Kids aren't doing that today—they're not together, relating, solving problems.
At eighty, Goldie Hawn has turned her attention from the screen to the minds behind it — specifically, the minds of children she believes are being quietly diminished by it. Through her MindUp foundation and a new book, she is making the case that resilience is not inherited but cultivated, and that the unstructured, sometimes uncomfortable texture of childhood is precisely where that cultivation happens. Her concern is not nostalgic sentiment but a response to a measurable crisis: youth suicide rates that have climbed steadily since she first sounded the alarm in 2003.
- Youth suicide rates have worsened since Hawn launched MindUp — it was already the third leading cause of death for children aged 10–15 in 2003, and the numbers have only darkened since.
- Hawn argues that screens have replaced the very friction children need — the boredom, the peer negotiation, the unmediated problem-solving — that quietly builds psychological strength.
- Her MindUp curriculum, now reaching students from kindergarten through eighth grade, uses neuroscience and mindfulness to give children a language for their own inner lives, something she found they almost entirely lacked.
- Her new book extends this philosophy into story form, offering young readers characters who work through difficulty together and tools — 'brain breaks' — to self-regulate when anxiety rises.
- She is equally critical of parenting culture itself, warning that shielding children from struggle and want produces fragility, not safety — a lesson she applied in her own home with her daughter Katie.
Goldie Hawn speaks about childhood with the tone of someone who has watched something precious erode. At eighty, she remembers a time when kids were simply left to figure out a day — no devices, no mediation between boredom and invention. In that unstructured space, she believes, something essential was built: the ability to tolerate friction, solve problems alongside others, and develop what she calls grit.
She made these observations while promoting her new book, "The After-School Kindness Crew," which uses group problem-solving and mindfulness tools — including 'brain breaks' for moments of rising anxiety — to teach children about emotional regulation and joy. For Hawn, this is not supplementary to childhood. It is the work of childhood itself.
The philosophy has deep roots. In 2003, alarmed by what she saw in the state of young people's mental health, she founded MindUp through the Goldie Hawn Foundation. The program teaches students from kindergarten through eighth grade to understand their own brains — how they function, how to influence what happens inside them. The urgency was real: suicide was then the third leading cause of death for children between ten and fifteen. The numbers have worsened since.
Hawn is equally direct about how children are raised outside the classroom. She has criticized what she sees as a culture of coddling — the instinct to smooth every difficulty before a child encounters it. She did not buy her daughter Katie endless clothes as she outgrew them; Katie learned to make do, and became resourceful in the process. Struggle, in Hawn's view, is not something to be protected against. It is the education.
For now, she has stepped back from acting, waiting for a role that genuinely moves her. The work that holds her attention is elsewhere — in classrooms, in the pages of a children's book, in the quiet effort to help a generation remember how to be alive together.
Goldie Hawn sits down to talk about childhood, and what comes out is a kind of lament—not angry, but urgent. At eighty, she remembers a time when kids had no choice but to be resourceful. There were no tablets, no devices mediating the space between boredom and invention. She and her friends were simply left to figure out how to spend a day, and in that figuring, something happened. They learned to solve problems together. They learned to tolerate the friction of being alive.
She made these observations recently on "Jimmy Kimmel Live!" while promoting her new book, "The After-School Kindness Crew," which teaches children about mindfulness, kindness, and joy through the lens of characters who work through problems as a group. The book also introduces "brain breaks"—moments when young readers learn to calm themselves when anxiety rises. For Hawn, this is not peripheral to childhood. It is the work of childhood itself.
This philosophy runs through everything she has built over the past two decades. In 2003, she created MindUp through the Goldie Hawn Foundation, a curriculum designed to support students from kindergarten through eighth grade in their social and emotional development. The program uses neuroscience, mindful awareness, and positive psychology as its tools. It was born from something she witnessed that frightened her: children in genuine crisis. When she looked at the state of young people's minds in the early 2000s, she found them struggling in ways that demanded intervention. Suicide was the third leading cause of death for children between ten and fifteen years old. Children were taking their own lives at ten. The numbers have only worsened since.
Hawn has spoken plainly about what drove her to act. She wanted children to feel joyful, but first she had to understand why so many did not. She discovered that students knew almost nothing about their own brains—how they worked, how to regulate what happened inside them. MindUp set out to change that, teaching young people to recognize their own minds as something they could understand and influence.
Her philosophy extends beyond curriculum into how children are raised. She has been critical of what she calls the coddling of the American mind. Children need to not get what they want. They need to struggle. She did not buy her daughter Katie endless clothes as she outgrew them; instead, Katie learned to make outfits from what she had, becoming resourceful in the process. This was not deprivation. It was education.
Hawn's own childhood shaped this view. She had freedom—the kind that looks like neglect to modern eyes but felt like permission to her. No one was watching. No one was following. She and her friends were alive, figuring things out, and she has never forgotten it. What she sees now troubles her: kids are not doing that. They are not together, relating, solving problems in real time. They are looking at screens.
At eighty, Hawn has stepped back from acting. Her last film role was in 2020, playing Mrs. Claus in "The Christmas Chronicles 2" alongside Kurt Russell. She has read scripts since then—many of them—but nothing has moved her. She is waiting for material that makes her want it badly, something funny and strange and interesting enough to pull her back. For now, she is focused on the work that seems to matter more: helping children understand their own minds and remember how to be alive together.
Citas Notables
We understood that we got in trouble. We had the kids together. We didn't have anybody looking at us, following us. We were alive and figuring out having the best day.— Goldie Hawn, on her childhood
They have to not get what they want. They have to struggle.— Goldie Hawn, on raising children
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
You're eighty years old, looking back at your childhood, and what strikes you most is the absence of devices. Why does that matter so much?
Because when there's nothing to do, you have to become creative. You have to negotiate with other kids. You fail, you try again. That's where grit lives—in the friction, not in the smooth.
But couldn't you argue that screens are just a different kind of problem-solving? Kids are learning code, playing strategy games, connecting globally.
They're learning something, sure. But they're not learning to sit with boredom. They're not learning to read another person's face and adjust. They're not learning that sometimes you don't get what you want and you have to make something from what you have.
You started MindUp because suicide rates were alarming. Has the curriculum actually moved the needle?
We've taught hundreds of thousands of kids to understand their own brains. That's not nothing. But the rates have gotten worse, not better. So either we're not reaching enough kids, or the problem is bigger than any one program can fix.
What do you mean by bigger?
The culture itself is telling kids they should be comfortable all the time. That struggle is something to avoid, not something that builds you. I didn't buy my daughter endless clothes. She learned to create. That's the opposite of what's happening now.
Do you think you're being nostalgic? That childhood was actually harder in ways you've forgotten?
Maybe. But I know what I see now, and I know what I felt then. I was alive. I was figuring things out. Kids deserve that chance.