Who Do We Really Create When We Write for Young Readers?

Introduction: The Uncomfortable Question

When we sit down to write a book for young readers, we carry within us an image of the child for whom we are writing. But who is this child? Is it the real child, the one who will hold our book in their hands? Or is it rather a construction: an ideal child, imagined, shaped by our own experiences, our cultural values, and our childhood memories?

This question is not merely a philosophical exercise. It touches the very heart of our mission at Agafay Books: to create books that authentically resonate with young readers in Morocco and the Arab world. To achieve this, we must first acknowledge an uncomfortable truth: the child we imagine when we write is never entirely the real child.

Childhood Has Not Always Existed (As We Know It)

French historian Philippe Ariès taught us something fundamental: the very idea of childhood — as a distinct period of life, with its particular needs and unique nature — is a relatively recent invention in human history.

In medieval Europe, children were considered small adults as soon as they could walk and talk. Anthropologist Margaret Mead showed that different cultures around the world have radically different conceptions of what a child is, what they need, and how they should be treated.

What does this mean for us, as creators of children’s books? That our understanding of childhood is not universal or objective. It is deeply rooted in our cultural context, our historical moment, and our social values.

Who Is the Child in Our Book?

Every children’s author works with an image of the child reader. The problem? These images vary enormously, even among authors from the same culture or the same era.

Some authors imagine a child who has “a strong natural resistance to false morality” and can “see through an adult with a moral message to grind”. For them, the child is a natural lie detector who must be respected by avoiding any disguised lesson.

Others believe in the “responsibility of the profession” and feel they must “convey a certain ethic” through their books. For them, the child needs moral guidance, offered gently but with intention.

Some believe that “childhood and maturity” form a continuum with no clear boundaries, and that one must write without condescension. Others insist that writing for children necessarily involves an “asymmetrical relationship” — recognizing that the adult author and child reader are not equal in experience or understanding.

Who is right? Perhaps all of them. Perhaps none. Because each creates a different child in their imagination.

The Trap of the Child’s Voice

We often hear critics claim that a good children’s book must be written “through the eyes and voice of the child themselves”. It’s a seductive ideal: to give voice to the child, to let them express themselves directly.

But let’s think for a moment: who writes these words? An adult. Who chooses which “child’s eyes” to show? An adult. Who decides which “child’s voice” is authentic? An adult.

Even when we directly ask children what they think of our books, we interpret their answers through our own filters. A child who says a book is “not bad” or that “the story is good” doesn’t really give us access to their inner reading experience. We remain, always, on the outside, imagining.

The Constructed Child vs. The Real Child

British theorist Jacqueline Rose offers us a provocative but essential perspective: the child in children’s literature is a construction invented for the needs of authors and critics, not an observable, objective entity.

This doesn’t mean that real children don’t exist, of course. It means that when we write “for children,” we are actually writing for an idea of the child — an idea that responds to our own emotional, cultural, and psychological needs as adults.

This recognition is not a failure. Rather, it’s an invitation to humility and awareness. If we accept that we create an imaginary child, we can then ask ourselves: which child do we choose to create? And why?

The Child in Cultural Context

This question becomes even more crucial when we consider the cultural dimensions of childhood.

The modern idea of the child as an innocent being, who must be protected from the adult world and left free to play and explore, is a specific product of Western liberal thought, rooted in Enlightenment philosophy and amplified by 20th-century educational movements.

This conception of childhood has been exported around the world, often through colonial structures. An Indonesian critic notes that “the history of children’s books in Indonesia is found entirely in the history of the government publishing agency established in 1908 by the Government of the Netherlands East Indies.”

In Japan, it was in the 1920s, with “the growth of large cities, the birth of a middle class, and ideas of European liberalism” that “a modern concept of the child” took shape.

In Africa, children’s books were introduced by colonial powers, creating “an ambivalent mixture of respect and rejection” — a tension that persists today between preserving local culture and adopting imported literary forms.

Creating from Within Our Culture

For us, in Morocco and the Arab world, this history raises an essential question: how do we create children’s literature that honors our own conceptions of childhood, our own family and community values, our own rhythms of growth and maturation?

Our book “Ushen’s Adventure: The Quest for Water” embodies this intention. We are not seeking to import foreign models of children’s storytelling. We draw from our Saharan heritage — the fennec fox, or “Ushen” from our traditional tales — to create from within, with respect for our traditions, with language that resonates in our homes and our hearts.

This means:

Not moralizing, but transmitting ancestral values like courage, loyalty, and generosity in an organic way
Not “modernizing” artificially, but revitalizing our ancient stories in a contemporary format that stimulates imagination
Not translating Western concepts, but drawing from our own symbols — the Sahara Desert, Ushen the fennec master of his sandy world, the quest for water as a metaphor for life
Not presuming to know exactly who the child is, but writing with honesty and humility, recognizing that we are building a bridge between ancestral wisdom and new generations

The Child We Choose

If we accept that we can never truly “know” the child for whom we write, we paradoxically free ourselves to create with more authenticity.

Instead of pretending to speak ON BEHALF of children or FOR children in an absolute sense, we can acknowledge that we are creating an invitation — an extended hand. We imagine a child who might benefit from this story, who might find comfort, understanding, and joy in it.

We choose to create a child in our books who:

Deserves the truth, offered gently
Has the capacity to understand complexity, when presented with clarity
Seeks both to recognize themselves and to discover
Is rooted in their culture while being open to the world
Deserves our respect, our tenderness, and our honesty

Conclusion: Writing with Awareness

The child we imagine when we write is never entirely the real child who will read our book. But this recognition should not paralyze us. On the contrary, it should inspire us to write with more awareness, more humility, and more authenticity.

At Agafay Books, we believe that the best children’s books are born when authors:

Recognize that they are constructing an image of the child
Consciously choose which image to create, and why
Anchor themselves in their own culture with pride and sincerity
Write with the heart, while keeping the mind clear

Our mission is to create books that feel like “a trusted granma — calm, honest, and kind”. Not because we know exactly who each child reader is, but because we consciously choose to create this reassuring presence in our pages.

The child we imagine deserves our best work. And the first step toward that best work is to recognize, with humility, that we are imagining them — and to choose to imagine them with love, respect, and cultural authenticity.

About Agafay Books: We create books that accompany young readers in Morocco and the Arab world through important moments in their lives, with gentleness, truth, and cultural pride.