When Jerry and Dorothy Singer come back to their Woodbridge, Conn. home in the evening, like some 40 million American families they sit down in front of the TV set. The Singers, however, are there not to relax but to work.

Both Jerry, 54, and Dorothy, 51, are psychologists with the Yale University Family Television Research and Consultation Center. They have just finished taping a series of lessons aimed at teaching school-age children how to watch TV constructively and critically. The project was funded by a $100,000 grant from ABC, but that has not prevented the Singers from advising kids that sometimes the best TV is no TV at all. They also say three ABC series, Starsky and Hutch, Baretta and The Six Million Dollar Man, are among the worst in bringing out aggressive behavior in children. The Gong Show on NBC is another.

"By aggressive behavior we mean hitting another child and destroying property," Dorothy explains. The goal of their eight 10-minute lessons (each followed by a half hour of discussion)? "We hope," says Jerry, "that children can learn to make some kind of judgment about the quality of what they're watching and turn it off sometimes."

ABC, which made the no-strings-attached grant in May 1978, is so determined to stay in the background that its publicity office refuses to comment on the study. The Singers are, nevertheless, grateful. "It's a gamble for ABC," Jerry points out, "but we were impressed that they do care about how TV affects kids."

The Singers have prepared one lesson that demonstrates how toys can be made to appear bigger and more spectacular through camera angles in commercials. Another explains the difference between documentaries and nightly news programs (a matter of depth). A third reveals how such factors as music, facial expressions and language can turn an innocuous scene into a violent one. The lessons will first be shown in New Haven-area schools this month, and the children will be tested later to see how their viewing habits have changed, if at all.

The Singers got their first TV 20 years ago as a gift, and the only set they own now is a portable black-and-white. The center provides a color receiver for professional viewing. Their three sons, now in their 20s, grew up apparently unaffected by TV, the parents report, watching only about an hour a day—programs like Ding Dong School and later The Mickey Mouse Club. Yet because the Singers' consciousness had not been raised, they did not try to limit or censor the boys' viewing. "They just didn't have an allegiance to TV," Dorothy says.

Nor do their parents. "The only program I feel badly if I miss," says Dorothy, "is Lou Grant." The Singers also liked Roots and often watch PBS, but when they went out of their way to catch the new season's most intensely promoted show, ABC's Battle-star Galactica, they agreed it was a disappointment.

The Singers met in a New York record store in 1948 when both were browsing in the Bach section. Jerry, a New Yorker whose father was a pattern maker in the garment district, spent World War II in Army counterintelligence, interrogating Japanese prisoners in the Philippines. ("I went through the war and never saw a man killed, but my sons and 20 million other people saw Lee Harvey Oswald shot on TV," he observes.) He and Dorothy Gottlieb of Riverdale, N.Y. were married in 1949. Within three years Jerry had his Ph.D. in psychology from the University of Pennsylvania and Dorothy had her master's from New York University. (She later earned her doctorate in education at Columbia.)

While Dorothy worked part-time as a clinical psychologist and full-time as a mother, Jerry was a therapist in VA hospitals, practiced privately and taught. He also developed a considerable reputation for his research into daydreaming. It was a field the young couple came to know more than professionally.

"At one point," Dorothy recalls, "we had financial problems. Jerry had just set up his own practice. The car needed repairs, we had small babies and problems with the house. We daydreamed about simplifying our lives by hiring ourselves out as a cook and a butler, and that daydream helped us turn the corner. Fantasy has always been a part of our lives."

In 1972 the Singers were working as a team, compiling a summary of research on aspects of personality. Intrigued by the development of imagination, they began to wonder how TV-watching affected childrens' play. They studied Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood first, then Sesame Street, finding among other things, says Dorothy, that "kids who have imaginary playmates watch less TV and are more cooperative in school. They're just nicer and less aggressive."

They also discovered, she says, that "while Sesame Street kept a child's attention better, Mr. Rogers stimulated and improved imaginative skills." Jerry predicts, "There's going to be a revolution in TV to break out of the Sesame Street format." Other shows they feel are beneficial to children include Captain Kangaroo, Wild Kingdom, Little House on the Prairie, The Waltons, the syndicated Dusty's Tree-house and two regional shows: Arthur and Company, Miami, Fla., and Max B. Nimble, Cincinnati, Ohio.

One reason the Singers have found it easy to work together over the years is an agreement they made when first married not to bring any professional scrutiny to bear at home. "We never play psychologist with each other or the kids," Jerry says. "We have never tried to be each other's therapist." Adds Dorothy, "Even though we can be more understanding because we know why people do things, you can't intellectualize a relationship. If you're in love, a textbook doesn't help. Emotions will always dominate intelligent thought."

On sabbatical from the University of Bridgeport, Dorothy also works with a volunteer women's group that holds seminars on job hunting. "Dot's an activist but she's not obnoxious," Jerry says. He is a sports fan convinced "Babe Ruth was more fun than Reggie Jackson" and a devoted bird-watcher. Both love music but disagree strenuously on the subject. He plays piano by ear; she still needs music after years of lessons, and it irritates her. Not as much as opera, however. "I'm wild about opera," Jerry laments. "Dot isn't. Opera is the great tragedy of our marriage."

This week's cover

On Newsstands Now!

Saved by the Bell Reunion

The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires

The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!

Get 4 FREE PREVIEW Issues! Click here now