because she's frightened of the consequences.
This also connects to something I've discussed in my article about television shows that made their life lessons unmistakable.
I believe television writers have an opportunity to teach viewers something valuable.
Especially young viewers who may not have adults willing or able to explain difficult subjects thoughtfully.
And 227 did something worthwhile by showing Brenda grow.
She wasn't presented as a permanently obedient child who never questioned her parents.
Nor was she simply a rebellious teenager whose independence was celebrated regardless of her decisions.
She made mistakes.
She learned.
And she gradually began demonstrating judgment.
The lesson wasn't that Mary needed to win every argument. It was that Brenda needed to become someone capable of making responsible choices without an argument.
And I think that's a much more worthwhile parenting goal.
My Verdict: Mary Had the Right Values, but Brenda Showed What Real Maturity Looked Like
I still admire Mary Jenkins.
I admire her devotion to her family.
I appreciate her belief that parents should take an active role in their children's lives.
And I agree that teenage dating and sexuality deserve serious conversations rather than being treated as meaningless rites of passage.
I particularly appreciate that Mary didn't believe her responsibilities ended simply because Brenda wanted more freedom.
But I don't agree with everything she did.
I think Lester's threat to Calvin was unnecessary.
I think excessive restrictions helped encourage Brenda to lie.
And I think Mary and Lester occasionally confused supervision with effective parenting.
Still, I appreciate that the episodes allowed the family to grow.
Mary gradually recognized that Brenda needed more independence.
Brenda began learning that freedom came with responsibilities.
And the show eventually gave us a moment that demonstrated the value of teaching rather than merely controlling.
Brenda told Durell she wasn't ready to kiss him.
Such a simple moment.
And yet I think it may have been one of the most important lessons the series offered young viewers.
Because Brenda wasn't ashamed of her decision.
She wasn't apologizing for having standards.
And she wasn't behaving as though reaching sixteen meant she suddenly had to participate in every romantic experience available to her.
She understood that she could date someone, enjoy his company, and still decide that certain things should wait.
I wish more television programs emphasized that distinction.
At fifty-one, I still believe young people benefit from being taught restraint.
I believe parents should explain that sexual relationships carry responsibilities.
And I believe there's nothing wrong with encouraging teenagers to wait until they're older and better prepared for those responsibilities.
But I also believe that those lessons should be taught through patience, honest conversation, and mutual respect.
Not simply fear.
Not humiliation.
And not the assumption that children will automatically behave responsibly because their parents have forbidden something.
Mary Jenkins was right to care about Brenda's choices. But Brenda's greatest achievement was learning to make thoughtful choices for herself.
And that's what I think the show ultimately got right.
A parent can establish rules.
A parent can offer guidance.
A parent can explain the consequences of certain decisions.
But eventually the child will be standing somewhere without Mom or Dad beside her.
Perhaps on a date.
Perhaps with someone she likes very much.
Perhaps in a situation where she has to decide whether she's comfortable taking another step.
And at that moment, the most valuable thing a parent can give her isn't another warning.
It's the confidence and judgment to make her own decision.
Brenda demonstrated that.
And I think Mary should have been enormously proud.
Not because her daughter had finally reached an acceptable dating age.
Not because she'd successfully monitored every romantic interaction.
But because Brenda understood something that plenty of adults still struggle with.
You can care about someone, enjoy being with him, and still say, "I'm not ready."
And the right person should respect that.
No argument.
No pressure.
No disappointed lecture.
Just respect.
That's a lesson I'd be happy to see every teenager learn.
And if it took Mary Jenkins, Lester Jenkins, Calvin Dobbs, and a piglet named Alberta to get the message across?
Well, I suppose there are worse teaching methods.
Although I still think Mary could have spared the poor pig some of the responsibility for raising her daughter.
