The Jersey Shore brings together four male and four female 20-something Italian-Americans to spend the summer at a party house on the Shore. It’s a little like The Real World, only without The Real World’s redeeming diversity of ethnicity, sexual orientation, and socioeconomic background…or the slightest trace of intelligence.

I protested watching the show until an orange-ish bronze Hulk-child named Mike lifted his shirt and stated proudly, “My abs are so ripped, I call them ‘The Situation.’ Hate all you want, but what can you say to a guy who looks like Rambo with his shirt off?” Snickering and slightly sedated by “The Situation’s” blatently cocky statements, Pauly D’s wonderous blow-out hairstyle, and the intoxicating scent of fake-and-bake that seemed to eminate from the television, I spent the remainder of the show mindlessly enjoying the antics and apparent vapidness of these self-proclaimed “guidos” and “guidettes.”

But, when the show ended and the preview for the next episode ran, I was horrified to see a muscular non-castmember (male), encited by the insults of the smallest female castmember (nicknamed “Snooki”), punch her straight in the jaw. Cut to him in handcuffs, being led to a police car. Cut to her on the floor, covering her bleeding face. Cut to me no longer smiling, covering my open mouth. When I expressed my shock at the first time I’d seen a man punch a woman, I was further shocked by my friends’ response.

“Calm down, Shannan, it’s just TV.”

“Stop reading into it so much! It’s just ___!” Insert the morally ambiguous media outlet of your choice. We’ve all heard this protest from our children, students, even friends. Young people are notoriously willing to accept media as pure entertainment — to the point that even reality shows are dismissed as fictional fodder. But the Snooki incident is a dramatic reminder that even television shows have real-life consequences.

As it turns out, The Jersey Shore has earned the real-world criticism of the Italian-American Association UNICO, who condemns the show for its sterotypical depiction of Italian-Americans and its free and abundant use of the word “guido” — a derogatory term for working-class Italians. After reading about this controversy, I was surprised that, as an Italian-American, I hadn’t even considered the effect this show might have on me, personally. Regardless, The Jersey Shore‘s depiction of a stereotype-enforcing “subculture” of a particular ethnicity has sparked a debate over the real-world effects of television.

The Jersey Shore may be mindless, but your conversation surrounding it doesn’t have to be. The controversies with Snooki and UNICO serve as great conversation starters with your kids or students to get them thinking about our willingness to accept media as fictional or inconsequential.

Here are some great questions to get them thinking:

• Why do you think that MTV used the Snooki incident as advertising? What were your and your friends’ reactions to it? Did you want to see the episode because of it?
• The video was spread all over the internet. Why do you think it spread so quickly?
• How do you think that MTV should’ve handled the incident? What should they have done with the footage?
• What should the consequences be for the man who punched Snooki? Should they be any more severe than a man who punched a woman off air?
• What does “guido” mean? Is it an offensive word to Italian-Americans? Should it be?
• Does the show affect how you feel about Italian-Americans? What about people from New Jersey, or people who resemble those on the show?

Clareece “Precious” Jones, a 16-year-old illiterate, obese young woman, is kicked out of high school for being pregnant for the second time with her father’s child. Her mother is an abusive crack addict who fills her days with watching television in her Harlem apartment and telling Precious that she’s too dumb and fat to succeed, so she better go to the Welfare Office instead of the alternative school suggested by her public school principal.

In one of Precious’ voiceovers, she quotes Ms. Rain, the teacher of her alternative ed literacy course: “‘even the longest journey begins with a single step’ — whatever that means.” This film is a painstaking look at the obstacles an (extremely) “out of the box” young woman faces in order to take her first step towards developing her voice and, consequently, her sense of dignity. Though Precious’s obstacles seem a compilation of worst-case-scenarios of poverty — obesity, rape, illiteracy, abuse, and humiliation in school — her isolation, love/hate relationship with the images of grandeur and femininity on television, and desire to be inside the box ring true to many, regardless of socioeconomic status.

Precious’s relationship with television is as turbulent as it is familiar. “I want to be on the cover of a magazine,” Precious says, narrating her aspirational relationship with media, “I wish I had a light skinned boyfriend with real nice hair. But first, I wanna be in one of them BET music videos.” During her most traumatic moments, Precious dreams in television, imagining herself as a beloved movie star, a glam music video dancer, and even an Italian actress. However, these images of perfection have dire consequences for her self esteem; in one particularly heartbreaking depiction of self-rejection, Precious sees white, thin, glamourous blonde woman in her own reflection. As in the lives of many girls her age, the television is both her escape and her tormenter.

By forming solid (though sometimes antagonistic) relationships with the other “out of the box” women in her alternative ed class, learning to read and write, and even having her second child, Precious learns to speak her truth. The movie doesn’t end with Precious earning her college diploma or making more money than Oprah. Instead, while she still has miles to go, Precious has made the first step — learning to stand up for herself with words. Where the film began with a silent high schooler resorting to physical violence to express her anger, it ends with her stating her rights, capabilities, and independence.

Precious is a strong character who fights to take her first step out of hell. For young people or those who struggle, she is an incredible role model. However, this movie is (appropriately) rated R, and is thus directed at adults — adults who could change the lives of children like Precious. I was therefore so disappointed to discover that the adult role models in the film are unfamiliar, seemingly unattainable, and underdeveloped.

Precious is so inspiring largely due to her complexity and faults that make her relatable. However, the adults that surround her are strictly saints or demons, and their appearances and characteristics exemplify the “in the box/out of the box” framework. Her evil parents are overweight, uneducated, and makeup-less. The “savior” characters — a male nurse played by Lenny Kravitz, a social worker played by Mariah Carey, and the alternative ed teacher played by Paula Patton — fit inside their gender boxes almost perfectly. Thin, light skinned, educated, and unrelentingly supportive, the savior characters never hesitate to cross the boundaries of their respective professions for Precious’ betterment. In one scene, Precious’ classmates look on as Kravitz kisses Precious’s forehead while she sits on her hospital bed. Movieworld: touching moment; realworld: touching lawsuit.

Though the film may miss its mark with the adults, I still highly recommend preparing for the semi-permanence of your oh-my-god face and seeing the movie with a group of open-minded adult friends. When the shock begins to wear, enjoy your Crossfire-esque debate over the many implications of this film. Though this might not be an ideal teaching tool for kids in a school setting because of the movie’s ‘R’ rating, but it offers wonderful fodder for adult conversation.

If you choose to see the movie, use these questions as a starting point:

• Is television a positive or negative influence in Precious’ life? How does it function in her relationship with her mother?
• How is food depicted in the film? Why does everybody keep talking about McDonald’s?
• What role does humor have in the film — both for the characters and the audience?
• How are the relationships between the alternative education class helpful and harmful? How are they different from those shown at Precious’ public school? How does Ms. Rain diffuse confrontation?
• What role does Ms. Rain play in Precious’ development? How does she help Precious succeed? Is this a realistic depiction of a great teacher, and what can you learn from her methods?
• Why is this film opening in select cities? Who is the target audience? Bonus: Who was in the theater with you?
• How does the film support and debunk gender and racial expectations?