Viewing Children as Our Peers
Including children in world-making
At “Writing Under the Writing,” I explore ideas related to my writing practices and projects. While this connection to my writing is implicit, sometimes the posts may feel like a random smattering of thoughts. In order to make my posts a little more coherent, I’ve decided to start adding a paragraph or two about why I am writing on a given topic.
In my project A Darker Travel, a bereaved father visits heaven in his dreams. Every night he picks up where he left off the night before. He hopes to see his deceased son, but he is told early on that he won’t meet his son until the final night of the dream, one year later. In the meantime, he gets a “tour” of sorts. This week’s post is a reflection on how the parent-child relationship transforms in the afterlife, and how that “eternal” transformation could change parent-child relationships in the here and now on earth.
At the memorial service for our firstborn son, Allison and I spoke in front of those gathered. Here is one thing I shared:
Though Emerson was my son in the flesh, he has always been a child of God and my brother in Christ. I had the gift of being his father and taking care of him for a short time on earth, and now that season has ended. I am deeply grieved that I cannot continue to be his father here on this earth, to watch him grow and to grow with him, but I do have joy that in the Kingdom of God, we are brothers and equals, and when I see Emerson next, he may be the one teaching me a thing or two.
Emerson was my biological son, but he precedes me into death, into the afterlife. On earth, I cared for him, I taught him things, I introduced him to new experiences. But in heaven, he will be the guide for me.
I heard someone say once that “God has no grandchildren.” In other words, everyone is a child of God; that relationship does not require the mediation of a parent. Perhaps at first, a parent may guide a child to faith, but eventually, the child comes to recognize the relationship with God that is already there. Of course, the parent’s “mediation” is important, insofar as we are all mediators for each other. I see something of God in you; you see something of God in me.
Paul says that in God’s family, there is no more “male nor female, slave nor free, Jew nor Greek” (Galatians 3:26–28). That is, the social distinctions that determine our earthly life no longer apply in heaven, in God’s new creation.
Jesus seems to make the same point in the Gospels, applying it to families: “Whoever does not hate father or mother or sister or brother cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26). When his mother and siblings try to reach him through a crowd, Jesus responds, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” He looks at his disciples and says, “Here are my mother and my brothers! Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother” (Mark 3:31–35).
In God’s new creation, we have different kinship relations. The parent-child relationship, I think—this is my conjecture—will still play a role, inasmuch as we recognize each other by our earthly relationships. But the importance of those relationships, the social distinctions, the power dynamics (elder-younger; parent-child) we associate with them, will fade away. We will all be siblings in heaven, peers, equals. I will not have “authority” over my child nor “maturity” nor “better wisdom,” etc. Emerson and I will be siblings.
If this is the way it will be in the new heaven and new earth, could we live into that reality now? Could I view my children, both living and dead, as peers, as equals, as my siblings? There is mutuality, equality, a give-and-take of teaching, learning, listening, loving, adventuring. I’ve written one piece about how Finley has been a source of healing, a source of church-return for us.
I’m working my way through a book on Indigenous worldviews right now called Restoring the Kinship Worldview: Indigenous Voices Introduce 28 Precepts for Rebalancing Life on Planet Earth. In a chapter about hierarchical versus egalitarian models of relationship, the authors talk about the importance of including children as partners in communal life.
Darcia Narvaez, one of the authors, writes:
I think egalitarianism and respect are expected by children, who also expect equal say and participation in the community, as observed in these [“preconquest”] societies (24).
The important thing is to know how to honor children, paying attention to how you are treating them, because you are affecting not only their lifelong well-being, but that of future generations (28).
Instead of viewing children as a group that parents / adults “have authority over,” where the adult gets their way, demanding obedience and punishing disobedience, could we welcome children as participants in world-making? Why should we wait until children “grow up” and are adults to respect them as potential contributors to “the way the world works”?
The main reason we hesitate, I imagine, is because children are immature. They are still learning what it means to be alive. Their bodies, their social skills, their capabilities are changing. They do not have the capacity to understand the complexity of the world we live in, to understand the multiple perspectives on different issues, to make difficult choices in which no one is fully satisfied.
Children are apprentices, and we teach them by example. If they offer us an idea and we reject it, teasing or scolding them in the process, they won’t remember, “My idea was untenable,” but “An adult / my parent rejected me.” They will internalize the notion that children’s ideas are not worthy of respect. Over time, the expectation is established that a person needs to have enough maturity, enough education, enough life experience, enough money, enough prestige, enough power before their wisdom and ideas can be accepted.
Instead, we can show children respect by honoring their contributions. We can receive their ideas, their reactions, their solutions with grace, honoring the fact of their contribution even if that contribution is unfeasible or silly or harmful. Instead of rejecting an idea outright, we can engage with them by asking questions: “Why do think that’s a good idea?” “How do you think others will feel about that?” “What resources or skills would it take to make your idea happen?”
