The London (Children's) Olympics of 2012

In an effort to conserve our minimal paychecks, my pseudohusband (PH) and I gave up cable when we moved into our new house. This means we have missed the beginnings of Perception, the endings of The Closer, Inspector Lewis, Anderson Cooper -- and the London Olympics.

Yesterday was my twenty-third birthday, so we spent some time with both of our families. In both houses, the Parade of Nations danced in muted silence across large LCD screens. After hearing of the special tribute to children's literature via the internet, we stayed at my grandmother's until 0330, watching the rerun of the entirety of the opening ceremony.

I cried. PH cried. My mother cried.

Why, you ask? It seems like a strange reaction in retrospect.

My mother is writing her dissertation about children in film. We have both studied children's literature for the last several years. I have focused on (more than once) youth in media. And I have never been more moved by the portrayal of (and honoring of) children and young people in...well, anything, really.

So often, especially in the United States (sadly), children are marginal. They are on the fringe, the ones most overlooked and subjugated. We shelter them until they are teens, and then when they rebel against those boundaries, we scoff and turn our backs. I cannot fathom why we do this, and do my best not to participate in this disenfranchisement of youth.

I am only twenty three, which is still young, and yet I am (at times) treated with more respect than those four years my junior simply because of those four years. And that is ludicrous.

All this said, the opening ceremony of the 2012 London Olympics completely shattered all of these horrible stereotypes. They not only honored the children's literature tradition in Britain (which I will get to shortly), but Danny Boyle empowered children throughout the entire ceremony. Young people opened the ceremony with a beautiful, heart-wrenching medley, and closed it by lighting the torch. No some superficial celebrity or worthy-but-expected athlete. Eight young people, not yet old enough to compete in the Olympics themselves. These children are the future, and were selected by elite adult athletes to represent that future in Britain.

I am tearing up as I write this.

Danny Boyle told an amazing story, and children are included at every step of the way. Because whether we like to admit it or not, children are important.

The children's literature sequence -- absolute brilliance. I never in my life thought I would see Mary Poppins defeat Voldemort, or hear J.K. Rowling read from Peter Pan, and yet my life feels that much more complete after witnessing both. I'd do just about anything to be one of those children, 'sleeping' beneath white light blankets and showing the world just what they are missing when they ignore children and the literature that is made for them.

I'd like for someone to just try to tell me, again, that children and the novels/stories written for them are irrelevant, non-literary and forgettable endeavours. Just try.

I hope, someday far from now, I can show my future children footage from this opening ceremony. Because I want them to know, no matter what popular opinion is (which I would argue is swiftly shifting, especially now), that they will always matter, and their stories will always matter.

So thank you, Danny Boyle, for doing what so many cannot because they are too blind.