A student intern wheeled me in my black-seated, purple-framed manual wheelchair to a place in Studio J behind a row of television monitors.  Multi-colored cables were looped on the monitor tables and snaked onto the floor.  There was darkness behind me and bright light focused in front of me, on the place where they were taping a few scenes. 

I was completely engaged, taking in the busy environment of Studio J and saw puppeteers wearing headset microphones, kneeling below the camera’s view, holding up their puppets as they said their lines.  From far, I noticed the camera booms were placed at the edge of the staging area. The cameras focused on the people and puppet characters that were following the day’s script.

After watching a scene, I felt a gentle tap as soon as the director loudly called, “Cut!” 

Looking to my right, I saw a red, furry puppet hand on my shoulder. 

“Hi John,” I heard a familiar, squeaky, high-pitched voice say.

“Hi, Elmo,” I replied.   In awe, I touched the top of his furry head.

 I looked below Elmo.  A large, African-American, broad-shouldered man kneeling on the side of my wheelchair was operating Elmo.  I recognized the puppeteer from doing a great deal of research on “Sesame Street”.  I felt I already knew him.  I knew he was the author of the book I had read and brought with me for him to autograph, “My Life as a Furry Red Monster”.   I knew he had created his first puppet from his father’s coat lining when he was ten, and had entertained the children of his mother’s daycare in Baltimore, Maryland.  I knew when he was only in tenth grade, he got his first puppeteering job on a children’s television show.   I remembered reading that when he was seventeen, he was invited to the 1979 Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade to puppeteer on the “Sesame Street” float.  Five years before I was born, he had become an official puppeteer on “Sesame Street”.  Here was Kevin Clash, now also the “Sesame Street” producer who had invited me to Kauffman Astoria Studios, in Queens, New York, where the

wonderful magic of that children’s show takes place. Because of his generosity, I now see television in a whole new way.

When I wrote my letter to the Outreach Coordinator for the “Sesame Street Children’s Television Workshop” seven months before the trip to New York, I did not really expect I would get permission to see an afternoon taping of a “Sesame Street” episode of season forty.  Mr. Clash had reviewed my letter requesting a behind-the-scenes experience as part of my career research in children’s television programming.  Kevin Clash told the Outreach Coordinator if my parents would take me to New York, he would allow me a V.I.P. tour to see how the cast and crew produce one of the most famous children’s television shows. 

My parents were always with me, experiencing the same things, and I wanted someone else to share their perspective with me.  I asked my parents if they would please “stay back” at the set, and let Kevin take over. They agreed.

“John, would you like to meet a cameraman who has worked here since the beginning of the show?” Kevin asked in his own deep voice.  Kevin stood up to his six-foot height, and took Elmo off his hand to lay him over the handle of my wheelchair.

“Sure,” I said, excited and ready to see anything Kevin had to show me.

Kevin wheeled me over to meet Frank Biondo who sat behind his camera in front of the set’s playground area.  He was a gray-haired man wearing sneakers, jeans and an un-tucked shirt.  Frank was friendly and immediately, I felt comfortable talking with him.  He welcomed me to the set and showed me his camera controls.   In a quiet, gentle voice, he proudly told me he had worked “Sesame Street’s” camera one since 1969.  Frank explained that a sheaf of white paper underneath one of his controls was the final script he used to plan his filming for the day.  Frank also told me that when the red light on the monitor of his camera was on, he was shooting a scene.  I sat silently beside Frank; watching at the same time, his black and white monitor and the actual scenes unfolding on the set. 

After Frank was done taping, Kevin pulled a colored monitor near me so I could review with him the final cuts that would next go to the editing department.  Kevin was with me as I sat fascinated for about two hours on the edge of the set behind the cameras.  He shared with me that day the action of the many people involved in taping, correcting errors, and finally, keeping parts of an episode about Big Bird breaking his wing, called “Wing in a Sling”. 

When the filming was over for the day, Kevin gathered the puppeteer cast around me for a souvenir photograph.  Several cast members, wearing their Muppets on their hands and arms, spoke to me.  I recognized many of them, but not all of them.  Connecting the human faces to the Muppets gave me more insight about who did the work below the cameras. After the photo was taken, Kevin quizzed me about which puppeteer operated which puppet.  He was impressed that I knew most of the names of the puppeteers.

Almost all of the cast and the film crew left the studio.  Kevin introduced me to Caroll Spinney, and Erik Jacobson who had stayed behind to give me a tour of Studio J.  Caroll Spinney, who performs Big Bird and Oscar the Grouch, was still wearing the lower half of Big Bird’s pink and orange costume legs. He also still wore, strapped to his chest, the small T.V. monitor he uses inside the 8-foot-tall, yellow-feathered body of Big Bird.  As he patiently led me and Kevin through the lighting equipment and cables to the back of the studio, I noticed Caroll’s natural voice sounded much like Big Bird’s voice.

Kevin wheeled me to the corner in Studio J to show me the show’s famous nest, steps, and trash can.  Kevin placed me behind Oscar’s trash can to show me the mechanism Caroll uses to open and close the lid.  Suddenly, Caroll switched from sounding like Big Bird’s character, and growled in Oscar’s gruff voice,

“Get out of my trash can!” 

He told us he wanted me to hear him voice Oscar even though he was not holding the green puppet at the time.

Next, Kevin wheeled me over to where Eric Jacobson was sitting on a director’s wooden folding chair.  Eric looked like a teenager and was casually wearing a light blue t-shirt and jeans. He had the Grover Muppet on his hand, spoke to me in Grover’s voice, and posed with me for a photograph.  Then Eric put Grover away in a special cabinet where all the other Muppets had been stored earlier.  When Eric returned to us, Kevin interviewed Eric so I could learn more about which characters Eric played.  I learned Eric had taken over many of Frank Oz’s characters.  Besides Grover, he also performed the Muppets, “Miss Piggy”, “Animal”, “Bert” and “Guy Smiley”.

At the end of the studio tour, Kevin told me he had some gifts for me and a special surprise.  He asked if I would wait for him in the hall outside Studio J.  While I waited for Kevin, Leslie Carrara-Rudolph, with her puppet character, “Abby Cadabby,” entertained me and made me laugh.  She spoke in Abby’s whispery, little-girlish voice.

I was amazed when Kevin brought me a gift bag of various “Sesame Street” plush toys, and a sheet of paper autographed by many of the show’s cast.  I thanked Kevin for allowing me the opportunity to see first-hand all that goes into the show before it airs.

The extraordinary experience that day allowed me to see the multi-team effort in the production of an award-winning children’s television show.  Now, watching television, I have a better appreciation for scripting, filming, lighting, directing, editing, and coordinating of people to run a show.  The crew, cast and the people who play the “Sesame Street” characters shared their expertise with me in friendship.  Because Kevin Clash was welcoming, and a thorough guide that day, I now have a fresh perspective when I watch any television show, and am still interested in television production as a career.