What It Means to Be a Little Kid

My older kid, A, is four years old. From around two years old, they started rejecting the idea of being "small." Unless they're specifically choosing to play that way, they hate being called a baby, a little kid, too young to do whatever it is they want to do.

Even at two years old they were able to tell me that being little meant hearing "no," all the time. No to exploring the city on their own, no to staying up all night, no to skipping bathtime, no to driving the car, no, no, no, no. Being little means no to things that adults can do all the time. Being little means suffering a thousand little indignities every day because the world simply isn't built to accommodate you.

So of course A wants to be seen as big. Bigness means autonomy; bigness means being taken seriously. They are constantly affirming their own bigness in conversation. They're always asking why "little" has to mean "no."

A isn't alone. I've spent my whole life taking care of kids - they're always trying to abandon things that are "babyish." They're aware of all the ways childhood restricts them. And as much as we try to justify those restrictions by pointing to their supposedly immature brains or underdeveloped decision-making skills or lack of experience, they can sense that something is off.

When A asks me why "little" has to mean "no," I don't give bullshit answers that naturalize children's oppression. I don't believe that children are underdeveloped proto-humans; I believe they are full humans forced into subordination by a complex structure of legal, political, social, and economic restrictions. I believe that children are targeted for extra restrictions in capitalist society because capitalism can't maintain itself without a constant stream of willing and compliant productive and reproductive workers.

And I know that even as I believe this, I can't break the chain of children's oppression alone. If I refuse to teach A and K the rules and norms of capitalist society, I won't just be doing them a disservice - I'll be actively putting all of us at undue risk. If I allow them more autonomy than the government deems appropriate, we will all face the legal and extralegal consequences. (Black mothers know this especially well.) I do what I can within the restrictions I have, but even those boundaries are shrinking every year, and relying on "parents' rights" to enable children's autonomy is deeply foolish. But my ability to do any more than this depends on a collective movement that understands the need for children's liberation. I need more support than I have.

This is what I tell A and K, in whatever way they can understand. I'm not out to traumatize them; I want them to have the vocabulary to articulate what is happening to them. So far, they've taken it as well as can be expected. I wonder how they'll feel about it when they're older.