The other day in my creative writing class, my instructor was asked about his opinion on Hunger Games, to which he replied, “When I turned 18, I put childish things away.”

For the first time, I was actually offended by something my professor said.

Was he truly suggesting that, simply because he had been alive for a certain amount of time, that he was morally obligated to shut out a portion of the world without any discrimination beyond that it was “childish”. I found this absurd, especially coming from a writer.

As storytellers, we’ve always had to keep at least some element of childishness, whether it’s enjoying the fresh air of the woods, throwing jokes back and forth with a friend, or simply feeling an emotion attachment with the struggles of a dynamic character.

Certainly these examples are seen as more “socially-acceptable” than, say, watching Dora the Explorer or playing tag, but on a basic level, they aren’t all that different. All of these actions have a kind of uselessness to them, a lack of productivity to which the work-focused man might object. Fall air will not drastically extend your life span, jokes will not change local culture, and that character doesn’t even exist beyond our own imaginations.

Still, we take something away from each interaction, if not on a superficial, knowledgeable level, then on subconscious, spiritual level. Perhaps we don’t feel a deeper understanding of life or what it is to be human, but we’re refreshed, renewed, and more alive. We can sit and pretend that each man and woman is but machine designed to reach some higher purpose, and I won’t argue that that is indeed the goal. But we are still human; we still suffer from the various emotional ailments that are inherent in being a living creature. And as much as my professor believes some things are childish, he still makes jokes and laughs just like the rest of us.

I’m not saying everyone should act like a child all the time; certain responsibilities come with age and simply can’t (and shouldn’t) be avoided. I’m not saying that childish things shouldn’t be put away. What I’m arguing is that we should have reason for leaving them behind. If you no longer find Transformers interesting, very well! Pass them on to someone else because you’ll gain nothing from them. But if you (like me and a number of other adults) still have a nostalgic craving for something from your past, then enjoy it—Don’t be ashamed of it! I’ll be the first to admit I sometimes want to build a blank fort with my friends. And if a book or movie is gripping but lacks all or any deeper meaning, there is still nothing wrong with enjoying it.

Like trees, we’ve all grown out from our child-selves, but they can still reside within us. Not everyone needs to hold onto their childhood. Nonetheless, if you find you no longer want to wear a mask for answering doors on Halloween or when the fresh crunch of a heavy snowfall doesn’t spark some emotion deep within your, then the inner child has died.

Let’s do what we can to keep them alive.