Y.A.R.E: To Keep Kids Off YouTube

by Dale Grant

Of all the iconic logos of the 1990s, one of my favorites is D.A.R.E. To this day, I still rock my vintage (and authentic) threadbare black t-shirt with the iconic red and white text.

For those who are unaware or simply weren’t old enough to experience D.A.R.E., it was a program created to help alert children to the dangers of drugs and alcohol. Taught by local law enforcement, it aimed to build relationships between students and the police while teaching kids strategies for avoiding drugs, alcohol, and other illicit substances. While there are debates about the program’s overall effectiveness, it’s no longer the staple in American schools that it once was.

Now, let me be clear—I’m not criticizing the D.A.R.E. program. I wholeheartedly embraced it growing up. My first Cub Scout Pinewood Derby car was D.A.R.E.-themed, the D.A.R.E. rap song was an absolute banger (I wore out my copy of the casingle), and I was that teen role model who went back to speak to elementary school kids. As someone who saw their best friend spend most of their life in and out of jail struggling with addiction, I believe the program had good intentions. Building quality relationships between local law enforcement and students could go a long way toward restoring some much-needed trust.

So again, this piece isn’t a criticism of D.A.R.E. or the officers who led it. In fact, I’d like to use one of the points the program conveyed—“Marijuana is a gateway drug”—to talk about a very real gateway drug and the dangers surrounding it.

YouTube.

It starts innocently enough. Maybe someone you know and trust shares a clip from a popular children’s TV show on social media. Maybe you don’t have cable, but since Game of Thrones ended, it’s not worth paying for the MAX subscription, but you still want your kids to see that amazing Usher rendition of the alphabet song on Sesame Street. Whatever happens, It always starts out innocently, with good intentions.

But these minor indulgences, left unchecked, will expose your kids to the harder stuff. I’m talking Ryan and his obnoxious entourage, unboxing videos, and before you know it, you’re watching some twerpy dude named Jaxton screaming “smash that subscribe button” while he plays Minecraft.

The peer pressure is intense. Your kids will want to know what a Skibidi Toilet is. Their buddies will throw out the names of their dealers like Preston, LankyBox, and Mr. Beast, and before you know it, they’ll tell you they want to be streamers when they grow up.

For me and my family, it’s too late. My kids are too deep into the streamer abyss, and there’s no turning back. Every now and then, I think I might win them back with the pure awesomeness of Bluey or the nostalgic genius of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. But just when I think I’ve got them, they’re back to watching some screaming jagoff with a million subscribers making significantly more money than me to yell into his camera while building pixelated toilets in Minecraft.

Maybe it’s time for a new program—Y.A.R.E.: YouTube Abuse Resistance Education. We can hold the meetings wherever they sell iced coffee, and who knows? Maybe we’ll even get some cool t-shirts out of it.

(Please note, this post is satire and meant to be all in good fun. It is not meant to make light of anyone struggling with substance abuse. For resources regarding substance abuse you can visit here.