An Ode to the Kids Who Once Annoyed Us
Once upon a time, I made a living taking care of small children. Like many youth in search of their first jobs, I started babysitting for family friends. This evolved into working as a camp counsellor for four summers, making sure fun-filled days were had by all. Childcare was the foundation of my career path (and most likely many others). In the years I worked as a camp counsellor, months without seeing a human under the age of ten years old was a godsend. I’d spend two months straight in the constant presence of kids screaming and crying over baseless drama, only to relish every minute of baseless drama with people my own age. Now, in the midst of this global pandemic, it’s a strange absence I find myself missing. Kids bring a special brand of ennui, but they also offer a perspective of the world that’s so unfiltered and under-appreciated by adults. Feeling this way has me thinking how essential young ones are in the worlds of childless adults, especially those in their twenties who are still growing up.
I will most likely regret saying this in a couple of months. After all, I have a cousin turning ten this year. The last time we were together, I was dodging Nerf bullets and stuffed animals being thrown from his bed. For some reason, I was an easy target. I know whenever I come home next, hopefully with my boyfriend in tow for their inevitable first introduction, he’ll say hello, make some comment about how crazy tall my boyfriend is and then run away. Maybe he’ll teach my boyfriend how to use the Nerf gun- or he’ll just shoot us both. Maybe he’s learned to play the guitar I found in his basement last year, and maybe my boyfriend will successfully teach him one new chord before he gets bored. I’m just looking forward to giving him a big hug.
Kids- my cousin no exception- have the ability to be extremely blunt and zany with you because there’s virtually nothing at stake for them. It’s not like they’ll lose a partner or a job if they say exactly what’s on their mind or if they lob a stuffed Ninja Turtle at your head. If anything, they get laughs for it. Maybe some consequences — a time out, the loss of TV time — but nothing life-altering. These are the pure joys of childhood I took for granted as a child. Sometimes I wonder if I hadn’t taken these juvenile offences so seriously, if I would have been more of a rule-breaker.
At some point between childhood and adulthood, we learn to filter ourselves. We learn it’s a must; politeness in the face of company (even those you have valid reason to hate) somehow trumps honesty. I feel lucky that I’m aware of how filtered I became as a result of my childhood. It makes me sad that my elementary school guidance counsellor’s puppets preached restraint over honesty and apologizing even if it wasn’t sincere. Why can’t we just accept that we’re not going to like everyone we meet (and vice versa)? I wish I knew that then, and I wish kids could know that now.
I don’t need a bunk full of nine year olds to ground me or remind me of a simpler time where jobs were only seasonal and mostly outdoors. It’s just nice to get a fresh perspective amid the many people I know and pass through on a regular basis, even if it’s just for the length of a Passover seder. It’s even nicer to have a reminder to live an unfiltered life with the utmost joy, even when the world around you is crumbling to shit.
Earlier this year, I learned my summer camp was shutting down for the summer because of the pandemic. While I haven’t been a counsellor in over five years, and a camper in ten, my heart broke for all the kids and young adults who would be missing their opportunities to grow. I learned so much about myself in the years I spent in the presence of these wild children. I hope one day they understand that, whether as a counsellor or as a parent. Now they’re in Zoom school, and I honestly don’t even want to know what kind of fresh hell that is. I feel for them and I hope they and their families are safe. Moreover, I hope next summer, they get to go back to camp and lose their fucking marbles.
