My Life as a Furry Red Monster - Kevin Clash [10]
I thought I’d known love before, but I’d never felt anything like this. I’d seen how my mom shared her love with children, both her own and her daycare kids, and I’d tried to emulate her when I was performing Elmo. But in that intimate moment with Shannon when our eyes and hearts locked, I knew that with Elmo I was simply acting—yes, I was acting from the heart, basing my performance on my genuine love for children, on my happiest memories of childhood, and tapping a reservoir of good intent. But what Shannon and I shared then and ever since is no act, no trick of the camera.
Eight years later, flying home from MuppetFest, I thought about the sophisticated videotape I’d made of Shannon’s first year, and of all the talented people I’d gotten to contribute to it. And then I thought again of that little girl who just wanted to see and touch Elmo and tell him how much she felt. How simple it is to express our love.
People ask me how being a father to Shannon has influenced my performance as Elmo. I tell them that each time I put Elmo on my arm, I am drawing on the completely unconditional and nearly mystical connection I feel with my daughter. It’s true what those other parents told Genia and me all those years ago—being a parent changes everything.
Something inside me changed, as well, and for the better. Elmo had taken me to a marvelous place in my life, and after my daughter was born, it was time for me to take him even further.
THOUGH ELMO IS quick to say “Elmo loves you,” he doesn’t express his feelings through words alone. Elmo backs up his words with warm hugs and a gentle rain of kisses for any child who wants them.
Sometimes, for some kids, words simply aren’t enough. Though I felt very loved and protected as a child, open displays of Elmo-style affection weren’t a part of our family culture. This is not uncommon even in the closest families. It’s just personal. When I first started working with Elmo and people brought their kids on set, or I was doing a live appearance, I was stunned by the transformative powers of a loving touch.
When I’m doing a live appearance with Elmo, the kids don’t really see me; they are focused on their buddy. If I were to remain standing, they truly wouldn’t see me because at six foot one, I tower over them. By necessity, to bring Elmo to the children, I have to get down on their level physically (and with my forty-five-year-old knees, it gets tougher every year). When I place Elmo in front of them, I’m amazed at what happens when I have him look directly into their eyes, put his arms around them for a hug or a kiss, or just caress a cheek or shoulder with one of his fuzzy red hands. As Elmo comes to life with these physical displays of affection, so do the children.
Though youngsters are far more uninhibited when it comes to accepting Elmo’s love, he has a dramatic effect on many adults, as well. A few years ago, I was in Baltimore doing an appearance as a part of a Sesame Workshop educational outreach program. The room was filled with 154 educators and other professionals, parents, and concerned citizens who wanted to assist with our school readiness program. I was to be the unannounced guest speaker, and when I walked in with Elmo, that audience, who only moments ago had been engaged in a serious, issue-oriented discussion about education, suddenly transformed into a rowdy mass of preschoolers who wanted to hug and kiss the fuzzy red monster. I guess you’re never too old to love.
Elmo’s love has a magical way of traveling through TV sets, but when a child can physically touch him, the power of his love is magnified, as if it somehow becomes more real. Think of what happens when you touch another human being. When you reach out to hold someone’s hand, or hug them or kiss them, you’re affirming that your love truly exists.
I learned through puppetry that to make the illusion believable,