Turning Off TV Gives Child a New View of Life : A mother decides to put an end to cartoons and even ‘Sesame Street’ for her toddler. The result: ‘a calmer, more imaginative boy wondering at the world . . . and a lot more hard work as a parent.’

I’m the mother of a 4-year-old boy, and I am a radical.

I have shoved Mickey, Donald, Superman, Yogi Bear, Mr. Rogers, Underdog and, yes, even “Sesame Street” out of my house.

I did what I suspect many parents think of doing. I banned the tube, aside from a few carefully picked shows on sick days.

I thought it was a sensible, even innocuous way to control my child’s environment. But it wasn’t long before a friend berated me for not introducing my son to Mr. Rogers, thus passing up a chance to infuse moral values into him.

Another friend dealt the ultimate blow: “You didn’t grow up watching TV, so you can’t understand the importance and magic of Disney cartoons.”

Take a stand against the glow box and people get more animated than they would about national defense. Television is the stuff middle America is made of.

Of course, if my child was within earshot of these friendly spats, he chirped, “Is TV on now? Let’s go to Jimmy’s house. He watches TV and he has pink Nestle’s Quik.”

Why my hostility to TV? Cartoons and children’s programs are violent, ugly or foolish--or all three at once. Children 2 to 6 years of age are all energy and curiosity, ready to experience everything. It is bad to have them sit, watch and shut up. And the electronic pictures are addictive.

When I want a baby-sitter, I hire a live one. At least my child can interact with another human being, ask questions, answer some, take a walk around the block.

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I did not zap TV immediately. I gave it a chance. For about a year and a half I allowed kiddie programs or videos for one hour or less.

“Sesame Street” seemed a perfect choice. The problem was I got dizzy after 20 minutes of that restless, chaotic jumble of alphabet, rap, geometrical shapes, politically correct diversity and preachy songs about healthy foods.

My son, formerly a ball of inquisitive energy, turned into a lump of transfixed attention.

Since I did not take haphazard regurgitation of letters as a sign that he had learned something, I was not impressed by the educational claims of the show.

Two- and 3-year-olds need grown-ups to show and explain the world to them: the taste of cookie dough, the feel of dirt and sand, the smell of flowers and dinner cooking. When they are “all grown up,” about 6 years old, they’ll be ready for the alphabet. Until then, they don’t need to see it marching by on television.

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Scratch tele-learning. I settled for what I thought was innocent entertainment. After all, my child had a right to the wonderful world of Disney, Hanna Barbera and Warner Bros.

Pretty soon it looked as though cartoons had a right to him. Even an occasional dose of Donald and his nephews beating up on one another, the Roadrunner flattening Coyote, Daffy Duck or Bugs Bunny took root. Youngsters might not learn from television, but they will get imprinted.

I tried damage control. “Coyotes are really quite smart, you know,” I said. “In fact, if you ever see one, run away.”

“Oh, Mom, don’t worry. I’ll kill him with a big stone,” my son said. He was too young to handle the magic of animation. Besides, I could never forgive Tweety Bird for teaching him to pull my cat’s tail, making the top of the fridge the animal’s sole refuge.

I pulled the plug on TV, and we did a lot of cooking, gardening, painting, dressing up, running around and story telling, until my son entered preschool.

I might have my way in the living-room, but Superman and Batman juniors lurked in the schoolyard. My kid quickly saw the light and became one of them, the Batman-Turtle gang. Driving home there was big talk, gun noise and mayhem coming from the booster seat in the back of the car.

One no-nonsense mother, more experienced than I was, assured me: “Aggressivity is really in them. It’s good for them to be exposed to all kinds of behaviors and learn to cope. That’s what real life is all about. At least the Turtles are fighting the bad guys.” Never mind that the bad guys were the ones with the wrong headband.

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I switched to a school where teachers dare ask parents to turn off television. When my little Capt. Hook waves his saber too much, I disarm him peacefully by hunting with him for magic gold or a lost treasure in the sand, or dressing him up in a cape for garden exploration. The all-nasty cartoon version has lost his voice, so true fantasy has moved back in.

I now have a calmer, more imaginative boy wondering at the world . . . and a lot more hard work as a parent.

Once my son is asleep, if the day has left me too exhausted to read, I may turn on the television. It’s OK--I know how to shut it off.