It started earlier and more immediately than I ever expected. It was the first day of school with a streaming sun spilling warmth and goodness recklessly about on a glorious day on a placid and ever optimistic campus. It happened before the first assembly, before the first bell, before the first anything. Maverick strolled into my room, having taken care of sibling duties, and he was looking for time to kill, and, as is common in these got time on my hands situations, the phone came out. “Welcome to the phone ban,” I told him, wildly bewildered but pretty confident that he and I were the first to put the policy into action. And what followed was a case study of the modern kid without a device. Flipping through books, playing with knick knacks, spinning the chair around, and talking about dumb stuff. It was an effort, quite a lot of effort, but Maverick got through it. “What have we gotten ourselves into,” I thought.
I asked some teachers who grew up in the pre-Internet, pre-phone era, what did we do before class started or during breaks? They said: we talked to each other, doodled on paper, looked out the window, or just sat there, lost in our thoughts. We didn’t know what we didn’t have, and the need to be entertained in every moment or to be constantly connected didn’t seem to be a priority. I don’t blame this generation necessarily, since every generation has their thing. I watched a lot of TV when I was a teenager. To this day, I could tell you NBC’s Thursday night lineup, and my generation was heavily criticized for TV addiction. I’m sure the generation before mine had their own kids are getting worse because of this or that condemnation as well.
Adults and kids are all in this together really. I’ve seen enough people of all ages who pull out their phones while waiting because they don’t want to look like a loser just standing there. And I do recognize the convenience and helpfulness. I admit to texting in a supermarket to let family members know what aisle I’m in. Using Desmos in math class has been an incredibly supportive learning experience. It’s not a bad thing at all. And it would be interesting to know if parents or children use their phones more.
A quick asking around of opinions yielded what probably covered a fair range. “It’s a net positive,” said Emily. “But it can be frustrating because teachers need to see context. Sometimes we need to check our schedule, or let someone know about a meeting.” Tiffany added, “I agree with it, but not during recess. That’s our own time.” The two extreme opinions lay with Ann who said, “It makes sense for focus and learning,” and another student who intoned, “I hate it, it sucks, and it’s miserable.”
This mish mash of emotions and ideas and give and take and rule breaking and enforcing are part of what all thoughtfully growing and reflective communities go through. We’re trying to make each other individually better, as we’re trying to be collectively better as a whole for the good of the greater community and society. We may not always agree on the speed limits or where turns and stop signs should be, but we know we’re all on the same road, travelling in the right direction.
There’s no simple answer, and there’s plenty of valid points and counterpoints. We might get mad at each other now and then, and we might be disappointed we didn’t get our way, but we got to try to make it work, right?
I’ve got music, and a bunch of silly toys and pictures and other stuff happening around my room. Students comment on and interact with these things. There’s a board of photos in the hallway of people holding up signs that spark some amusement and the occasional meaningful dialogue. We play a gallery of analog games in my classes, and barrel past the bell on many an occasion. Every day, there’s a lot of teachers doing cool activities, taking cool trips, having cool talks, creating cool interactions with nary a device to be seen.
So it’s possible I suppose, to have some good vibes, to laugh broadly and joyfully together, and to get a sense of togetherness and belonging with just people being people. It’s possible I suppose to create pockets of a day or a week when it’s device time, and other pockets when it’s just you and me and sometimes just me going without, doing without, being without. It might take some determination, some willpower, some messing up and trying again, and a hold my hand when I’m weak mindset from both adults and kids, but maybe, just maybe, it can be done. Maybe, just maybe, it will all work out, and we’ll all be a better people because of it.