“The Kids These Days!” or “The Parents Just Don’t Get It!”

—The following is from “The Younger Set,” Editorial, September 4, 1920

No longer is it true that the young are seen but not heard. Not only do they make themselves heard but they shout down their elders in a daily mounting chorus of derision and scorn. Art, literature, education, and economics — all these are being dominated by the reckless, half-formed judgments of youth.

Editorial clipping
The original editorial from September 4, 1920. (Click to view the entire article)

Progress would die if old men always had their way. But it is no sign of settled brain paths to be aware of the rampage on which youth has of late been engaged. The meaningless smudge and blur that makes up so much of modern art; the strange, tortured language which so many of the younger, newer writers use in place of English; and the rediscovered and previously discarded utopias which a host of youthful reformers are so joyfully recommending — are these not signs that youth has been given — or has taken — its head with a vengeance?


—The following is from “Parents Will Never Amount to Much!” December 19, 1964

My sister and I don’t know what is becoming of parents this generation. We love our own parents very much, but sometimes we are afraid they will never amount to much.

We know that whatever their little faults, they mean well. But we still don’t understand them. Parents today seem to be living in their own private little world.

Even though they know they should, they never go to bed early. They watch too much television at night. And when they go out with their friends, they stay out to all hours.

Parents have too much freedom these days. They are always thinking of ways to get away from us. When our mother goes on a business trip with our father, why do they always take their bathing suits?

We don’t know where our parents picked up all their bad habits. Certainly not from us. It’s probably their friends. We don’t approve of their friends. They wear too much makeup and they drink.

Sometimes we’re afraid we spoil parents by letting them have their way.

—“Parents Will Never Amount to Much” by Jamie and Suzy Kitman, December 19, 1964

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Read “Parents Will Never Amount to Much” by Jamie and Suzie Kitman from the December 19, 1964, issue of the Post. Subscribe to the magazine for more art, inspiring stories, fiction, humor, and features from our archives.

Featured image: Everett Collection / Shutterstock

The Party Planner: Celebrating the Birthdays of Disadvantaged Kids

Thirty-two squealing kids play birthday games on a basketball court in a Richmond, Virginia, community center. They’re smacking balloons with the party’s 17 volunteers, competing in sack races, shooting baskets, throwing footballs, jumping rope, and screeching and yelling and dancing, pausing only for face-painting before yelling some more. ­Remarkably, despite the chaos, only one balloon pops.


Make that two balloons.

No one is having more fun than the party’s jubilant host, 23-year-old Julia Warren. She’s the founder of Celebrate RVA, an organization that throws birthday parties for disadvantaged kids, most of whom have never worn party hats or blown out candles. (“Sometimes they’re confused about why I lit their food on fire,” she says.) The kids love her. When we entered an elementary school that afternoon to gather children celebrating April birthdays, her young admirers swarmed her, offering smiles, hugs, and high-decibel hellos.

“It’s my shining stars!” she said to the kids. “Are you ready to celebrate birthdays?”

Warren formed the nonprofit in 2013 when she was 16 years old. Since then, Celebrate RVA has hosted more than 280 parties for around 3,250 kids. “She’s younger than me and I look up to her — she’s done all of this on her own,” says Paige Sigler, 29, the organization’s part-time (soon to be full-time) program coordinator and its only other employee.

So what inspired Warren to become a Mother-Teresa-meets-Chuck-E.-Cheese do-­gooder when she was barely old enough to drive? As a junior in high school, Warren was tutoring kids at an elementary school. One day she was chatting with a child and asked, “How old are you? When were you born?” The response changed her life: “He looked up and said, ‘I think I was born when it was cold outside.’”

“Every child deserves the right to experience joy.”

Warren was stunned. She talked to the school principal. He said the school didn’t have time to recognize birthdays, though sometimes they might give a child a pencil. Sad, right? So Warren used babysitting money to host birthday parties on her own. Soon she was contacted by local agencies and nonprofits. “Having these professionals say, ‘This is a real need, and we’re willing to invest resources to make this happen,’ I realized that this was going to be a lot bigger than myself.”

As she served the city, she was also thinking about college and considering two options: 62,000-student Texas A&M, which was half a country away, and Randolph-Macon College, with 1,400 undergrads, about 20 miles from Richmond. If she went to Texas A&M, she would need to put Celebrate RVA on hold. Then, at a birthday party, a gentleman arrived to pick up a child and said, “We have to find a place for him to sleep tonight.”

