Children’s Books Are for Grown-Ups, Too!

By Tia Hinz, M.Ed. M.A

I have a confession: some of the books that have made me think the hardest, feel the most, and look at the world a little differently have been less than 40 pages long.

And yes, they were written for children.

I have spent years working in early childhood education, which means I have also spent years reading picture books. A LOT of picture books. Some I've read so many times that I could probably recite them from memory. Some books make me groan internally when a child pulls them off the shelf for the 47th time, and there are others I will happily read over and over again.

But somewhere along the way, I stopped thinking about children's books as just books for children.

Because children's literature is doing some incredible things.

Picture Books Tackle Really Big Ideas

There's this assumption that because a book is written for children, its ideas must also be small.

They aren't.

Children's books talk about racism, disability, gender, grief, immigration, environmental justice, loneliness, war, identity, family, activism, history, friendship, and belonging.

They have to do it in a way a child can understand.

We Are Water Protectors by Carole Lindstrom introduces children to environmental justice, Indigenous sovereignty, and our responsibility to protect the natural world.

A Different Pond by Bao Phi tells a quiet story about a father and son fishing together—but underneath that small moment is immigration, memory, sacrifice, family, and the experience of building a life somewhere new.

Nour's Secret Library by Wafa' Tarnowska takes children into a story about war and the extraordinary act of protecting books and stories amid destruction.

Those aren't little ideas.

They're enormous ones.

And sometimes a picture book's simplicity makes those ideas hit even harder.

They Let Us Experience the World Differently

One of my absolute favorites is The Black Book of Colors by Menena Cottin.

It's a book about color—but it asks you to experience color without relying solely on sight. Through texture and description, colors become things you can touch, taste, hear, and imagine.

That's what great children's literature can do.

It doesn't just tell children, "People experience the world differently."

It lets them experience a tiny piece of that difference themselves.

And adults need opportunities to do that, too.

Representation Matters—Especially When It Isn't the Whole Story

I love books that intentionally teach children about identity and inclusion.

But I also love books where diverse children get to exist.

They get to go on adventures. Be witches. Have bad days. Love their families. Make friends. Dream enormous dreams.

Books like Stella's Stellar Hair by Yesenia Moises, The Proudest Blue by Ibtihaj Muhammad, Born Ready by Jodie Patterson, Rainbow Boy by Taylor Rouanzion, and Just Like Me by Vanessa Brantley-Newton give children opportunities to see different identities, families, cultures, and experiences reflected in literature.

Sometimes the lesson isn't:

Here is why this person is different.

Sometimes it's simply:

This person belongs in stories, too.

That's powerful.

Children's Books Can Be Beautifully Weird

And PLEASE let children's books be weird.

Not every book needs to teach an Important Life Lesson™.

Sometimes I want Nobody Hugs a Cactus.

Sometimes I want I Am Bat.

Sometimes I want Luigi, the Spider Who Wanted to Be a Kitten.

Sometimes I want another ridiculous installment of There Was an Old Lady swallowing something she absolutely has no business swallowing.

And apparently I have a particular weakness for spooky little creatures because Gustavo, the Shy Ghost, Vlad, the Fabulous Vampire, and Leila, the Perfect Witch by Flavia Z. Drago are firmly in my favorites.

Joy matters.

Absurdity matters.

Imagination matters.

Children deserve books that exist simply because they're delightful.

Frankly, adults do too.

Sometimes Children's Books Say Things Adults Have Made Too Complicated

This may be what I love most about them.

Adults are really good at making things complicated.

Children ask:

Why?

Why can't they do that?

Why doesn't that person have a home?

Why can't boys wear that?

Why are people hurting each other?

Why can't everyone come?

Why aren't they allowed?

And suddenly you're sitting on a carpet surrounded by preschoolers having a philosophical discussion you absolutely did not anticipate when you opened the book five minutes ago.

Books like Amanda Gorman's Something, Someday and Change Sings take enormous ideas about hope, community, justice, and creating change and make them accessible without making them meaningless.

Your Life Matters by Chris Singleton carries a message that children deserve to hear—and honestly, adults sometimes desperately need to hear too.

Layla's Happiness by Mariahadessa Ekere Tallie asks us to notice something deceptively simple: What makes you happy?

Let's ask ourselves these questions more often.

And Then There Are the Books That Are Just... Art

This is another reason I wish more adults explored the children's section.

Picture books are an incredible intersection of literature and visual art.

The illustrations aren't decorations added after the "real" book is finished. They're part of the storytelling.

Millie Fleur's Poison Garden by Christy Mandin is one of those books for me.

It's strange. It's beautiful. It's botanical. It's a little dark.

Obviously, I love it.

There's something magical about opening a picture book and realizing that every page has been intentionally created as part of the experience—the typography, colors, illustrations, page turns, words, negative space.

You aren't just reading it.

You're experiencing it.

Read a Children's Book

So here's my challenge:

The next time you're at your library, wander into the children's section.

Not because you're finding something for your child.

Not because you're a teacher.

Not because you need a baby-shower gift.

Pick something because you want to read it.

Grab something beautiful.

Something strange.

Something that makes you laugh.

Something about a person whose life looks nothing like yours.

Something about history you don't know.

Something that makes you uncomfortable.

Something with a spider who desperately wants to be a kitten.

Sit down.

Read it.

It might take five minutes.

And you might be surprised by how long you keep thinking about it afterward.

Children's books are written with children in mind.

That doesn't mean children are the only ones who need their stories.

Grown-ups, I promise: you're allowed in the picture-book section, too.