Season 2, Episodes 1 and 2 - When Doves Cry

Original Airdate - September 29th, 2002

Welcome back to Degrassi! It’s season two and everything is completely— the same. All of our season one cast is back and it doesn’t seem like summer changed anyone. After a last minute decision to close a nearby high school, Degrassi now runs grades 7-12. It’s crowded, and Liberty may not get to take over student council. But look on the bright side — all of our cast stays together and we can use the same sets and teachers.

We ended last season with a lot of cliffhangers, and they are frustratingly unaddressed. Sean and Jimmy have beef, no one but Terri is talking to Ashley, and season one power couple Emma and Sean are icy at best. The hour-long premiere has only a passing mention of all of this. Much like Emma, its attention is focused squarely on new character Craig Manning.

We open on Emma (who has braces now!) playing in the park with Angela “Angie” Jeremiah, the daughter of Degrassi The Old Generation character Joey and his late wife, Julia. We met Angie briefly in the premiere episode and, fun fact, the actress is the little sister of the actress who plays Manny. A weird teen boy is taking pictures of Emma and Angie, and its honestly an extremely creepy way of introducing someone into your show.

I really struggle with Craig. Mostly because of how he is introduced. Craig is the only new series regular this season (not counting Joey because adults don’t count). I really hate it when a new character is introduced into an ensemble show and they become the focus of everything. The characters are demanding that I play with Buzz Lightyear, but I was actually very happy with Sheriff Woody.

We’re going to meet a lot of new friends this season who are introduced in the ideal Degrassi fashion - slowly emerging from the background or as supporting characters in a series regular’s plot. I love when a new Degrassi character pays their dues before taking center stage for their own episode. But that is not what Craig does. I am going to try very hard to not hold it against Craig that the show is demanding I instantly care about him.

Because Craig is in a very tough situation! He arrives home late for dinner and his father, Albert, flips. We see a hint of his anger as he smashes a plate of food against the wall. The next morning, when Craig’s dad drops him off for his first day of Grade 9, Albert is kind and acts like nothing happened. Yikes.

Emma and Manny have instant crushes on the new older boy, and Craig makes a friend in Sean. Craig is a bit of a distracted slacker, and feels a kinship with the fellow outsider. After school, he heads to a playground to take more pictures of Angie and we get more of the story. Craig is not a random creep, he’s actually Angie’s half-brother. They don’t see each other often. Albert, still bitter about his wife leaving him for Joey, hasn’t arranged any way for them to get together after Julia’s death.

Craig makes Angie promise not to tell Joey they saw each other, but when Angie and her dad head to her mom’s grave, she lets it slip. She’s like five who can blame her. Joey spots Craig who has followed Angie to the cemetery and is taking pictures of them. Joey tries to talk to his former step-son, but Craig runs off.

In his basement dark room, Craig makes composite photos of himself with Joey and Angie captioned “The Perfect Family.” He makes sure to hide them from his dad. At dinner, Craig learns that Joey called Albert, and that makes Craig very nervous. He assures his father that he won’t leave like his mom did.

Emma and Manny are talking about how cool and hot Craig is when he approaches them. He reminds Emma that they’ve met — they danced together at Joey and Julia’s wedding. Realizing who he is, Emma invites him to her mom’s birthday party that night. She’ll be babysitting Angie during the festivities because Joey isn’t supposed to come. Perfect! Craig says he’ll go.

Albert shows up at Joey’s used car dealership and they have a tense encounter. Joey wants to come up with an arrangement for Angie and Craig to spend time together, but Albert shuts him down. Craig is having a great time with Angie at Christine’s party when Joey shows up unexpectedly. We get a drive by line from Mr. Simpson that implies that he and Christine have grown closer, but more on that tomorrow.

Joey pulls Craig aside while Emma listens on. Joey is happy to see him, but doesn’t want to go against Albert’s wishes. Craig acts casual as he leaves, but both Emma and Joey can perceive some tension. Craig arrives home to a brooding father. He goes to his dark room to escape, but it’s been trashed by his dad. Albert confronts Craig about seeing Angie and savagely beats him, kicking his stomach and breaking his camera.

Craig is left with some gnarly bruises the next day. Albert gives him a wad of cash for a new camera. No hard feelings, right? Craig agrees, but is clearly not well. Craig and Sean (shirtless!) play basketball, and when Sean accidentally grazes his bruise, Craig flips out on him.

