What Is Childhood Supposed To Be?

Idyllic Summers -vs- Pre-Adulthood

I don’t have children.

I’d like to, one day, and I think a lot about what their childhoods might be like, especially as compared to mine.

I look at reports of teen mental health, at college admission rates and tuition levels. I talk to friends of mine who are teachers and involved with the school districts.

I hear about campaigns to eliminate gifted and talented programs in the name of equity.

And I think there’s an important question at the root of all of this that we’re not quite dealing with, as a society.

What is childhood supposed to be, in the first place?

What Is Childhood Supposed To Be?

I see two competing inclinations, when it comes to how first-world countries conceptualize childhood.

The first is childhood as this Elysian paradise, a time spent free of concern or responsibility. It’s the kind of childhood everyone wants to look back on fondly.

The second is childhood as preparation for adulthood - a time spent studying, learning, and experimenting such that the child is ready for the next step.

These two inclinations are fundamentally incompatible: either children have responsibilities or they don’t. Either their time should be spent preparing for adulthood or it shouldn’t.

Which isn’t to say that either inclination is wrong - both are demonstrably capable of producing fully functional adults. Perhaps there is no “right” answer here. I believe that everyone should be able to raise their children as they see fit - but since these inclinations affect things like schools and colleges, they will have an effect on every child, no matter how their parents choose to raise them.

Childhood as an Idyllic Summer

Because we’re dealing with ideas and ideals here more than a specific, concrete vision of a childhood, I’m going to gesture to what I mean by “childhood as an idyllic summer”, and hope the meaning manages to translate appropriately.

As Stephen King says, writing is telepathy, so here are some attempts to transfer my thoughts into your brain:

• Phrases like “an Indian summer”, “halcyon days”, or “childish innocence”.

• Songs like “Summer of ‘69” and “Boys of Summer”, or even the pop ballads of middle school dances.

• Parents taking care of a skinned knee. Ice cream on a hot day. The adventure around every corner.

• Comfortable and safe. No expectations or responsibilities.

This is the sort of thing one looks back on fondly. It is the heartbeat of nostalgia, the beginning of every coming-of-age story, the underlying truth of every children’s book.

In remembering it the memories are somehow rosy, glowing and golden-hued, a time without stress when every problem was solvable and one’s parents had the solution.

Childhood as Pre-Adulthood

Second verse, same as the first:

• Phrases like “most important time of your life”, “foundational”, “build good habits”.

• Songs like “Baba O’Reilly”, “Smells Like Teen Spirit”.

• Prep school. Cram school. Pressure to excel, to pass classes, to get into honors courses and get good grades.

• Thinking long-term about the future. Got to get into a good college, to get a good job, to have a chance at a good life. Any failure along the path ruins everything.

• Constant comparison and competition. Coming in second at the science fair because some other kid’s parents are nuclear physicists. Math competitions, mock trial team, band practice and sports. Needing to look well-rounded on college applications.

This is a time that emphasizes “firsts”. First kiss, first date, losing one’s virginity. Everything feels like it’s happening right this second, all at the same time. Miss a step and you’re behind forever.

It is looked back on in therapy, while one talks about unrealistic expectations. It is the fodder of art house films, the modern interpretation of a John Hughes movie, the underlying truth of every young-adult dystopia.

When Does Childhood End?

Perhaps the conflict emerges as a child gets older?

Is there some step transition, a moment when a child becomes a teenager and the idyllic summer gives way to concern for the future?

How long is “childhood” supposed to last?

Traditional customs seem to cluster around 13 as the age of transition - the Bar/Bat Mitzvah, the Confirmation, etc., seem to take place around then. And yet no one expects a 13 year old to take on an adult’s role in modern society.

I don’t have a good answer here. Legally childhood ends at 18 - but that seems like a cop-out.

Perhaps I’m focusing too much on the word “childhood”.

Why Does This Matter?

Two things I believe to be true:

1. Any optimization process, if sufficiently strong, will eventually destroy all value not optimized for.

2. College admissions create an optimization pressure on children. In other words, in order to compete for admission to top colleges, children are incentivized to out-compete their peers, who are incentivized to out-compete their peers, and so on.

Taken together, these two statements imply that there is a risk of all value in childhood except that which looks good to college admissions being destroyed.

So what is childhood supposed to be?

The current equilibrium seems to me to be tilting towards the idea that childhoods should be spent squeezing every last academic and extracurricular opportunity for everything they’ve got in the hopes that the opaque and arcane admissions process grants the child entry.

That seems pretty dystopic to me, and not the kind of childhood I want my (future, hypothetical) children to have.

Are there alternatives?

Prediction is hard, especially about the future. By the time I have children and they’re old enough to be going to school, the current equilibrium might be different. Students may all have AI tutors. Curricula may look different. The political climate will certainly be different, though whether it’s an improvement or not is a question for the (future) historians.

What I can say, though, is that I’ve been on the treadmill of good grades and college admissions, and it is not responsible for any of the fond memories I have of my childhood.

There has to exist a happy medium - a childhood spent learning important lessons, that doesn’t feel like a Red Queen’s Race to adulthood.

I wonder what it looks like.