This post was updated Sept. 7 at 4:55 p.m.
As a child, I lived for birthday parties.
What I dreaded, however, was asking my parents the question that followed the festivities: “Could I stay for a sleepover?”
After many disappointments, I learned not to bother asking my parents this dreaded question. The answer would always be “Uno nunca sabe.”
This phrase – once a source of frustration – is now an inside joke among Latino young people, who were told the same by their parents. Its direct translation “you never know” appears innocuous enough – but its implications run deeper.
When my friends or classmates extended an invitation for a sleepover, I would offer an excuse – a doctor’s appointment that never existed or a sports tournament I purportedly had to attend. Sometimes they called my bluff. When I would try to tell the truth, I was met with confused stares.
At the ripe age of 13, I felt like a big baby.
I held a general grasp of my parents’ intentions, which stemmed from a place of concern. Hearing about news headlines where children were abused or harmed at their friends’ houses only furthered their aversion to sleepovers.
Their reasoning isn’t without its unfortunate justification. In March 2024, the story of an Oregon man who spiked the smoothies of his daughter’s young friends with benzodiazepine rocked the nation. It also reignited a conversation about the overall safety of sleepovers, both on social media and within my own familial circle.
Sleepovers are a distinctly American tradition, and their depictions in movies and shows left a lasting impression on my young mind. I wanted to fling stuffed animals around a room and hide under a sleeping bag as my friend’s mom walked by, stifling a giggle with the other girls. But my idealized version of a sleepover never came.
What may have seemed like a minor obstacle was everything to me. I felt ostracized, left to listen to my friends gushing about putting fake nails on each other or prank calling restaurants, while I had nothing of my own to share.
“Why couldn’t my parents be as permissive as theirs?” was the question constantly echoing through my angsty tween mind. They wanted me to be safe, but I wanted to prove that I could be safe and have fun.
Among the Latino community, there is a general wariness toward strangers, especially among the older generation. A 2023 YouGov poll shows that only 55% of Latino adults allow their children to attend sleepovers, compared to 80% of white parents.
Sleepovers became a cultural divide that ran deep between me and my grade school friends – particularly those who were white.
I wasn’t alone: many of my Latino friends grew up hearing the same sentiment and had parents who wouldn’t budge on when it came to the topic of sleepovers, citing similar reasons.
It’s no secret that our parents’ values and traditions are different. For the most part, our culture favors a stricter approach to parenting. With regard to sleepovers, putting their foot down was my parents’ way of ensuring my safety and keeping me close by – a point of view that I now understand.
When envisioning myself as a parent, I meet the same dilemma. Is allowing your children to mingle with their friends worth running the risk that something may happen?
“Uno nunca sabe” rolls off my tongue as a joke now, but I wonder if there will be a time when I say it and mean it.
Nonetheless, I believe that sleepovers are quintessential to childhood. Balance in children’s lives is key. Despite the understandable concerns some parents may have, exclusion from fun events, such as sleepovers, deprives children of core memories and friendships.
Rather than looking at safety and freedom as mutually exclusive, parents – especially within the Latino community – should allow their children to have fun with sensible limits. Checking in through text every hour or so, sharing locations and fostering a trusting relationship between parent and child go a long way in ensuring safety and contentment.
And, no, I still haven’t had a sleepover.
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