Emma finds him and says she doesn’t agree with Joey. She thinks he and Angie should get to hang out, and since she’s babysitting that afternoon, she’s happy to provide cover. Angie wants to go to the park, but Emma has homework. Craig convinces her to let him take Angie to the park solo.

While they’re playing, Angie sees Craig’s bruises. He makes up a story about a dinosaur that’s been hurting him and in an impulsive moment, says they should use the money he got to go to British Columbia where they used to live when Julia was alive. Joey comes to Emma’s and finds out what Emma did. He makes it to the park just in time to stop Craig from buying bus tickets. Craig tries to play it all off as a joke, but when Joey sees the money, he knows it’s serious. He tells Craig that he agrees with Albert. Craig should stay away from Angie.

At home, Craig tries to get a little more money out of Albert, but when Joey calls, Craig knows he’s in danger. He runs upstairs locking himself in his bedroom with a chain lock. He calls Sean and makes plans to come over, escaping out the window as Albert beats down the door with a golf club.

Sean and Craig hang out at a train yard, and Craig asks Sean about his relationship with his parents. Sean is smart enough to catch the implication of Craig’s questions, and asks if Craig’s dad hits him. Craig brushes the question off and says they should run away together to Vancouver. Sean is really concerned that Craig is in bad shape, especially when Craig decides to play chicken with an oncoming train. Sean saves his life and Craig runs off, leaving his bag.

Sean goes to Emma. They put aside their tension to help Craig and tell Joey that Sean suspects abuse. When Angie mentions the bruises, Joey is convinced. He and Sean head off to find Craig leaving Emma with Angie and Craig’s stuff. She thumbs through his photo album and clues Joey in on where to find the troubled teen.

Joey finds Craig saying goodbye to his mother at her grave before skipping town. Craig yells at Sean for ratting on him, but Joey calms him down. He asks if Albert is hurting him, and Craig breaks down. Joey embraces him, finally giving Craig the adult support he needs. Joey arranges for Craig to move in with him. When Craig comes for his stuff, Albert tries to convince him to stay. Craig says that Albert either lets Craig move in with Joey or Craig will report him, and Albert responds by downplaying the abuse. Craig stands his ground, driving away from his home to his new life with the Jeremiahs.

Whew! That was a lot for one hour! And guess what? There’s a B story too. JT is thrilled that the high schoolers have come to Degrassi because he’s after an older woman. Toby uses a weird computer algorithm to convince him to go for Terri, but that’s not enough of a challenge for JT. He has his eyes set on Paige Michalchuk.

Paige is having some very serious struggles of her own. A bad haircut has left her with something of a mullet and she’s $30 short of getting it fixed. Her parents want her to clean out the garage for the rest of the money. As if! Plus that little weirdo grade 8 JT asks her out in front of Hazel and Spinner. Embarrassing!

But Spinner and Hazel think its funny and offer her a deal. If she goes on a date with JT, they’ll fork up the money to fix her hair. Paige reluctantly accepts, and tells JT he can take her to dinner and a movie. She shows up late, in a hoodie and sunglasses, but JT takes this in stride. He gives her a cute stuffed bear and tries to hold her hand in the theater.

As they hit the food court afterwards, something unexpected happens. They actually start getting along. They’ve both got wit and humor and make each other laugh. Hazel and Spinner walk up, shocked. She’s not actually having a good time with this loser, right? They pay her right in front of JT, who feels like shit, and Paige walks off, leaving the bear.

The following Monday at school, Paige finds him and apologizes. It wasn’t nice of her to use him that way, and she feels guilty. As penance, Paige admits that while she would never go out with him ever again, he was a fun date and should feel good about himself. He convinces her to give him a cheek kiss and gives her back the bear. A lovely cute side story to balance out the darkness surrounding our new friend Craig.

When it comes to relatability, Degrassi episodes usually hit a few common targets. Some are just not my experience at all, but ring true. Some are experiences I recognize from others in my life, but don’t personally connect to. Some are so far out there or Canadian or time-bound that I struggle to think they’re realistic. And the rest are things I do find relatable, even where my individual version of the matter at hand is a skewed.

This episode is in a weird, different space for me. An uncanny valley of relatability. There are things I recognize and find familiar, and so much I don’t. It’s hitting me exactly in an uncomfy place where I have to admit I see my own story in the episode, while feeling an overwhelming urge to say “but not really.” “Not like that.” “It wasn’t that bad.”

