I often say that children are my favorite people in the world, and I take them seriously. This saying began with a yearning application to the Teaching and Learning PhD program at Florida International University in 2023, where I spent hours scribbling and erasing, wondering how to begin my statement of purpose. I wanted something true and inviting; something that captured the essence of who I am without exaggeration. After hours of trial and error, that expression struck me, and it has since found its way into the opening line of every grant, scholarship, and conference application I have written.

I would not describe this saying as a slogan or a clever tagline. It is simply the truth. Children are my favorite people in the world, and I will always take them seriously. My commitment to them is anchored in two reasons: the first, in who they are capable of becoming; and the second, in all that they already are: endlessly curious, refreshingly honest, wildly imaginative, and deeply sincere.

I remember vividly a moment from eight years ago that not only confirmed these qualities I have always admired but also propelled me toward dedicating my career to their education and development. My nephew and I were having an animated conversation about superheroes, the best and the bravest, the kind of discussion children fill with wild gestures and earnest conviction. With a depth one rarely imagines in a child, he explained that everyone’s version of a superhero reflects the superpowers they wish they had, but never believed were possible. Then he paused and asked a series of follow-up questions: “Would your favorite superhero still be your favorite if they didn’t have what they had? If they had something else you didn’t like, would you still choose them? What if you could have that superpower yourself? Would superheroes mean something to you then?” In that moment, I saw the world through his eyes, a place where the ordinary becomes profound, where insight shapes reality, and where every question is an invitation to wonder.

That simple exchange stayed with me. Children possess a window into the world that adults often overlook: where we see objects, they see tools for discovery; where we see chaos, they see opportunity; where we see routine, they see invitations to curiosity. Where we are hesitant or restrained, they express sincerity and courage. It is in these small, everyday moments that I find my greatest inspiration—the understanding that nurturing children is not merely about teaching right and wrong, or passing down content and routines, but about honoring the brilliance already alive within them and helping it flourish.

Years later, when I moved to Anglo Boglo, a remote community in Badagry, Nigeria, for a teaching position, I realized that this sense of inspiration is not meant to remain a private, lifelong feeling; it must become an active call to action. That realization struck me as I painfully witnessed how easily children’s brilliance and curiosity could shrink in the absence of an enabling space. Overcrowded classrooms, scarce resources, and systemic neglect had dimmed the sense of wonder of the children I met in this little town, and they had grown weary. They hesitated to ask questions because their curiosity had long been met with silence—not from indifference, but from the limited awareness that comes from generations of seeing children as mere numbers rather than as whole beings to be nurtured.

In that moment, I understood that the potential of every child cannot flourish through a single person’s conviction; it needs recognition, collaboration, and community. Most importantly, it needs a specialized kind of knowledge that everyone must cultivate. And it was there, in that quiet village amid chalk-stained walls and worn wooden desks, that the seed for Childhood Today was planted.

Childhood Today is, at its heart, a response to every child I have met, or have yet to meet, whose light simply needs space, knowledge, and support to shine. It is a space where academic insight meets real life, where ideas become practice, and where communities come together to reimagine what it means to raise thriving, thoughtful, and resilient children in our world today. Childhood Today is a hub for parents, educators, advocates, and every lover of children to unlearn and relearn for children’s sake, a reminder that childhood is not a stage to rush through, ignore, or treat as a mechanical fix, but a wonder to understand, respect, nurture, and protect. I hope that through this platform, children will be able to experience the liberating joy of enabling spaces in their homes, schools, and communities, and flourish unreservedly. When that happens, my work here will have been done.

Welcome to Childhood Today—a home for those who take children seriously, too.