Thank you for your childhood

One of my very favorite books from my youth is "The Giver" by Lois Lowry. It provokes considerable thought about social structure, rights, and identity. I'm always struck by how much this book causes me to cling to my free will and expression of emotions but also conjures the surfacing of a guilty craving for simplicity that has a price tag we can't match.

The society in this book functions under a very specific set of principles - precision of language, daily dream sharing, pills to suppress "stirrings", and adherence to the rules of the life assignment given at the ceremony of the Elevens. At this ceremony, as the youth transition into their lifelong work, they are told "thank you for your childhood". It is both a genuine acknowledgment of their youth but also a shift into greater contributions to society.

In both The Giver and real life, we often view adulthood as being more than childhood and measure children on a scale of achieving "adultness" (for more on this, I recommend Emily Plank's Discovering the Culture of Childhood). But what if that's not quite right? What if childhood is more and adulthood is simply the unfortunate letting go of the gifts of childhood that we justify with productivity, money, and adult responsibilities?

Children bring endless amounts of joy to our lives with their playfulness, their easy sense of humor, and the delight they find in the simplest moments. They aren't as bound to schedules, time, and responsibilities. The are free from judgement and anger-fueled grudges. They are guided by biological cues, close relationships, curiosity, and simply what feels good.

What if childhood isn't merely to prepare us for adulthood? What if our youngest years are the peak of our lives?

I was thinking about this a lot today as I was watching my sons play. My oldest spent over three hours playing in the snow. Periodically coming in to ask for dinosaurs, and spray bottles with colored water, and helicopters, and the list goes on. He never asked what time it was and never got tired or cold. His play isn't unlike most children, but it is certainly unlike the way I structure my day - tasks, timelines, guilt over procrastination, and so forth. And I started to think of all the things my sons' childhood bring to my life for which I'm extremely grateful.

To my young sons, thank you for filling my life with laughter, for asking me questions that make me learn something new everyday, for your energy that drives me to try and keep up, for the late night wake-ups that remind me of the deep connection we share and how fleeting and precious these moments can be. Thank you for prioritizing play over cleanliness, for sharing your made up stories so I can be a brief guest in your imaginary world, and for making me pause and give notice to things I'd otherwise overlook. Thank you for being unapologetically you, for sharing your perspective with the world, and for making each moment better just by being you.

I know, without question, my life is better because of their presence in my life. The daily reminder that childhood is important, valid, and precious as it's own phase of life, not simply in preparation for the next one. And by embracing their "childness" without comparison to "adultness" my life is richer, more magical, and for a short time, I'm brought back to my own precious childhood.

My dear sons, a million thanks. Thank you for these gifts. Thank you for your childhood.