Something about childhood feels different—not in dramatic or obvious ways, but in quieter, more unsettling ones. The questions children ask sound more adult than they used to. The pace of the world feels faster. Conversations about uncertainty and change arrive earlier than we expect. Sure, technology, artificial intelligence, and accelerating change are part of this — but they are not the cause so much as the context. Technology tools, such as AI, reveal the problem — and raise the stakes for how we respond.

The structures we trusted—school, grades, pathways—no longer feel as certain as they once did. Schools alone are insufficient — even if you can’t fully articulate the replacement yet. Perhaps you feel this way?

You are not alone in this feeling.
Your child is not behind. Nor are you.

You are right to want a grounded, emotionally literate, future-ready child—without losing their childhood.

Threshold was written for parents who recognize this feeling. It was written because moments of change call for orientation rather than reaction.

We are living through a period of acceleration unlike anything most parents experienced growing up. 

The challenge is not just that the world is changing, but that it is changing faster than our language, our institutions, and our habits of thinking can keep up with. In moments like this, it’s tempting to look for quick answers—or to hand our thinking over to systems that promise certainty. 

But fear is not a good guide.

Outsourcing our thinking has never served parents or children well. 

For parents and children, outsourced thinking often shows up as:

Letting systems — schools, tests, rankings — decide what matters

Many of us feel surrounded by reaction — news cycles, hot takes, education panics, and growing anxiety about the future.

This is an invitation to slow down.
And to remember what matters in the long run: to orient our children to grow up with confidence, kindness, and a love of learning.

This manifesto begins with a simple observation:

Around age 10, children stand at a threshold.

This is the space between childhood curiosity and future awareness. A moment when the world begins to feel larger, more complex, and more real—yet imagination, curiosity, and wonder are still very much alive.

This is not a diagnosis. 

It is not a deadline.

It’s a doorway.

At this threshold, children begin to ask deeper questions—not always out loud, but often in ways parents can feel:

How does the world really work?

Where do I fit?

Will I be okay in the future I’m growing into?

Parents feel these questions too—sometimes more intensely, and often without a place to sit with them thoughtfully. This book helps create that space and place.

You won’t find panic.

You won’t find predictions.

You won’t find a checklist for “future-proofing” your child.

Instead, you’ll find a way of thinking grounded in three human outcomes that matter more than any forecast:

Perspective helps children see the world clearly.

Agency helps them know they matter.

Joy reminds them that engagement should feel meaningful.

Threshold does not argue that schools are failing or that teachers don’t care. It does not claim technology is inherently good or bad. It simply names a truth many parents already feel:

Our children need more than institutional systems to grow with resilience in a rapidly changing world.

They need adults willing to pause. To ask questions. To reflect.

To stand beside their children at the doorway, rather than pushing them forward or shielding them entirely.

It is not a program.
It is not intended as a movement.
It is not an ideology.

It is an invitation.

An invitation to think with perspective about childhood in a changing world.
An invitation to replace fear with agency.
An invitation to remember that joy is not something children grow out of—it is something to protect.

If you found this manifesto because you feel uncertain, you are exactly where you should be. If you’re reading it because you’re curious, you’re already asking the right questions.

The future does not ask children to be ready. It asks them to be comfortable with ambiguity, be curious, and be willing to step forward.

I’ll leave this opening section with the words of a young person I once interviewed — not as a conclusion, but as a glimpse of what becomes possible when children are given orientation and confidence.

“The most important thing is to educate kids to go in the right direction, to use technology for the good things and not the bad things, and we can’t afford to miss it.” — Justin, age 16

This manifesto begins at the threshold.

This is Part One of a short series adapted from Threshold.

The next piece explores the moment we are in--why timing, not urgency, is the key.

©2025 Richard Tavener