It happened so literally as I was just drafting this essay. I was writing a joke about how my dad didn’t even own a golf club, when I remembered the times he took our bedroom doors off the hinges after particularly nasty fights. Less violent, but the same message. You can’t hide from me. You can’t run from me. If I want you to suffer, you will.

My dad was abusive. My therapist will be very proud of me for saying that. I wouldn’t have described it that way until recently. In part because of depictions of abuse that were like this. My dad was not like Albert Manning. He never hit me. Well, he never beat me. He used his words.

I realize that not every parent who takes a child’s bedroom door away is abusive. I’m sure there are many parents who find their child is violating their trust and doing things they shouldn’t be in their closed bedrooms or parents concerned about a child’s safety. I can’t say I think it’s a great method of parenting, but I’m not a child psychologist. What do I know? My dad only did this after we tried to hide from his scolding. It was different. I think.

One thing this episode hits squarely on the head is how impossible it is to tell anyone what’s happening. The loyalty you feel towards a parent who quite literally keeps you alive is overwhelming. It’s evolutionary loyalty. Your hormones say protect them, you need them. It captures other adults’ understanding that this accusation is serious and requires big action and intervention and disruption. They want to be sure before they take that action. They’re not particularly eager to catch your little hints. I resonated with those things.

One place it loses me is that Craig’s dad is so cartoonishly and clearly abusive. There is no black and white here. I’m not saying that doesn’t happen, it obviously does. But it was so different than my experience. So much of my childhood living with abuse, and my adulthood trying to process it, was an internal battle about what counted. Where was the line between mean and abusive? Where was I just too sensitive? I can’t relate to Craig because I’m jealous that he knows so clearly this is wrong.

I’m dancing around what actually happened, sorry. We covered the door thing, and you want the good stuff. Let’s unpack the distinction between hitting a kid and beating a kid. How can I expect you to explore the lines between abuse and bad parenting if I won’t give you the evidence of both sides?

Unfortunately, I think it would be really bad for me to try to prove myself or validate my experience in an essay on the internet. It would trigger me. Take me right back to conversations with other family members and trusted adults who I knew witnessed him who didn’t save me. They knew I was hurt, and they felt that was bad. They clearly didn’t think it crossed a line or they would have done something, right? In the tv show, someone does something. When people find out, they try to save you.

He was mean. Cruel. He yelled. We were never good enough. We could never do the right thing. He got angry. He got personal. I was fat, lazy, stupid, frou frou. He never actually called me a faggot, but only because he acted like I wasn’t one even when we both knew I was. He demanded we witnessed his anger. We needed to validate his attacks. He was right, dammit, and the sooner we got that in our stupid brains, the sooner we could be a person worth existing. Why did I think I was so smart? Why did I think I knew any thing at all? I was real proud of myself for such an entitled child who couldn’t do anything right. There was no change we could make that would soothe him or stop the anger or make him less cruel.

And when we really needed him, he showed up, and that made it all so much harder. It wasn’t like the money for the new camera. It wasn’t a bribe. Out of nowhere, when capital-F Fatherhood was required, he was there. I don’t know what to do with that part.

I tried to google whether there was any sort of child psychology consensus on this door thing and, let me tell you, people have big opinions on this. The answer seems to be “it’s not great but it’s not abuse but it’s bad but maybe sometimes fine?” Definitely didn’t help.

I came of age as a writer at a time where mining your personal challenges and trauma was very en vogue. Writing what you know, a good piece of advice to help a writer communicate truth, became bleed on the page. Show us your scars, and if you don’t have any, how can you even be a writer? If you don’t have enough shitty experiences, go get some!

I think that’s so stupid. I think it’s very important as a writer to be selective about what of yourself you are putting on the page and how you’re going about it. Trying to expose something that isn’t ready or gets too personal is psychologically damaging and often leads to bad work.

I don’t really write about abusive dads. I have, but it’s not something I draw upon often. It doesn’t excite me. It doesn’t inspire me. Sometimes I don’t feel like that is my story to tell. Sometimes I don’t feel like my story is anyone’s business.

I have talked about it in therapy. It happened. I can say that in an essay with only three or four paragraphs of capitulation and qualification. I’m okay now. I’m safe and I’m healing. I don’t really want to write about it.

Seems I don’t really want to watch an episode of television about it either.