#MyPeaceJamMoment

This weekend is one of the best weekends I’ve ever spent.

To be honest, the thing I was most excited for in PeaceJam Leeds was meeting Nobel Peace Laureate Mairead Maguire. Interestingly enough, the thing I thought I hated turned out to be the best part of the whole experience.

I don’t like kids. I always say that to people.

Kids are rowdy, noisy, and they suck up your energy. I’m an old person. I get tired easily. Hence, the thought of being a mentor to a bunch of teenagers was not something I looked forward to. But hey, it’s a necessary suffering in exchange for a moment with a Nobel Peace Laureate, right?

Hah. Never felt so wrong.

#MyPeaceJamMoment is the entire weekend I spent as a mentor to this wonderful bunch of substantive, inspiring, and fun kids.

At some point during the workshop, I was amazed when these junior high schoolers started talking about international politics and nuclear proliferation but then I caught myself half a second later and reflected “why am I so floored? Is this something astounding?”.

The answer is “of course, not”. I shouldn’t be amazed. To be amazed is to acknowledge that I underestimated them. To be amazed is to admit that I have subconsciously marked their limits just because of their ages.

True, I was amazed for a second. And then I am humbled.

I am humbled because I am reminded once more how it was like being young and having people in general believe you are not capable of deep thoughts because you’re “still a kid”. I am humbled because it reminded me how much adults underestimate the children. I am humbled because I realized how I, as I turned into an adult, succumbed to the glorification of ‘adulthood’ and forgot (even got embarrassed) of how I was like as a child.

Micro-aggressions like using “kid” as an insult, saying “pft, kids these days”, and that desire to be an adult thinking that it is equated to maturity is so prevalent.

Maturity does not come with age. It comes with experience. And sometimes, a twelve year old kid can have more experience than a thirty year old man. You never know but that sixteen year old may have faced insurmountable challenges more than your forty-year old self ever had.

It is not impossible and astounding that kids know much about politics, the economy, scientific innovations and such. These are not subjects exclusive to adult consumption. These topics are normal and they discuss it everyday. It’s as normal as two fourteen-year olds teasing each other over lunch. It’s as common as middle schoolers crushing on each other the first time they laid their eyes on each other and then going home with the other’s number on their phone. It’s as typical as a thirteen year old tearing up at the idea of losing a friend. It is normal because we are all human beings and we react to life naturally like that.

The experience made me reflect.

At which point did I start looking at children this way? When did I jump to the other side and viewed them as something beneath me? When did I let all the “you’re so childish” comments get to me and made me think that being a child is bad? When did I start thinking that being an adult is being “mature”, as if maturity and youth is mutually exclusive? When did I start believing these people who judged me for my childlike cheerfulness and deemed me immature for it as if they have access to my thoughts and experience? When did I become the people I promised I will never be?

I don’t remember anymore but if there’s one thing I’ll take from this experience, it is to stay away from people who will turn me into that kind of person again.

We all rally against biases and discrimination—racial, sexual, ethnic, religious. It’s about time we do so against our preconceived notions on what children can and cannot do. There is a certain kind of humanity you experience when you hang out with young people. It makes you feel hopeful, humble, and alive.

I will always look back on this weekend. A gentle reminder of life in general.

And yeah, it seems that I don’t dislike kids after all.