We can respect their emotions as well. Children, like adults, feel a range of emotions, emotions that can change wildly even in just a few minutes. The difference is that adults have had a lot of practice recognizing and coping with their emotions (albeit in healthy or unhealthy ways). Kids, especially young kids, wear their emotions on their sleeve. In my own parenting, I’ve found that acknowledging / naming what my children are feeling (and why) can go a long way in their ability to self-regulate. But if I get angry about their feelings (which I have also done), it only makes things worse. The goal isn’t to get my kid to stop whining or crying or being mad, but to help them learn to acknowledge their feelings and cope with them in healthy ways.
In certain settings, it’s fun and silly and even wondrous to engage with kids on their level. But when I’m trying to do adult things in an adult world, it is inconvenient and inefficient to pause my adult brain to receive what my 5-year-old or 1.5-year-old is telling or showing me. One view of parenting is that we are trying to prepare our children to live in the “real world” of adult complexity. But what if children already occupy the “real world” with us? What if the “real world” of adult complexity needs to be infused with more child-like, childish ideas?
In a chapter on competition and games, Narvaez writes about how egalitarianism functions when competitors have different levels of power:
When social mammals play, they must cooperate, set aside dominance, and be fair. They don’t compete or cheat, threaten or hurt. The focus is on enjoyment and extending their capacities. … As [Peter] Gray explains: “Play always requires the voluntary participation of both (or all) partners, so play is always an exercise in restraint and retaining the other’s good will. If one player fails at that, the other will quit and the play will end. Play very often involves animals that differ considerably in age, size, and strength. To keep the play going, the larger, stronger, or otherwise more dominant animal must continuously self-handicap, so as not to intimidate the other. Thus, play is always an egalitarian, cooperative activity” (102-103).
The other author of the book, Four Arrows (Wahinkpe Topa), offers a definition of competition alternative to our popular view:
We have to take the time to redefine [competition]. Most internet definitions reflect the negative connotation. … They are about “rivalry,” or “the activity or condition of striving to gain or win something by defeating or establishing superiority over others,” and so on. We must clarify that sports and games provide the structural opportunity to test one’s own progressing skill levels in the spirit of egalitarianism and humility. We “compete” or “test” our skills best when pushed toward our potential in the “play” of the game or sport (103).
While these ideas are presented in a chapter on competition in sport, I think they offer a useful model for interacting with children. When an adult plays with a child, the adult sometimes will play at a child’s level, letting the child win on occasion. The adult—who has more power—limits their power so the play is more egalitarian.
This could be applied in areas other than play as well. In what aspects of home life could parents limit their power so that children feel like they have an equal say? Maybe chores? Instead of assigning certain tasks to a child and rewarding / punishing them based on the doing of those tasks, there could be a discussion about how everyone can contribute to the well-being of the home. Let kids offer their ideas about what makes a good home, what makes a house easier to live in, what responsibilities we all have to others in our living spaces. Instead of a top-down command system, this model gives the child a say in how the household is run. Perhaps this will build confidence in the child, encouraging them to contribute ideas in the future. And if they are confident in contributing ideas at home, how will they feel contributing ideas in the outside world at school, work, and in relationships?
Four Arrows calls competition a “testing” of one’s potential. While families are not primarily sites of “competition” (depending on the family, I suppose), it is interesting to consider the family as a setting to “try out” and “test” one’s potential. Ideally, a family would be a safe space for a child to be themselves and contribute ideas, especially as they learn about themselves through childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood. Obviously, this is not often the case. But could we change that?
If we can encourage and celebrate children as they are, we can help them develop self-confidence. It’s not that we accept all their ideas and behaviors without question. But we can respect their ideas as valid attempts to make sense of the world. We can acknowledge their feelings and behaviors as valid responses to events in their life. And then we can help them to see a bigger picture, a different perspective. We can listen to them, and let them teach us. We can understand children as wise, creative, caring people now. If we can see them not just as children, but also our peers, then we will respect what they have to say, and honor their perspectives.
Children are our apprentices in this life, but they teach us, too. We are all apprentices to some degree. I am still learning how to cope with my emotions, how to be kind to others, how to be generous. I learn from others. I will never stop learning more about myself, my limits and capabilities. We are all in a state of becoming, not quite arrived. Nobody is a finished product. Life isn’t about getting to a stage where you never have to change anymore. Life is about accepting the changes that come, recognizing them as opportunities to learn about yourself, and to change yourself and your perspective to one that is more loving.
We may think that children need to be taught “how the world works.” Of course this is true. But it’s also true that we can teach them to question it. Why is the world this way? Does it have to be this way? Could it be different? Is there a better way? What should our goals and responsibilities be as a community? If we can view children as our peers, as our equals, we can include them in changing the world now, in making the world a better place. And you know what? They do this naturally. They are already making the world better by their presence. If we can drop the illusion that adults are somehow better at living, and involve children in the world-making process, our world might become a better place.