Let’s stop pretending this is all a mystery.
Kids today are anxious, fragile, and disconnected—not because the world is scarier, but because we took away the very things that used to make kids strong.
They don’t ride bikes around town anymore. They don’t build forts in the woods. They don’t knock on a neighbor’s door and ask if their friend can play.
They don’t live in the real world—because we don’t let them. And let’s be honest: we don’t even live there ourselves anymore.
Screens Instead of Scrapes
We replaced scraped knees with screen time and thought we were doing them a favor. Instead, we taught them that boredom is a crisis and discomfort is abuse. We programmed them to seek validation from strangers on apps instead of forming real friendships.
Now we’re shocked they can’t hold a conversation or show up to work on time.
We Didn’t Just Coddle Them. We Lied to Them.
We told them the world was scary, so they stayed inside. We told them they were fragile, so they broke under pressure. We told them they had to be constantly entertained, so they lost the ability to think for themselves.
We fed them a diet of curated comfort and digital dopamine. We killed their curiosity and replaced it with fear and fatigue.
And worst of all? We blamed them.
The real trauma is raising a child who can’t function without a phone, a therapist, or a set of step-by-step instructions.
But This Is On Us
We gripe about “trading community for convenience” like we weren’t the ones who did it. Like we didn’t turn parenting into project management. Like we didn’t stop going outside, talking to neighbors, fixing our own stuff, or even looking up from our phones.
If your kid can’t function in the real world, maybe it’s because they’ve never actually seen you live in it either.
We Took Away Main Street, Too
It wasn’t just childhood we erased. We gutted adolescence, too.
Remember cruising Main Street? Piling into cars, circling the square, waving at friends, pulling into parking lots, playing music just a little too loud? It wasn’t chaos—it was culture. It was public. It was harmless. It was formative.
But we shut it down. “Too much noise,” they said. “Too many kids hanging around.” So we passed ordinances. Put up signs. Made it clear: teenagers weren’t welcome downtown after 8pm on weekends.
We kicked them off Main Street and replaced it with… nothing.
Now, instead of being out in the open where adults could wave, chat, and supervise from a distance, teenagers gather where no one can see—at field parties, in basements, on apps and encrypted chats.
And we wonder why their behavior is worse. We took away the stage and pushed them into the shadows.
The old bowling alleys are closed. The roller rinks are gone. The drive-ins, the diners, the pool halls—all vanished.
Not because kids stopped caring. But because we stopped supporting the things that supported them.
We told them they were a nuisance, and they believed us.
We see the empty buildings and shrinking towns, and we ask, “What happened?” Here’s what happened: we pushed the next generation out, and now we’re left wondering why no one stayed.
Stop Complaining. Start Building.
This isn’t a call to more outrage. We’ve had enough of that. This is a call to action.
Don’t like what the culture is doing to your kids?
Do something different.
- Turn off your phone and go outside—with your kid.
- Let them build something real. Let them fail.
- Introduce them to risk. Give them a hammer. A bike. A problem to solve.
- Tell them no. Let them get bored.
- And when they come whining about it, don’t entertain them—train them.
Because the truth is, they don’t need more apps, more therapy, or more “enrichment activities.”
They need adults.
Not passive consumers. Not nostalgic complainers. Not finger-pointers blaming the next generation.
They need adults who will lead.
So stop posting memes about “the good old days.”
Get off the couch and go build them again.
