"adulting"

 

I do not like the term adulting; it feels like a juvenile way of describing dealing with one’s own life somewhat maturely. I spent the last month cleaning up after my sister – doing everything in my power to get them out of jail and also make their stay in jail as comfortable as possible. It necessarily interfered with the conduct of my own life. I also did my best not to let it be disrupted too much, attending a number of interviews and securing a job during the same period. Someone described December as a month during which I was ‘adulting’ at unprecedented levels. I was equal to the challenges thrown my way that month, I did not let them get me down. I also had no interest in being equal to them; they were inflicted upon me. Like my country, my family, and nearly all my responsibilities. I want no credit of ‘adulting’ to measure up to these things. I would appreciate an opportunity to opt out, but that is never on the table.

There is a sort of learned helplessness we’ve all come to inhabit. Letting the phone ring out and then texting the caller back is one of my favourite examples. I have tried to completely eliminate this habit. I answer the phone; I love hearing your voice. I wish more people my age were in the habit of cold calling.

I think our relationship with childhood is in need of constant interrogation. Everyone remembers how vulnerable it is to be a child. You are never taken seriously, you are treated with an abundance of love and scarcity of respect, and there is little consideration for your agency when decisions are being made about you. Yet, when people speak about children, there appears a sense of contempt that simply forgets that we were all once in this situation. It forgets that no child chose to be born, that they are perhaps the world’s largest and least heeded vulnerable group, and that there is often no place for them to go to be taken seriously. As we speak with pride about our capacity to ‘adult’, what we are really proud of is growing out of the child within is, the one who still dictates many of our impulses, worries, and desires.

Many of the behaviours we dislike in ourselves and others are attributed to innate ‘childishness’. Poor impulse control, single-minded pursuit of pleasure, poor reactions to not getting what you want, are often written down to the way you were raised. And yet, children can be spoken about in the cruellest of terms. I am reminded of a conversation I had when I told someone I was working on a project related to children’s rights: “so, do children have rights?” I had to laugh. I could point to many instruments saying children have rights, but I did not have an answer for her.