The Children Are Always Ours
Caring for every child around the world.
Posted March 30, 2026 | Reviewed by Michelle Quirk
Rümeysa Öztürk, a Turkish student at Tufts University, wrote in The Guardian about being abducted by masked men and detained by U.S. immigration enforcement, even though she had a valid student visa. Her “ crime ” was that she co-authored a letter in the student newspaper about the need to protect children in Gaza, not hurt or kill them. Öztürk has since been released from custody and earned her Ph.D. in child development .
Öztürk was moved to learn that people all over the world cared about her and her detention:
"I often wonder: what would it mean to suffering children if they knew they were cared for by so many people all over the world. The support I received helped me learn that even a few minutes of attention can transform someone's path to healing. I believe that this kind of care can help children suffering, even thousands of miles away. What if we offered just a few moments of our lives to care for them? There are countless ways to do this work. Two of them are grieving and taking action.
Grieving is a testament to our humanity, a sign that we insist on feeling instead of giving in to numbness. Grieving for suffering children—who bear the cost of crimes they did not commit, trapped inside the consequences of someone else's power grab—is also a way to build a global community united through care. As James Baldwin said, 'The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe.'
Grief allows space for processing and connecting. It can also spur action."
Öztürk’s beautiful words reminded me of the novel King Matt the First , by my hero Janusz Korczak. Korczak was a Polish Jewish pediatrician and writer who had an unwavering dedication to the rights of children—and the responsibility of adults to safeguard those rights.
In the novel, a sheltered and rather self-centered young prince becomes king while still young. He envisions a fairer world, with wars and conflicts eliminated because of the solidarity of children across the globe. He imagines uniting all children everywhere under a green flag of hope.
Though intended for children, King Matt the First does not have a happy ending. Matt’s reforms fail because of the hypocrisy of adults who can’t bear to give up their power, and because his goals are so lofty.
Korczak’s life did not have a happy ending either. He was marched by Nazi soldiers—along with 200 children of his orphanage—from the Jewish ghetto of Warsaw to a train headed for the Treblinka concentration camp. None survived. Korczak was offered the chance to escape deportation because he was a greatly admired figure in Poland before the war, known as “The Old Doctor.” He refused, saying that the children would be more frightened without him. Instead, he walked with the children, holding a handmade version of King Matt’s green flag.
I believe any happy ending must come from us, a century after King Matt first appeared in print. It is up to us to not just grieve past losses—and current ones—but to act for the future.
I’m sure that no one person, child or adult, would have any more luck than Matt in uniting the children of the world to overcome all our divisions and grievances. But I am also sure that we can each do our part.
Supporting children, in big ways and small
I discussed these topics recently with a group of parent educators. A mom who supports adoptive and foster parents talked about helping her own teenage daughter cope with the painful flood of information about wars and human suffering, especially the suffering of children. The group admired the way this mom advocated for her child without overprotecting her. She saw that her daughter did not need to be protected from reality, but did need time and space to process all that trauma . Even though she succeeded so well in her own home and gave so much to other families, she apologized for not doing enough to solve the big problems of the world. The rest of the group interrupted her self-criticism. Her protection of her daughter inspired us. We all saw it as very meaningful because, in fact, there are no small actions. Everything we do ripples outward.
Meaningful action—whether it is to support one child or move the world closer to caring for every child—requires that we face grief and suffering with courage. Action requires us to remember to feel joy and to share our joys, because joy is not a denial of grief, but a proper balance for it. It is a paradox that joy can be a better motivator of action than despair.
Some questions for self-reflection
If you wonder where to start, here are a few questions for self-reflection or to discuss together with other parents or anyone concerned about children:
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Lawrence J. Cohen, Ph.D., teaches parenting skills and trains parent educators worldwide. He is the author of Playful Parenting and co-author of Unplug and Play: The Ultimate Illustrated Guide to Roughhousing with Your Kids.
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This article is part of the Bringwise Psychology Journal — daily insights on human behavior, mental health, and personal growth.