The man was the boy’s counselor. A few weeks earlier, the boy had watched as his mother was shot and killed in their home. No family member had yet offered to care for him.

“It stopped me in my tracks,” says Warren. “I thought, this child has gone through more than I will ever go through in my entire life. And yet for the past hour and a half, we’ve been able to celebrate him and let him try and forget the horrific things he has seen, and just be a child. And I knew that this is where I was supposed to be.”

She attended Randolph-Macon for two years and then devoted a year to Celebrate RVA. Her parents were both proud and concerned.

“When this started and I was throwing a few birthday parties, they said, ‘Oh, that’s great, Julia!’ And then when I said, ‘I think I need to turn this into a nonprofit,’ my parents were like, ‘Well, shouldn’t you pass algebra first?’”

After attending a few parties, her parents became her biggest supporters. But Warren had much to learn. She was a privileged, private-school girl throwing inner-city birthday parties. “The first few parties, I felt like an outsider,” she says. “I had no relationships in this community. I hadn’t proven myself trustworthy.” She realized she needed to listen and accept feedback. Now, she says, she’s not only been accepted, but parents call her at all hours. She also learned that her parties could wound parents’ pride. “Most parents are truly hurt that they can’t provide their child with a birthday experience,” she says. To address that, she always seeks parental involvement, whether it’s decorating party rooms or lighting the candles.

Cynics may question her work. Cupcakes and streamers are great, the party poopers say, but don’t disadvantaged kids have bigger needs?

“Every child deserves the right to experience joy,” Warren explains. “But a lot of our kids don’t know how. We’ve got elementary schoolers being recruited by gangs.They’re rejecting the idea that happiness is something they can attain.”

Warren grasped the transformative power of parties at one of her first events, held at Safe Harbor, a domestic violence shelter. Members of the city’s pro soccer team, the Richmond Kickers, attended as volunteers, but their presence frightened the women and children. “The last time they were touched by a man, it was probably extremely violent,” says Warren. The players, however, spoke softly and bent down to eye level with the kids. They played in sprinklers, engaged in sidewalk chalk-drawing, and sang “Happy Birthday.” When the party was over, the women and children extended their arms for hugs.

“I had to hold back tears because I saw what an hour and a half of celebration and joy can do,” says Warren. “We’ve talked to teachers who say, ‘My kids keep their birthday card on their desk year-round. It’s their only birthday card and they love to look at it and read the special message.’”

“I said, ‘I think I need to turn this into a nonprofit.’ My parents were like, ‘Well, shouldn’t you pass algebra first?'”

Warren is finishing her education yet continues to expand the organization and recruit volunteers, such as Alisa Feliciano, who volunteers monthly with her husband, 11-year-old daughter, and 14-year-old son. Working with Celebrate RVA, Feliciano says, has strengthened her family. As the kids assume more responsibilities at parties, they’ve become more respectful and responsible at home.

“Julia knows how to empower people,” says Feliciano. “She can inspire a 5-year-old as easily as a 60-year-old.”

Next up for Warren: Celebrate RVA is building a community center that will open in 2020. But parties remain the organization’s focus, and for Warren, the most emotional moments come after the children make birthday wishes. Inevitably, one or two kids keep their eyes closed. “They keep making a wish for like 30 seconds,” she says. “And they’re muttering to themselves. All I can do is wonder what they’re wishing for.”

Warren knows she can’t rescue these kids. But she can give them moments of happiness and love that continue to burn, she hopes, like a candle on a cupcake. And that is Julia Warren’s birthday wish.

Featured image: Shine Photography.

Cartoons: Kids’ Stuff

Out of the mouths of babes, sometimes come gems. And sometimes laughs. Enjoy our cartoons about kids.

“Wait a minute! Bless WHAT dog?” from May/June 1995

"Wait a minute! Bless WHAT dog?"
from May/June 1995

“You’re out of chocolate.” from February 26, 1960

"You’re out of chocolate."
from March 26, 1960

“Think I’ll freshen up a bit before dinner.” from May 20, 1961

"Think I’ll freshen up a bit before dinner."
from May 20, 1961

“I think you’re much better looking in person, Mom.” from January/February 1995

"I think you’re much better looking in person, Mom."
from January/February 1995

 “Did you bring my magic space ring?” from April 22, 1961

"Did you bring my magic space ring?"
from April 22, 1961

“Quick, I need a chocolate malted to help me unwind.” from January 5, 1963

"Quick, I need a chocolate malted to help me unwind."
from January 5, 1963