I want to thank Zach for sharing his words of wisdom for this post. He’s a junior at Baylor University studying biochemistry with aspirations to become a physician. And, he’s close friends with my son and practically part of our family.
America is at war against its children, but the kids come to this fight unarmed.
Government-sanctioned abuse imposes stress and trauma among our country’s most vulnerable who have no voice in their governance. Children are neither seen nor heard, rather, propped up as campaign tokens and leveraged as pawns. But children never come out ahead in this cruel, high stakes game. We are harming children by gutting SNAP, slashing Medicaid (which insures about 40% of America’s children), dismantling the Department of Education, wreaking havoc in schools and libraries with vouchers and banned books, sowing health misinformation while spreading measles and whooping cough and apparently think polio isn’t so bad after all, and terrorizing families in broad daylight.
The kids are not alright. And it’s all our fault.
In a time of global uncertainty, exacerbated by the recent government shutdown and its overwhelmingly disproportionate effect on children, the need for hope, peace, and moral clarity has never been greater. At the heart of every society lies a universal truth, children are our future. There’s something achingly simple and beautiful about childhood, the sticky fingers, the boundless energy, the barrage of questions, the laughter that erupts from nowhere. Kids don’t ask for much -love, safety, a chance to learn, a place to play. Yet somehow, in the wealthiest country, we’re still debating whether all children deserve those basic things. This transcends beyond our current political climate, though we are indeed in unprecedented modern times.
As a college student, I have always been taught that America was a nation that stood up for opportunity and fairness, protecting and uplifting its youth. Signing on to something as impactful as the CRC seemed like the bare minimum, and yet we fail to recognize what it could do for the next generation. My peers and I are supposed to be leading the charge toward a better tomorrow, but how can we build that future if our rights and protections are up for debate?
This actually goes back to 1989 when the United Nations General Assembly adopted the Convention on the Rights of the Child, the most widely adopted human rights treaty in history. As the only United Nations member state that has yet to ratify the Convention on the Rights of the Child, the United States stands alone in failing to codify the most basic protections for its youngest citizens. Every other nation has said emphatically that children matter. Yet, we have not. And that’s not just embarrassing, it’s heartbreaking. There has never been a more urgent moment to reaffirm our commitment to children. Americans young and old agree on this simple moral imperative.
It’s time to stop politicizing childhood and start protecting it.
This is not about bureaucracy or political ideologies or optics. It is fundamentally about who we are as a people. What do we stand for? What do we cherish? What kind of country hesitates to say, proudly, out loud, and on paper, that every child deserves to be safe, educated, and free from harm?
My generation has grown weary from carrying the weight of the future while still fighting for basic necessities and privileges that should have been granted long ago. Why must we pretend that our rights are a partisan issue? Protecting the future of this country should never depend on politics, it should depend on our humanity.
We have turned too many basics into battlefields, like school meals, vaccines, public education, even libraries. Children have become collateral damage in our cultural wars. The places where they should feel safest – schools, playgrounds, daycares, and even their own homes – have become politically charged terrain.
And the consequences are measurable and long-lasting. Beyond the politics, the science is clear. Trauma and toxic stress, arguably the most pressing public health crises of our time, leave their mark, affecting brain development, emotional regulation, academic achievement, and physical health. And the ripple effects touch every sector from education to justice, to public health, and economic development. Kids who grow up without support often carry invisible scars into adulthood, and those scars echo across classrooms, workplaces, and communities.
I’ve seen the mental and emotional toll of a generation hindered by our own failures. We don’t need to read a study to understand what’s at stake- we feel the weight of it every day. I’ve grown up in a time where mental health crises and school shootings are considered the status quo, all while we are expected to manage the weight of problems we didn’t create.
Many kids my age carry burdens no human should have to bear, let alone a child learning how to make their way in the world.
And while American children face these pressures, millions of children worldwide are facing further challenges, from unsafe drinking water and infectious diseases to barriers to education access and humanitarian crises. Children’s rights are a global issue, and the U.S. cannot credibly champion children’s rights abroad while failing to guarantee them at home.
But here’s the good news – as parents and students alike, we know how to help. Play heals. Art heals. Connection heals. When we nurture children and elevate their needs in our budgets and policies, we truly see them, hear them, and give them space to grow. And when children thrive, our communities do too. Ratifying the Convention on the Rights of the Child won’t magically erase the inequities that plague our systems, but it will plant a flag stating that as a nation, We see you. We hear you. You matter.
Ratifying the Convention would be more than symbolic. It would signal that we are ready to prioritize children not as expenses, but as investments. It would affirm that every child deserves safety, education, and the chance to simply be a kid. Children are not line items in a budget, tokenized props in a political campaign, or platitudes in a stump speech, they are our legacy walking around in light-up sneakers and too-heavy backpacks.
My generation is not powerless- we are the ones that can change this. We’ve seen the effects of the cracks in the system, and we are determined to rebuild it. Standing as a unified front against the failures of our predecessors, we must vote, make our voices heard, and ensure that every child is given the opportunity to flourish. This is more than an act of political defiance, it is a promise that this nation still believes in our future.
That belief starts with us.
It’s long past time for the United States to stand with the rest of the world and ratify the Convention on the Rights of the Child. When we protect a child, we protect our collective future. And maybe, just maybe, we protect our soul too.