Can accepting that children are our greatest teachers make us better adults?
A friend once asked me, “Would you recommend that I have children?” Without a moment of hesitation, I immediately endorsed the notion. His reply was instant and illuminating: “But you are always moaning about them!”
Momentarily my reflections bounced from embarrassment to confusion. I love my kids – Lucy 34 and Adam 31 – unconditionally, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I am constrained to view them and their exploits through rose coloured spectacles. I reserve the parental right to continually worry about them, shout out their many successes and yes, occasionally whine about them. But having children changed me for the better. I cannot think of a better encapsulation of this epiphany than the words of actress Uma Thurman: “Before I had children, I was a different person. I was more self-involved, more career-focused, and more selfish. Having children has introduced me to the person I never knew existed.”
Learnings from The Old Bailey and Sydney.
Perhaps the most incredible and precious moments of being a parent are when the pupil becomes the teacher. I have often been schooled by my barrister son in the art of calm deduction (I am a natural hothead), and by my adventurous daughter who, from her sun-kissed home in Sydney, has consistently fuelled my aspirations to fulfil my dreams of travelling.
If that isn’t reason enough to have children, just wait until grandkids come along – they are even more awesome!
Arthur (five) and Darcie (three) have become my life guides and in such a short space of time have induced many eureka moments. I am very privileged to be in a position where I am not beholden to a boss, and I don’t have the crippling financial worries that once accompanied me as a younger parent, thereby giving me the space and time to be educated by my two wise sages. Much of my writing has harnessed these moments of enlightenment.
Only recently I researched the meaning of dreams when Darcie announced that she was going to become an astronaut, qualifying this statement by determining that Arthur and I could also be fellow space explorers as long as we sat at the back as she was going to be the pilot.
Then came a moment of observation that literally stopped me in my tracks and made me question when I had lost the most valuable of human attributes: innocence.
Lady bad guys exist too.
During a conversation with Arthur, he recalled his mummy driving him past the now defunct Reading prison. Referencing my time in the police, I said “I’ve been inside there on many occasions.” He replied, “WOW! With the bad guys?” prompting me to qualify that some prisoners are stupid as opposed to bad. I then added that I’d also been inside other prisons, including HMP Holloway where lady prisoners were once held. His response was a gem: “There are lady bad guys too?”
I instinctively knew that this wonderous quality would ultimately be eroded by the stuff and harsh realities of life.
The gradual erosion of innocence.
The loss of innocence is a gradual process, but nonetheless inevitable. Exposure to reality is the chief slayer of innocence, since as children grow, they encounter situations that reveal the harsher aspects of life, such as witnessing conflict, experiencing loss, or understanding societal issues. This phase is turbo-charged by education – especially learning about history, science, and human behaviour – that can lead to a deeper understanding of both the good, the bad and the ugly in the world.
Personal experiences that engage with betrayal, failure, or significant change, can also lead to a more nuanced view of life. Social interactions with a diverse range of people and encountering different perspectives can challenge previously held beliefs and contribute to a more mature outlook. Finally, and more ominously, comes exposure to news, films, books, and online content in shaping one’s understanding of the world.
Although innocence can be lost, I will continue to champion its place within adulthood. When people accuse me of being childish, I take this as a great compliment. Innocence is the kryptonite that fuels openness which can foster stronger genuine relationships, and seeing the good in people and situations. A naïve perspective can simplify complex issues, making it easier to find straightforward solutions. Finally, innocent individuals tend to be more empathetic and compassionate, as they are less likely to be cynical or jaded.
The immaturity of Albert Einstein.
If you have been blessed with kids and, better still grandkids, then marvel at the opportunities you have to learn from them and continually evaluate the world we live in, which should never be defined by the litany of defective human beings that often reign over us.
I excitedly await the great teachings that my youngest grandson Theo (nine months) will soon bestow upon me, and will hold onto my remaining innocence with every fibre of my being.
If you remain unconvinced, then reflect on the adult tone of Albert Einstein:
“The pursuit of truth and beauty is a sphere of activity in which we are permitted to remain children all our lives.”
© Ian Kirke 2025 & all photographs.
@ iankirke.bsky.social