Category: Children’s Rights

Today’s paradigmatic demand for reproductive rights, including the rights to contraception and the safe termination of a pregnancy, goes something like this: Men and women have the right to choose the timing and size of their families. And things like President Trump’s recent expansion of the rights of employers to deny women insurance coverage for contraception, as well as his refusal to fund family planning services domestically and abroad, violate these rights.

Is there another way to make the demand for reproductive rights? Secretary of Defense Jim Mattis has acknowledged that climate change is a threat to our national security, and studies have shown that choosing a smaller family is the most effective way to mitigate climate change. Moreover, these studies focused simply on emissions, not also factoring in the beneficial effects of creating a smaller, better prepared and more resilient population to match the more challenging environment of the future. Could we make a better demand for reproductive rights based on preventing a recognized threat to our national security?

Here’s another way: If you are a caring person you might feel beleaguered by the constant needs of neglected children, in and out of our communities. Refugees, abused children in failing foster care systems, children living in child-care desserts, children who vitally need federal health insurance, etc. – where did these millions of children come from? Why do we treat children as invisible until they arrive in this world, especially when we now know the disproportionate impact early childhood development has on a person, impacts that last the rest of their lives? Instead of dumping funding and other resources into a cavern of needy children, why not also incentivize parents and communities to work together to plan a fair start in life for every child?

We have to imagine what the world would look like today if parents in the past had waited a few years more to have kids, had fewer kids, and worked with their communities to improve the conditions into which every child had been born. What if all parents had planned for and worked towards things like health insurance, educational savings plans, organized community day care, etc. – all with the help of others who saw family planning for what it is: the future of the world. That proactive view of helping children presupposes rights to things like access to contraception, and the safe termination of a pregnancy. But it bases those rights upon what children need rather than simply upon what parents want. And by focusing on children it also bases the rights on the interests of the community in its future citizens. Who among us really wants to live in communities filled with people raised by parents who did not plan for or want children at the time, but were forced to have and raise kids because they simply could not prevent them?

We can talk about reproductive rights and our right to choose. We can also talk about reproductive rights and climate change, national security, the wellbeing of children, the future of our communities, etc.  Is the latter more compelling?

by Emma Spett

When I (a 23-year-old woman) was asked to write about my perspective on having children, two things were happening in my life: first, I was spending time with a community of folks in their 20s and 30s who were all childless. Second, I had just finished Learning to Die in the Anthropocene, a book by Roy Scranton about the climate crisis and our mortality as a species.

I started talking to the people in my life about having kids, asking what their plans were (if they had any) and what motivated those plans. I also spoke with my parents, who had three children in three years while still in their twenties, about the choices they made while building their family.

Throughout my week of conversations, I allowed Roy Scranton’s theory of humanity’s imminent destruction to inform my perspective. In his book he considers the ways in which we can move towards our demise gracefully, rather than in flames. What does that look like with respect to developing future generations of human beings? Do we want to bring children into this changing world?

Some of my friends expressed wanting kids because it seemed like a natural next step in a relationship. Some felt an inherent desire to be a parent, to carry a child. Some had made the choice long ago not to have children. When I asked my parents about their motivations, they shrugged and said that’s just how it happened.

To me, parenting in the anthropocene means that we must take responsibility for our new role as the primary geological force on earth. What can we do to alleviate our grasp of the world’s natural systems? We can have fewer children, surely. We can encourage the people around us to adopt, to participate in the lives of their friends’ and family’s children, we can encourage smaller families through policies and taxation and education. We can normalize, validate, and celebrate the conscious choice not to have children at all.

I don’t know if I’ll have kids. I’ve always felt motivated by my capacity to do impactful work, which has silenced, for the most part, any desire to devote time and energy to a future family. Additionally, as an environmentalist, I’m cognizant of the challenges we’ll face in the coming years, as humans grapple with our choice to grow without a consciousness of earth’s capacity to provide. It doesn’t feel imperative to me to make a sweeping statement about the choices I’ll make down the line with respect to my family. What is important, though, is to be conscious about how I can reflect my values in those choices.

A recent report by the Annie E. Casey Foundation documented that while many in the US tout “equality” as one of the country’s highest values, there is absolutely no measure by which the next children born in America will have equal opportunities.

