When I think of childhood, I think of Disney Channel. My mind floods with memories of sitting in front of the television waiting for my favorite shows to come on. I would practice making the Micky Mouse ears with my imaginary wand just in case Disney ever needed me to step in. I remember my mom being reluctant to let me stay up past my bedtime in order to watch the newest episode of Suite Life of Zack and Cody (because who didn't stay up to see the episode with Jesse McCartney?). I recall going to school the next day to recount every scene (as in how cute Jesse McCartney looked in every scene) with friends during recess.
Singing the theme song to Kim Possible and pretending to save the world at a friend's house was a past time. Attempting to create the crafts I saw on "Out of the Box" was frustrating because my finished product never looked as good as it did on the show. (It was more like, "So long, farewell, to my crafting abilities.")
We all wanted a cartoon version of ourselves just like Lizzie McGuire. Raven's catchphrase of "Oh, snap!" became our own. And remember when aspiring to be like Miley Cyrus was actually a thing?
Until recently, I used to think these childhood memories only belonged to me, my friends, and obviously every other American child who grew up watching Disney Channel. However, the other night I met an Italian who shared my love for the shows we all grew up with. Our conversation consisted of mimicking the sound Kim Possible's phone always made (it just played in your head, didn't it?), laughing at the fact that Ron's naked mole rat, Rufus was so ugly he was actually cute, wishing we could've grown up in a hotel like Zack and Cody, and reenacting the face Raven made when she had a vision.
"The shows on Disney Channel were the greatest!" he kept saying during our walk down memory lane. We talked about how Kim Possible brought out our fearless sides, making us think we too could save the world. "Phil of the Future" let our imaginations run wild because we considered what year we would time travel to. "Lizzie McGuire" provided us with relatable characters and situations (we all were an outfit-repeater at one time or another, had fiercely loyal friends like Miranda and Gordo, the annoying sibling, and of course, our own version of Ethan Craft who we swooned over in school.)
Our conversation full of laughter and excitement made me realize how good Disney Channel was to us and our childhoods. An entire generation of kids across the world overcame the tiredness of staying up late or running home from school in order to watch these shows. We grew up thinking we could do anything we set our minds to, had rich imaginations, and role models to look up to.
It seems that wherever we go, our childhoods linger and can muster up connections between us and a complete stranger. The fact that we can share a laugh or memory with someone on the opposite side of the world goes to show that Disney Channel wasn't only good to you and me, but it was good to the world.
