Psychologists now call this “incidental learning”—the knowledge we absorb without the intention of studying. By the time I entered high school, my knowledge of geography came more from Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? than from a map. My understanding of historical fashion came from Little Women and Marie Antoinette. My grasp of forensic science came from Law & Order: SVU (accuracy aside).
But the most profound lesson my first teacher—entertainment content—ever gave me was this: Everyone has a story.
Popular media is storytelling. And storytelling is the oldest form of teaching. Before the printing press, bards and troubadours taught lessons through song. Before television, families gathered around radios for serial dramas. The screen is just the latest vessel for the same ancient lesson: You are not alone. Others have felt this. Here is what they did.
There is an old saying that you never forget your first teacher. But in the modern age, for many of us, our "first" teacher wasn’t standing at a chalkboard in a brick-and-mortar school. They were on our television screens, in our movie theaters, or inside the pages of a comic book.
Long before we understood algebra or history, we learned about the concept of authority, mentorship, and knowledge from entertainment content. From the wise guidance of Master Po in Kung Fu to the strict discipline of Miss Trunchbull in Matilda, popular media acts as a primary educator, teaching us what to expect from the educational system before we ever set foot in a classroom.
Standardized tests measure math and reading. Entertainment content measures the soul.
I distinctly remember watching The Lion King in a darkened living room. That is where I learned about death. Not in a clinical, biological way, but in an emotional, spiritual way. When Simba whispered, “But dad, we’re pals,” and Mufasa didn’t answer, my tiny heart understood loss. Mufasa was my first teacher explaining that love doesn’t vanish, even when a body does.
Similarly, The NeverEnding Story taught me about depression (The Swamp of Sadness) before I had a word for it. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off taught me about carpe diem. Star Wars taught me that redemption is possible, even for a man in a black mask and cape.
Popular media provides a safe sandbox for dangerous emotions. You can experience fear, jealousy, rage, and heartbreak from the safety of your couch. That emotional rehearsal is a form of education that no chalkboard can replicate.