The Eugene Register-Guard looked into the statistics for Oregon children living in low-income households. They found that 63% of African-American children, 64% of Native American children, and 67% of Latino children are growing up low-income, compared to 33% of white children. And in answer to those who claim that undocumented immigrants are distorting these numbers, 88% of the children are US citizens, and an additional 7% hold legal status here.

Most politicians claim to be pro-family and pro-children, but statistics like the above show that these claims are, at best, empty. Politicians at every level failing to advance policies that will fundamentally alter our society plans and cares for families.

But our current reality is even worse. At the national level, the Republican-led Congress has failed to reauthorize the Children’s Health Insurance Program (CHIP), which has provided health coverage for about 9 million low-income children and pregnant women.

So not only are we, as a society, failing children born into a cycle of poverty, we are undermining one of the very few programs that can actually help poor children be born into slightly better situations.

All of these issues – and the many more we feature on the Having Kids’ Facebook page – come about because we refuse to formalize family planning based on every child’s right to a Fair Start. And while some groups do amazing triage work on the inequalities in our society, only Having Kids is willing to address the root cause – our unwillingness as a society to state, unequivocally, that a child’s right to a Fair Start should supersede all other rights.

by EK Green, far left

I’ve been incredibly fortunate to have great parents who put a tremendous amount of work and time and love into raising me and continuing to support me. They made their housing decisions based on getting me into the best school districts they could afford, and always supported my education. They drove me to 6 am cross country practices all through high school, trained with me through the offseason, and came to track and cross-country meets around the state. They paid my way through college and continue to always be there for me.

Their example has shown me that raising a child well is a full time, lifelong commitment. I’m incredibly grateful for all they do for me, especially as I see others close to me who don’t receive the same kind of support from their parents. I see friends – especially those with siblings – who are put into roles they shouldn’t have to take on: the role of parent to siblings, or mediator between parents.

Potential parents who aren’t able and/or willing to take responsibility for themselves, their emotions, and their obligations to others, shouldn’t have kids. Potential parents who aren’t able and/or willing to put their kid(s) first shouldn’t have kids.

My parents have been patient, thoughtful, and compassionate as I’ve come out and come to an understanding of my own various queer identities. I have friends who aren’t in the same fortunate position. Some do not feel comfortable talking with their parents about their identity; others have parents who ignore or disrespect who they are. Of my close friends, most are queer, neurodivergent, or mentally or physically disabled (or some combination of the above). The assumption of many parents that their child will be straight, cis, neurotypical*, and without disabilities, etc. is wrong and unfair to their child.

Even if their child is straight, cis, etc., there are often other unfair assumptions, such as a child will fill a particular gender role and/or have certain social aspirations. A child is an individual, not the projections of a potential parent’s dreams or wishes. No child should come into the world unwanted, and no child should end up resented because they aren’t what their parents imagined. If potential parents are not prepared – practically and emotionally – to support their children, regardless of who they end up being, and what their needs are, they shouldn’t have kids.

As an adult, I’ve never wanted kids of my own. Although when I was younger I briefly considered that I might adopt kids, as I’ve gotten older and realized that I’m not obligated to have kids, I’ve come to the conclusion that raising kids isn’t something I want for my life.

Even if I did, I know myself and what I value. Stability, space for myself, and self-determination are important to me; none of which are compatible with the level of work and sacrifice required to raise a child. Most of my close friends also don’t want kids, for similar reasons. Those who do are actively invested and eager to have raising a kid be a part of their life, and have thought about it significantly, rather than simply accepting that as the default Plan For Their Lives.

While not interested in raising kids of my own, I do plan to be a part of the support network for my friend’s kids. I’ve had conversations with my friends about what kind of “cool not-blood-related nuncle***” I’ll be for their kids – such as introducing them to my favorite cartoons and comics as age-appropriate, teaching them about Cool Science, taking them to natural history museums, and getting them registered to vote when they turn 18. Friends of my parents have played a variety of important roles in my life – I wouldn’t be where I am today without them and their support – so I hope to be that kind of person to my friends’ kids. We all know – village, child, etcetera.

* And if parents are not willing to vaccinate – and thus risk their kids dying because they don’t want an autistic kid – they absolutely should not have kids.**
** Vaccines don’t cause autism, but that’s not the point.
*** Borrowed from Ann Leckie’s Provenance, where it’s the term for a nonbinary sibling of a parent.