“He is so cute,” the workshop participants say, as I run across the room trying to catch my son before he smears Vegemite and playdough on the wall. My half-eaten toast hangs limply from my mouth.
I am in a YMCA cafeteria at a youth workshop program with my two-year-old. It is 8am, and I am tired. Rectangular, school desk-style tables are spaced evenly around the room, with groups of five or six people at each table. The other workshop participants remain seated, eating their breakfast leisurely, getting up to get a little more juice or another slice of toast before the day’s program officially begins. I remain standing, trying to corral this energetic child of mine back to our table so I can at least finish my toast.
We pass the other tables on our way to the back of the room, and all eyes turn to us. Soft smiles engage the participants’ faces. The running commentary on the aesthetics of my child continues. “Look at that hair, it’s so curly.” “He is so cute. His skin is the best colour, so gorgeous.”
My reaction to this barrage is to accept the compliments, albeit with a fake smile plastered on my face. But I confess, my first thoughts are of me. I feel somewhat invalidated as a parent that my two-year-old child is, most notably, “cute”. What about all the time and energy I’ve put into making him a member of this society, of curbing his desire to eat without his hands (only using his mouth) and moulding him into the more civilised, cutlery-holding child he can be? Doesn’t anyone see the careful navigation I have undertaken to get him to this point? Or at the very least, doesn’t anyone want to get up and give us a hand, distract him for a bit so I can finish my breakfast?
It occurs to me that this constant naming of children as “cute”, “lovely” and “gorgeous” is a form of objectification
Later, as he breastfeeds peacefully and I have a moment to think, I am struck by sadness. I’m concerned he’ll be constantly reduced to his appearance. This was not something I’d ever considered in my many worries about raising a child, especially a boy-presenting child. When he was a baby, this way of relating to children was less obvious to me. But as he has grown and become more than capable of speaking words and sentences, expressing likes and dislikes, I have become acutely aware of the disquieting lack of non-cuteness-related interest shown to children and their needs in society.
It occurs to me that this constant naming of children as “cute”, “lovely” and “gorgeous” is a form of objectification – yes, hear me out. This is especially true since most casual social interactions with children begin and end with a compliment. A child’s desires, actions and bodies are ignored from thereon (or seen as a nuisance). They are instead seen as objects to be cared for.
I do some research and discover that this tendency to talk down to children, to perpetually treat them like helpless infants, can be traced to social Darwinism. In the book , moral philosopher claims that the convergence of social Darwinism with psychological claims about childhood gave rise to the belief that a child’s development into an adult mirrors “the progress of humanity as a whole”. A child in this context may be considered a “‘primitive’ human or pre-human animal”.
Capitalism has also shaped attitudes towards children. Small humans aren’t generally seen as “useful” until they are able to produce a profit, pay taxes or “contribute” to society.
We are conditioned to feel that to engage in a conversation with a child is unproductive and a waste of time
These two systems and structures of thinking are still the cornerstones of our society. It’s why we are conditioned to feel that to engage in a conversation with a child is unproductive and a waste of time. Instead, bystanders revert to admiring kids as angelic creatures and assigning them value based on the rush of endorphins humans experience when engaging with something cute.
But really, children are ready and able to be seen as far more than things to be looked after. For example, as seen in the reality show , there are immense benefits for the elderly in interacting with young children and engaging with their sense of play and creativity. It has even led to a research .
There are so many other benefits of being around children, but when I google “the value of children”, I'm bombarded by the economic cost-benefit analyses of raising children. So perhaps there’s a way to go before we have solid evidence that points to the benefits of fully engaging with children.
Speaking of research, next time you see a gorgeous child, why not experiment with talking to them as you would to an adult – directly and with respect? You might say, “I love your hair,” instead of, “You’re so cute.” You might say, “You have a great smile,” instead of, “Look at that cutie.” Or you might even actively engage the child in a conversation, instead of treating them as a generic prehuman, while I finish my toast.
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