Leave It to Beaver

By Jessie Seigel / February 27, 2026

Occasionally, when the crush of news comes raining down from all directions like the deck of cards attacking Alice at the end of Lewis Carroll's Wonderland tale, it becomes too much for an opinion columnist to coherently address.

This was one such week for me.

There were the Supreme Court’s decision against Trump’s tariffs and Trump's determination to sidestep it; Trump’s threatened attack on Iran; the Republican regime’s efforts to take over and thus steal the midterm elections; further monstrous Epstein File revelations and efforts to cover them up; further news of ICE perpetrated murders; as well as various reports of government spying on ICE observers and journalists to intimidate them or charge them with conspiracy.

There were also the Clintons' appearances before Congress, Trump’s State of the Union lies, and the People’s State of the Union event. With all of these important stories, where is one to start?

When adroit attorney and commentator Joyce Vance needs a small break, she writes in her Substack column about her pet chickens.

I do not have chickens. Or a dog. Or a cat.

When I, for a moment, can’t take any more, I turn on the tv in the morning and escape by watching a rerun or so of Leave It to Beaver before getting out of bed to face the day.

I do not watch that show to escape into some unreal but nostalgic middle class past where everyone in the neighborhood was white, the mother wore pearls while preparing dinner, and the worst problems were whether Beaver or older brother Wally ever mildly misbehaved.

In fact, when I first saw Leave It to Beaver (I was about 12 years old; we didn’t buy a TV until then), I disliked it intensely. I felt it was false and ridiculous. The relationships were stilted and facile. There seemed a cavernous divide: me parent, you child. That is, the children never confided in the parents. The parents never really asked the children what was going on. Their little problems would easily have been resolved if they just communicated.

I much preferred Father Knows Best. Though these days, that title might be considered paternalistic, the show was not. That show portrayed a family that had true warmth and real communication. Although of the same era as Leave It to Beaver—the husband went to an office and the wife, Margaret, was a housewife—the marriage was a partnership. The occasional conflicts between them rang true. The children’s problems were never severe but were realistically presented.

But back to Beaver. Why do I watch it now?  Partly because it is there, something easy and non-combative to watch from bed when I wake in the morning. It does not require too much in the way of adrenaline or brain cells. And it has cheerful theme music.

And why am I bothering to write about it? Because, although I still see its flaws, I now see those flaws from a slightly different perspective. 

It is, as I remembered, simplistic. The various episodes seem to be almost parables—short lessons—for right and honorable behavior. And for communication. There are numerous episodes in which the  father, Ward Cleaver, warns Beaver not to do something. Persuaded by his friend Gilbert or Wally’s always conniving friend, Eddie, Beaver does the thing and is afraid to tell his father, making the situation worse. But when Beaver eventually does confess, his father says that he should feel he can always come to him when in trouble.

Although Ward takes pride in his sons’ accomplishments and is disappointed when they fail, he is nevertheless a contrast with the father of Wally’s friend Lumpy, who egotistically sees Lumpy only in terms of how the kid reflects on him.

The punishments Beaver and Wally receive further reflect these differences in family treatment. They usually are lectured or must go to their room. This is repeatedly contrasted with how their friends are treated by their fathers—getting hit or yelled at—sometimes for nothing.

Perhaps the Cleaver family was not meant to represent the norm, but a model to which to aspire.

I still find that model lacking in the complexity a real family navigates, and its lessons too obviously stated. Nevertheless, its goal to teach honesty, fair-dealing, respect for each other, and communication (even if backhandedly set up), makes me judge it a little less harshly this time around. Especially in these days when honesty, fair dealing, kindness, and communication are in such peril.