When I was six years old, I begged my dad to let me go on a mission trip. His response? “If you can raise the money, you can go.”
While most 6-year-olds aren’t thinking about suffering in the world, at that young age, I had heard my dad talk about a girl named Daisy from Nicaragua who had cerebral palsy. My dad worked for a short-term missions organization, and I grew up listening to his stories. I just knew I wanted to help in whatever small way I could. So, I took him seriously and started making and selling jewelry to raise money for the trip. After months of fundraising, my mom and I finally went on the trip, an experience that changed my life forever.
During that time, I had to advertise the trip to so many people in order to fundraise that I became known around my hometown as “the little missionary.” Even now, 15 years later, people still associate me with that trip. The kicker is, although “missionary” is what many people in my community think of me as, I do not feel a call to vocational ministry. My entire life has become categorized by one single event from my childhood. I am not the same person that I was 15 years ago, but for many, I remain forever frozen in time. And for some, my past has remained far more important than my future.
This is a phenomenon that child stars know all too well.
One moment, one breakout success, and suddenly the world refuses to see them as anything else. Grace VanderWaal experienced this firsthand when she won “America’s Got Talent” (AGT) at just 12 years old. She became a household name overnight, but she also became trapped in that version of herself, even as she grew beyond it.
VanderWaal’s AGT audition took the world by storm when she played her original song, “I Don’t Know My Name,” with her ukulele. While she was initially praised, the admiration quickly faded. Years later, VanderWaal is not always thought of as a good singer. She became the butt of jokes, with critics mocking her for “singing in cursive.” Even longtime fans like myself get ridiculed for continuing to support her despite her growth as an artist.
As is the case with many child stars, nearly a decade later, she is still asked about her AGT experience. While she has grown artistically, many of her former fans refuse to accept her evolution. She was even asked to play the ukulele in the recent box-office flop Megalopolis as a nod to the instrument that gave her a rise to fame, even though it is no longer her primary instrument of choice. This phenomenon is the focal point of her new album entitled “Childstar.”
In VanderWaal’s Instagram announcement of the album, which came out on April 4, she stated, “A lot of people feel close to my story and nostalgic for my past. As much as I would like to honor that, it’s cathartic for me to proclaim truth and what is mine…I want this project to be the last time I ever speak on my past.”
The album utilizes a musical style that is very different from the style she played as a child. With a focus on themes like girlhood, grief, identity and control, this album contains an immense amount of depth which truly displays her growth as a musical artist.
One of my favorite lines from this album comes from the song “Proud,” which states, “Designed and made/Does it impress how well I play?/Did I make you proud?” Living under the thumbprint of the world’s eye leaves young children with a need to meet certain kinds of expectations that are often unrealistic. Because of this, VanderWaal is largely disillusioned with the idea of fame. In an interview with Harper’s Bazaar she stated, “Growing up, the most harmful part was the performance. I felt like I was always performing.” VanderWaal no longer feels the need to perform for an audience in the way that she used to, but is now creating music that she is proud of without sacrificing her own identity.
When I read that interview, I couldn’t help but see the universality of her experiences. While you and I may not be able to relate to being a child star, many of us, particularly those of us who are women, can relate to the idea of being pressured by society to perform a certain way. If you are a straight-A student, it is possible that at a certain point it devolved from being passionate about academics into needing to get the grade that everyone expects of you. If you are an athlete, maybe at a certain point it stopped being about the love of the game and became primarily about making your team, coach or parents proud.
VanderWaal’s story, and my own, highlight a universal truth: the world often defines us by who we were rather than who we are becoming. Whether it is a childhood mission trip or a breakout moment of fame, these defining experiences can feel like cages when others refuse to acknowledge our growth. But as VanderWaal boldly asserts in “Childstar,” we are not obligated to remain frozen in time. Growth is not a betrayal of our past; it is a testament to our journey. While the world may struggle to see us beyond a singular version of ourselves, we owe it to ourselves to embrace the fullness of who we are becoming without apology.
It is for this reason that I implore you, dear reader, to allow Grace VanderWaal, and all children for that matter, to have the one opportunity that they so desperately need more than anything else. The opportunity to grow.
Photo courtesy of Getty Images.
