If you somehow missed the global phenomenon that was Squid Game, here's the quick version: it's a Korean survival drama where 456 desperate people compete in deadly children's games for a massive cash prize. It dropped on Netflix in September 2021 and became the platform's most-watched series ever. Like, ever ever—in 94 countries.
But here's what made it different from every other dystopian death-match show: it wasn't in English. It featured an entirely Korean cast. And it didn't apologize for being deeply, authentically Korean in its storytelling, humor, and cultural references.
And the world showed up for it anyway.
You might be thinking, "Cool, a Korean show got popular. What does this have to do with my kids and screen time?"
Everything, actually.
Squid Game became a watershed moment for what representation looks like in global entertainment—and your kids are growing up in the world it helped reshape. Whether they've seen the show or not (and please, it's TV-MA for very good reasons, more on that below), they're consuming media in an era where the default hero doesn't have to look, sound, or come from the same place.
Before Squid Game, the conventional wisdom in Hollywood was that American audiences wouldn't watch subtitled content. That international stories needed to be "adapted" (read: whitewashed) to succeed here. That kids especially wouldn't have the patience for reading dialogue.
Squid Game—along with films like Parasite and shows like Money Heist—proved that was nonsense. Turns out, if the story is compelling enough, people will show up. Your kids will show up. They'll read subtitles. They'll get invested in characters whose lives look nothing like theirs.
Here's where it gets complicated: despite being rated TV-MA (that's the TV equivalent of an R rating), Squid Game became huge with kids and teens. The playground games, the distinctive green tracksuits, the creepy doll from Red Light Green Light—all of it became meme fodder and Halloween costumes.
Elementary schools had to send home letters asking parents to talk to their kids about the show because children were literally playing "Squid Game" at recess, complete with pretend eliminations.
So even if you've kept your 8-year-old from watching it (good call, by the way), they've probably absorbed its cultural impact through YouTube, TikTok, Roblox recreations, and playground conversations.
What makes Squid Game interesting from a diversity lens isn't just that it's Korean—it's that it told a distinctly Korean story about class struggle, generational trauma, and societal pressure without diluting any of that for Western audiences.
The show trusted viewers to do the work. To understand context. To sit with cultural differences. To see themselves in characters who didn't look or sound like them.
And this is actually a gift for our kids.
When children grow up seeing heroes, villains, love interests, and complex characters from different cultures presented authentically—not as stereotypes or sidekicks—it fundamentally shapes their worldview. It normalizes the idea that compelling stories can come from anywhere, that the "default" human experience isn't white and American.
Your kids are growing up in the first generation where the biggest show in the world might be in Korean. Or Spanish. Or Hindi. Where the most popular music might be K-pop. Where their favorite YouTuber might be from the Philippines.
That's not just representation—it's preparation for the actual world they're inheriting.
Now, let's be real: Squid Game is absolutely not appropriate for young kids. It's graphically violent, emotionally intense, and deals with adult themes like gambling addiction, exploitation, and suicide.
The irony is that a show that did so much to advance representation in global media became wildly popular with an audience too young to actually watch it safely.
This creates a tricky parenting moment: you want your kids to grow up consuming diverse media and understanding global perspectives, but you also don't want them watching people get shot during Red Light Green Light.
If you want to capture some of that "global storytelling" magic without the nightmare fuel:
Ages 6-10:
- Hilda (British/Scandinavian folklore)
- Bluey (Australian family dynamics)
- Carmen Sandiego (global adventure with Latina lead)
Ages 10-13:
- Avatar: The Last Airbender (Asian-inspired fantasy world)
- The Worst Witch (British magic school)
- Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (diverse post-apocalyptic adventure)
Ages 14+:
- Alice in Borderland (Japanese survival thriller, less graphic than Squid Game)
- Money Heist (Spanish heist drama)
- Lupin (French mystery with a Black lead reimagining a classic character)
If your teen has watched Squid Game (or is asking to), here are some conversation starters:
"What did you notice about how this show is different from most American shows?"
"How did reading subtitles change your experience of watching?"
"What do you think the show is saying about money and fairness?"
"Did you learn anything about Korean culture from watching?"
These questions open up discussions about representation, economic inequality, cultural storytelling, and media literacy—all without being preachy about it.
The Squid Game phenomenon revealed something important: kids are hungry for stories that feel different from the usual Hollywood formula. They're not intimidated by subtitles. They're curious about other cultures. They want complex narratives that respect their intelligence.
But it also revealed that content ratings exist for good reasons, and viral popularity doesn't make something age-appropriate.
The good news? The success of Squid Game has opened doors for more international content on streaming platforms. Netflix, Disney+, and others are investing heavily in stories from around the world. Your kids have access to a richer, more diverse media landscape than any previous generation.
Your job isn't to shield them from global stories—it's to help them find the right ones for their age and maturity level.
Squid Game isn't appropriate for young kids, full stop. But the conversations it sparked about whose stories get told and who gets to be the hero on screen? Those are conversations worth having with kids of all ages.
We're living through a real shift in global entertainment. The shows your kids watch, the games they play, the music they listen to—it's all more international, more diverse, and more culturally varied than what we grew up with.
That's genuinely exciting. It means they're learning, almost by osmosis, that compelling stories and interesting people come from everywhere. That subtitles aren't a barrier. That "foreign" just means "from somewhere else."
Just maybe wait until they're actually 17+ before letting them watch the death games. There are plenty of other ways to get there.
If your teen is asking to watch: Have an honest conversation about the violence and mature themes. Consider watching the first episode together and checking in about their reaction. Learn more about how to approach mature content with teens
.
If your younger kid knows about it from school: Acknowledge that it's a popular show that's meant for older viewers, and help them find age-appropriate alternatives that still feel "cool" and global in scope.
If you want to expand their media diet: Start exploring international content together. Let them pick a country and find a show or movie from there. Make it an adventure in cultural exploration rather than a lecture about diversity.
The world is bigger than Hollywood. Your kids already know that. Now you can help them explore it safely.


