Every year, as Father’s Day and Mother’s Day roll around, prompting a brief, often begrudging acknowledgment from children for their parents’ tireless efforts, the question inevitably arises, usually tinged with resentment: “Why isn’t there a children’s day?” The standard, somewhat dismissive answer is always, “Because every day is children’s day.” Then, a surprising discovery – there actually is a Children’s Day, National Children’s Day on 15 May.
One imagines the intention behind National Children’s Day is to shine a light on children facing hardship and neglect. However, a cynical mind might suspect that informing many contemporary children of this special day would simply lead to expectations of even greater indulgence. Interestingly, the press release for the day focuses on “adult wellbeing … adult happiness … and [adult] mental health in the UK,” which seems at odds with the presumed focus on children.
Adult happiness – now there’s a concept many parents could get behind. Yet, it seems disconnected from the suggested methods for achieving this “adult wellbeing” and raising “heartful and mindful” children. These methods include “a playing out day for local families, carrying out daily random acts of kindness during the week, holding a street party, and ‘a go home on time’ week for working parents to spend time with the family.” These activities, while pleasant, appear to be geared more towards children’s enjoyment than profound adult wellbeing.
Perhaps this perspective sounds a bit jaded. Recent personal experiences have contributed to a less-than-“mindful and heartful” state. A family outing to experience The Complete Walk of Shakespeare’s plays along London’s South Bank turned sour. After walking for some time, screens with seating were a welcome sight. While the author’s wife and younger daughters found chairs, he, being chairless and weary at 60 years old, asked his nine-year-old, Louise, to share her seat. She initially relented, but quickly demanded her chair back. Upon refusal, he was met with vehement protests, not just from Louise, but from his wife and older daughter, who accused him of being selfish. The resulting atmosphere was far from “heartful,” leaving him seeking solace in the dramatic excerpts from King Lear.
This sense of shifting priorities was further highlighted on the tube ride home. A young couple offered their seats to two children, around seven years old. This seemingly small act reflects a significant generational shift. It wasn’t long ago that children were expected to offer their seats to adults.
The most significant power shift in recent generations has been, rightfully, from men to women. The evolving dynamic of parental power, tilting increasingly towards children, may be a related phenomenon. However, this modern veneration of children can feel bordering on the Family Perverse – even as one deeply loves their own children.
In a world where traditional ideologies, romance, and even faith seem to be waning, perhaps children have become the new focal point for our aspirations and devotion. They may have become the modern idols we unconsciously worship. If this is the case, children are arguably better objects of veneration than abstract deities or fleeting romantic notions. Yet, this elevation of children doesn’t negate the feeling that they are, at times, excessively indulged. Even for a devoted parent, faith in this child-centric approach can occasionally falter.
One can only hope that future generations, raised in this environment, will possess the heartfulness and mindfulness to forgive the parental generation for any perceived shortcomings in navigating this evolving family landscape.
