In the second life of Marianne McCann, childhood never ended. Though in real life a woman well over 30 (by her description), Marianne's avatar stands knee high to a June bug, with pigtails wrapped in pink ribbon. In Second Life, she mostly plays with avatars who look her age (there are hundreds of them), attends elementary school, goes to summer camp, and returns home to loving parents who tuck her in at night. She's even turned the trappings of childhood into a business-- her store, You Know For Kids (direct teleport here), is located in a kind of mini-mall built like an elementary school, and there she sells SL versions of Lite Bright(tm), Eazy Bake Oven(tm), and other nostalgic toys from 70s. ("Stuff dat I wanted as a kid," as she puts it.) While this recreation of lost innocence is presented without irony, you can still occasionally see the adult behind it peeking out. (The store's name, after all, is evidently borrowed from the Coen Brothers' Hudsucker Proxy, not exactly the kind of movie a kindergartener watches.)
If you've been half-following Second Life's more recent controversies, this last paragraph will probably seem strange, since the connotations of avatars roleplaying as children have been anything but innocent. Rather, they've been associated with allegations (by the media and European authorities) of simulated pedophilia, and worse. And while the Lindens have expressly forbade that kind of behavior in-world, non-sexual roleplaying is still permitted, and persists-- often, Marianne tells me, by people like her who have been abused as children themselves, and yearn to recapture in Second Life an innocence that was so atrociously ripped from them. So now this subculture of adult Residents roleplaying as children exists in a social purgatory, adamantly protecting itself from occasional pedophiles who'd exploit them, while also enduring the suspicion of Residents who assume the worst-- or just find the whole notion of playacting as kids to be essentially creepy and suspect. (In a distinct class of strangeness, that is, from roleplaying as a robot, or a magical elf, or even a humanoid furry animal.)
All this came up after Marianne McCann won New World Notes' Uncanny Valley Expo, in which she presented her avatar downcast, and close to tears. In effect, she'd turned her avatar into a form of protest against the backlash directed at all child-age avatars and the moral panic spurred by totally legitimate concerns over protecting real children. So after the contest I chatted with her, and Marianne described this community of overage kids, and her reasons for joining it. Her conversation-- painful, forthright, likely controversial to some-- after the break.