Let’s face it — no generation has ever liked the previous one. I know this from pure experience. My family thought I was a rebellious, headstrong creature from a generation of rogue unicorns. I could do backflips in midair, catch a bird with my teeth, and they’d still say, “Back in our day…”
Honestly, if my parents’ generation had a proper name, it wouldn’t be “Baby Boomers.” It’d be “The Back-in-Our-Day-ers.” And us? We’d be “The Neighbor’s Kid Is Better Than You” Generation.
You see, back then, we knew who was a boy and who was a girl. There were no long gender discussions. If my mom said I was a girl, then BAM — case closed. No PowerPoint presentation needed. But I do remember one delicate child at school who, although assigned male, behaved in a more feminine way. The kids noticed — we weren’t blind — but we never teased him. He was fragile, and we were… surprisingly good kids. Because even if I wasn’t better than the neighbor’s kid, I was definitely someone else’s favorite neighbor kid. Balance, you know?
Fast forward to today, and identity confusion is the new national sport. People are arguing with strangers online, shouting over each other like it’s a WWE Smackdown, but no one’s actually listening. It’s like… the louder you yell, the less you understand.
And me? I’m tired. My brain is too full for this chaotic soup of “they/them/what now?” I get headaches just scrolling through.
Now, I know this is a detour, but let me take a little side street. I’m coming back, I promise.
Eighteen years ago, I picked up a 3-year-old baby and never put him down (emotionally, don’t call child services). Surprise! He came as a bonus with my partner. I didn’t know the first thing about parenting — I grew up in a house where loving the neighbor’s kid more than your own was practically a tradition.
So I called a friend in the U.S., a real kid-whisperer who had her own children, plus her sister’s and cousin’s kids. I said, “I have no experience. I never even wanted kids. How do I do this?” She asked, “Do you love him?” I said, “Love? I’m obsessed! He’s the best kid on Earth. But I don’t know how to act like a parent.” She laughed and said, “You’re already doing it. Just love him and be there when he needs you.” And guess what? We made it through 18 years. My sweet bonus son is now doing a Master’s degree and has always been top of his class.
Now imagine if, back then, my friend had said, “Wait, first check if the child identifies as a boy, or prefers to be called ‘they.’ Also, consult their spirit animal.” Honestly? I’d have probably joined the military out of confusion. (Which I almost did — I took the U.S. Army exam before moving to France. We’re a “Plan B always ready” generation.)
If this had happened today, I think war would be less exhausting than figuring out someone’s pronouns.
Meanwhile, in China, kids aren’t busy wondering if they’re boys or girls — they’re becoming artists. I’ll send you a video soon. Have you seen the Rabbit & Turtle Dance video? It’s an online hit. I watched it and cried. Yep. Real tears.
Because while Eastern children are learning art, science, and self-discipline, ours are busy trying to pick a gender like it’s an ice cream flavor at Baskin Robbins. They’re told: “You can be whatever you want!” And they hear: “Even a different body part!”
Meanwhile, millions die from diseases because they can’t afford treatment, but gender-affirming surgery? Free with a side of rainbow sprinkles.
Once, when my son was five or six, he watched a movie and decided he wanted to be a thief. I mean, that was his first career plan. I couldn’t judge him. I can’t blame him, because when I was his age, I wanted to become a housekeeper, because our housekeeper was the coolest lady I had ever seen! One of my first cousins wanted to be a fisherman. But as we grew up, we evolved. I became a journalist, my son moved on to cryogenics, and my cousin? He got his Master’s at Johns Hopkins and is now a successful civil engineer.
Kids want to be all kinds of things — that doesn’t mean we should buy them a boat and say, “Ahoy, little fisherman!” Children dream, and it’s up to us adults to keep both their dreams and their feet on the ground.
So if you made it this far (congrats, you survived this rollercoaster), please — before you go — watch that video. Because your children deserve to be brilliant dancers, thinkers, and humans too. Don’t fill their heads with confusion. Let them grow, then choose. But most of all, teach them to be kind.
That’s all the world really needs.
Victoria Toumit