My final stop carried me far from the city, right to the fresh, pine-scented air of the French Alps.

Here, surrounded by mountains and wilderness, children from poor Parisan neighborhoods spent several weeks at an early form of summer camp referred to as the colonie de vacances. The children ran freely through fields, laughing as they chased one another between the rows of trees. Their clothes were visibly worn but their faces, their innocent little faces glowed with health. A socialist organizer explained that these colonies were meant to “give working-class children a piece of childhood that poverty often steals.” They learned songs, hiked the beautiful mountains, and listened to lessons about cooperation and solidarity rather than strict patriotism.

Standing at the edge of the lake, I felt quite relieved. The laughter of the kids echoed across the water, acting as a reminder that new ideas of childhood, playful and healthy, were emerging. This setting showed me a final truth: The meaning of childhood in France was changing yet again, imagining a more humane future hopefully to come for the rest.