Numbers of 'only children' are growing. Read Sara Barrett's response to the trend.
By Sara Barrett
Complex cultural changes have brought about a growing trend towards families with just one child, yet only children are often thought of as 'other' and singled out for societal concern. Has the time arrived to leave old stereotypes behind?
My grandmother and mother were only children; so is my Mother-in-Law. I am one, and so is my son. To me, being an only child is an unremarkable way to grow up, but over the years I have been in countless conversations where it has become a hot topic of debate. Friends who have a single child themselves, particularly, have sounded me out about what life is like without siblings and I think the reason is this: there is a commonly held view that only children are 'different'. Only children are singled out for a particular kind of cultural anxiety, but I believe it's time we got over it.
In Britain today, there is an increasing demographic shift towards families with one child. For a variety of reasons, including recent cultural changes, it is evident that more couples are limiting the size of their family. As only children become more commonplace, our cultural commentators are speculating about the implications of raising a generation of 'little emperors', both on the individuals themselves, and on society as a whole.
A friend of mine, who has just the one daughter, recently expressed a fairly archetypal view; she was worried about having an only child. After I'd finished having a tantrum about her attitude, I asked her why she was so concerned. She said the thought of her daughter experiencing prejudice, being lonely, becoming spoiled, lacking support, even being considered a freak, bothered her. Freak? Thanks. She genuinely seemed to have forgotten about my history until I reminded her. How we laughed.
I had an averagely happy childhood, with the usual swings and roundabouts, and although I was born in the early sixties, when it was unusual to be an only child, I don’t remember much fuss being made about it. I think that is the point. In absorbing the stereotype of the only child and worrying about it, visiting web sites and reading up on it, my friend was perhaps making the fact of her child being 'an only' into more of an issue than it needed to be. Sibling-free status is just part of the big lottery that is life in general; it's how you handle it that matters.
My friend agreed, but reminded me that only children are generally regarded with some suspicion. I would hesitate to call it prejudice, weighed up against the real thing, Common misconceptions are certainly out there – that an only child is necessarily a 'little emperor', a 'spoiled brat', or has 'an over-developed sense of entitlement'. But all children get called names at some point, don't they? Why is it worse to be an only child than to have, say, a big nose? I don’t believe there is anything more fundamentally 'wrong' with most onlies than there is with others who were raised with sweet and sharing - or scrapping and squabbling - siblings.
Given that her family were scrappers, she was quiet on that point, but she still had concerns about her daughter experiencing loneliness. Adolescence can be a particularly lonely time for many, whether they have siblings or not. Think of the single girl with three sports mad brothers, or the two sisters so unalike as to have nothing in common but their parents.
Families with multiple siblings are often romanticised, but read any agony column, and you’ll soon see that they are not always the warm, unconditional support network of family myth. And when not with others, only children tend to like their own company, and are creative with it, which is a valuable skill in the long run. Loneliness is ultimately part of the human condition, anyway.
At this point, my friend looked at me askance, but raised the issue that is often the crux of the anxiety surrounding only children; that her daughter would become 'spoiled'. I'm not sure I know what this means. The only child does have a larger proportional slice of the parental resources, but allocation of time and money is surely down to good management. One close friend from a large family will recount how her parents made her do daily housework, whilst her brothers got away with the odd bit of car-washing. In the only child household, if there is a child-appropriate chore to be done, whatever it is, there is only one candidate, so such tasks don't become gender loaded. Add Saturday jobs at 14, learning to manage money, and you begin to build a picture of an individual who, far from being spoiled and dependent, is prepared for a necessarily self-reliant future.
My friend had heard that only children can experience too much parental focus and pressure. This is true; as an only, you can be the sole repository of the hopes and gender ambitions of both your parents – Dad hopes you’ll be good at science, perhaps; Mum hopes you’ll be competent and successful as a woman. Some only children can come to regard this inheritance as an imperative to be good at everything. But it is all a matter of perspective. I'm inclined to think that both sides of the legacy can add up to a socially useful, well-enough rounded adult. But then, I would say that, wouldn't I?
Instead of viewing being an only child as a kind of impediment, I suggested, why don't you think of your daughter's singular status in another way, as just another strand of colour in the general mix. No-one knows what the long term social effects of raising a generation of 'little emperors' will be, but given the increasing demographic of only children, perhaps they, we, will gradually cease to be considered with suspicion as rare hot-house flowers, and just come to be valued differently. Why are only children singled out for cultural anxiety? Only kids are all right. Really. Get over us.
