Old Enough! (はじめてのおつかい, Hajimete no Otsukai, or literally 'My First Errand') is perhaps the most moving piece of TV that I have watched in a long time.
This Japanese show debuted in 1991, and features toddlers (as young as 2 years and a few months!) going on errands, sometimes having to walk for over an hour. At the beginning of the episodes every kid is given a cute, customized charm pouch that they wear as a sling (it holds a microphone to record their soliloquies), and off they go to help mommy and daddy. The select episodes on Netflix feature some of the most idyllic scenes of the Japanese countryside, fields of green paddies that the children traverse, alone.1
As one would hope, the experience is highly controlled — the show's staff plans meticulously with the parents to make sure the errands and routes are safe, and crew members can always be seen on camera watching over the toddlers.2 In that sense, the show is highly artificial and constructed, as is any reality TV show. However, I can't remember the last time that a piece of drama has taken me on emotional journeys that felt this real.
Having consumed too much TV, there is a part of me that gets cynical when evaluating most TV shows. "Oh, that character's development was not realistic." Or "That plot point was too forced, trying too hard to invoke an unearned emotion." Or, especially for reality TV shows, "That has to be a persona they're playing!"
But with the children, all of their emotions are written clearly on their face and in their very being. Some of them can't wait to leave home and rush out even before they're told what their errand is. Some of the children cry and plea with their parents to come with them. Many children stand solemnly outside the store, their small stature dwarfed by the large vending machines and doors in front of them. Some stand outside for up to an hour, petrified, or perhaps they enter and come right back out, trying to work up the courage to speak to the adults inside.
I had also never realized that children talk to themselves so much! Their internal dialogue is shared with all of us to hear. You hear them trying to problem solve, and you hear them musing at Mr. Sun. They are their own cheerleaders: "I won't cry," or, がんばれ/Ganbatte/"Stay with it!" One child was asked by his mom to buy half a block of tofu but he instead asked for two. The tofu is comically large, the size of his torso, and he sets off from the store, one small step at a time, walking until he can't handle the weight anymore. He stops and wracks his brain, dismayed... how is he ever going to get home? And then he remembers he has a backpack.
Some kids, when they fail to complete the errand that they were assigned, are devastated. They come home crying, and ask to go out again to prove themselves. Although we know the errands are doable, the kids themselves often are not so certain. They're literally about to do something for the first time in their life and venture into the great unknown, alone. They may not be confident, but they steel themselves anyway.
The uncertainty that the kids feel is perhaps made more palpable by the fact that we, as concerned viewers, are also uncertain if the children will remember all three items mom told them, or if they will catch the right bus, or if they can actually walk over a kilometer by themselves and find the store. That uncertainty makes the drama so much more real. When the child finally speaks up and realizes that the clerks are helpful they perk up and start sharing their life, "I am on my first errand!" Or, "I'm getting milk for my baby brother!" They are so proud, so empowered. It might just be a grocery run, but you can feel that the experience is truly transformative. They did it, by themselves! They've discovered a strength and courage within themselves that they did not know they had. Suddenly the world is less scary. It is brighter, more open, and full of opportunity.
The show feels like a utopia, only possible somewhere with very high public safety.
Oftentimes the crew disguises as electricians. The show comments that the maximum age for which this concept is possible is around 5. Kids any older start to notice the swarm of crew members following them and think it is suspicious. Younger kids might notice, but it no more odd than the numerous new things that happen to them all the time. At most they simply remark, "wow! lots of busy electricians today!"