Who Are You Kiddo-ing? Is the word condescending, or just annoying?
When I was growing up, we had a weekly show called Movie of the Week or Hallmark Movie of the Week or Afterschool Special or something equally 1970s. Invariably, there was either inappropriate content for a seven-year old, or worse, adults sending a not-so-subtle message to the youth of the day. “Kiddo, there’s no free ride. You have to work hard to get anywhere in this world.” Or, “I know you don’t want to hear this kiddo, but I am on your team.” The minute they used the word kiddo all children in our solar system immediately internalized the following:
1. Not only are you not on my “team,” you don’t even know the name of my team, its mascot, or the game we are playing.
2. You are out of touch. Seriously.
3. You don’t remember what it was like to be my age. OR, you might never have even been my age.
For those of you who are fans of the word, or have never really thought about its use before, cool your jets. This isn’t about you. This is about how we are relating to and being heard by our children. This applies not just to parents, but to coaches, teachers, health practitioners and anyone who works with kids and speaks to a larger issue other than the use of a single word.
Maybe when you were growing up you interpreted the word affectionately, because it was being used by someone with whom you had a healthy and respectful relationship. But most often, it is used to delineate a hierarchy, either in knowledge, experience, power, or most often in age.
I was watching an episode of the medical drama, Doc (don’t judge, I could be watching a lot worse) and the 60-year-old doctor called her 50-something-year-old protégé, “kiddo.” I cringed for them both, and for the writers. But the use of the word was clear. SHE was the expert, the senior, the wise sage, the Mr. Miyagi. And the physician she was talking to was the subordinate, the student, the child, the little grasshopper.
I have never heard the word used in a way that gave me the warm fuzzies. As it wasn’t used in our home, I can’t trace that back to some deep-seated resentment toward my parents, but I have thought a lot about this. And at one point my working theory was that people who don’t have children are the biggest culprits. Nope. I was gobsmacked when I started noticing parents saying it as well. Had I just been transported to a 1950s Andy Griffith movie about fishing?
And why does this word chap my hide?
Many use this word (especially those over 70) with genuine affection, replacing it easily with “honey,” “love,” “sweetie,” etc. To them it is a term of endearment. But here’s the kicker; children don’t describe other children as “kiddo.” It is strictly an adult speaking to or about someone who is determined by them to be juvenile. It isn’t that kids don’t know they are kids. But the term itself is infantilizing and according to Psychology Today, “This is telling. In clinical language, we tend to put a priority on using language to describe people that the people themselves would accept. When there is a divergence between the two, it is typically because providers adopt more clinical and descriptive language. For example, some people who use drugs in certain ways may describe themselves as ‘addicts,’ while providers might instead describe them as having a ‘substance use disorder.’
This kind of linguistic divergence is not unproblematic, but it is at least familiar. ‘Kiddo’ is the only case I can think of where providers regularly use an informal and slang-inflected term to describe clients, in a way that clients would not choose for themselves.”
Which is ironic really, because many adults use the term as a way of being relatable to their kids or patients. Not only are the youth of today more sophisticated in many ways than we were, but they are attuned to a higher level of communication. We like to discuss the many ways that our generations were better off than our children’s. To which I wholeheartedly agree. But while they can’t use a map, read handwriting, or know what a fax machine is, they are exposed to communication at a much higher level and for much longer each day than we ever were. This exposure can create a more advanced level of social awareness, specifically in the way that people communicate with one another.
Why does this matter? Well, we already have a communication gap by the “different generation” default. We don’t wear jewelry, we are “dripped up.” We aren’t leaving, we are “dipping.” We don’t drive, we “whip.” Do we really need another way to televise that we don’t relate, don’t get it, are out of touch, or are “Unc” (old)? This isn’t about us being the “cool parents” or BFFs with our charges, it is about sharing and imparting our messages in a way that gives them a higher chance of being heard.
So, when in doubt, as teachers referring to your young subjects, how about calling them “students.” As physicians, your clients are “patients” or, at a push, “young adults.” And when speaking directly with them, you don’t need slang. You need sincerity, respect, kindness, and honesty.
For some of you this may sting a little, and for that, I apologize. But sometimes the truth hurts, kiddo.






