Terry D'Elisa, PsyD

Terry D'Elisa, PsyD Psychology practice specializing in psychological assessment and therapy. ADHD, Autism and Learning Disabilities. Parent support groups.

05/22/2025
08/21/2024

Unfettered phone usage at school is hurting our kids and depriving them of connection. But it’s not too late to make a change!

This is a great read from the Atlantic Monthly by Russell Shaw, head of Georgetown Day School in Washington, DC.

In the early 1960s, when my parents were in high school, they received free sampler packs of ci******es on their cafeteria trays. To the cigarette companies, it made sense: Where better to find new customers than at schools, whose students, being children, hadn’t yet established brand loyalties? This is hard to fathom in 2024.

I believe that future generations will look back with the same incredulity at our acceptance of phones in schools. The research is clear: The dramatic rise in adolescent anxiety, depression, and su***de correlates closely with the widespread adoption of smartphones over the past 15 years. Although causation is debated, as a school head for 14 years, I know what I have seen: Unfettered phone usage at school hurts our kids. It makes them less connected, less attentive, less resilient, and less happy. As the social psychologist Jonathan Haidt has written, smartphone-based life “alters or interferes with a great number of developmental processes.” It is time to remove phones from schools.

At the entrance to our high school is an indoor amphitheater we call the Forum. The space acts simultaneously as a living room, dining room, library, and town square. When making my rounds during the school day, I will often stand at the top of the Forum and observe our students in their natural habitat. A group of sophomores plays hacky sack in one corner while a lone senior leans against the wall reading Moby-Dick, highlighter in hand. Students share a pizza. A duo prepares for an upcoming chemistry quiz. It is a hive of activity—one visitor to our school described the atmosphere as having an “intellectual crackle.”

That was a decade ago. I still make my rounds, and yes, many of the above activities still unfold in the Forum, but they are being crowded out by students looking at their phones. The students are sitting next to one another. They may even be interacting. But more and more, their attention is on their screens. Watching phones take over the Forum brings to mind a beetle infestation in a forest. At first, just one or two trees show signs of damage. Then, the next thing you know, the forest is a less healthy, less vibrant place than it once was.

I’ve watched students who struggle to make friends not learn how to, because they can retreat into the short-term safety of their phones rather than tolerate the discomfort that often precedes finding one’s way into a conversation. I’ve watched some of the spontaneity that makes school fun diminish, because students are less tuned in to what’s happening around them. I’ve watched our community become weakened by the ubiquitous presence of phones.

Good conversations are hard—they are messy and complex and require attention and careful listening. Phones teach our students to abandon the eyes of the person they’re speaking to in order to glance at a newly arrived text or Snapchat message. They privilege simplistic dichotomies that can garner “likes” rather than nuanced understanding, which requires the patience to turn to a topic again and again, suspending judgment. They undermine the very skills we aim to impart: the ability to engage deeply, to hold complexity, to build meaningful community.

I am not a Luddite—I believe in the ability of technology to enrich our lives. And yet I believe that those who are responsible for the well-being of children can no longer ignore the reality that phones in schools are doing more harm than good—distracting students, isolating them, and creating unhealthy echo chambers that undermine critical thinking.

To be clear, adults are not setting a great example. In a middle-school graduation speech a few years ago, I encouraged our students to put down their phones. Their parents applauded. And then, without missing a beat, the students called out, “You put down yours!” We, too, are often glued to our devices, distracted at meals, at sporting events, while standing in line. Adults would do well to set their own limits on phone use.

Some people argue that phones prepare students for the pressures of our digital world—one they’ll eventually have to navigate anyway. Even if this is true—and I am not sure it is—it is an unintentional aftereffect that happens at the expense of building community. Others argue that in an age of school shootings, it’s important for parents to be able to reach their children at a moment’s notice. When we practice lockdown drills, like most other schools, our security team instructs students to sit quietly—to silence and put down their phones. School shootings are a growing and terrifying reality. At the same time, far more young people die by su***de each year than in school shootings.

While I understand the parental impulse to know you can communicate with your child instantly and constantly, protecting children’s mental health is far more urgent than keeping tabs on them. (In fact, developmentally appropriate freedom from parental oversight is vital for healthy adolescence—but that’s a topic for another day.) And giving them a respite from technology so that they can more deeply connect with themselves and with others is one crucial way to protect their mental health.

In a world in which information is readily available and AI is evolving at a stunning pace, schools must focus on teaching attention, navigating ambiguity, encouraging independent thinking, and nurturing communities. These essential tasks are hindered by phones, which fragment attention and weaken our capacity for genuine connection.

Our school already bans phones for pre-K through eighth graders, and starting this fall we will no longer allow phones in the high school. I expect that some of our students (and even some parents) will vigorously protest this change. And yet I believe that most will grow to embrace it, discovering that their experience of school takes on a new depth and vitality.

For too long, children all over the world have been guinea pigs in a dangerous experiment. The results are in. We need to take phones out of schools. Let’s reclaim our school spaces and ensure that our students learn not just from devices but from one another and the world around them. So much of the magic of childhood happens in unmediated community. We must not deprive our children of that gift.

Get the resources you need to advocate for change:
PhoneFreeSchools
Jonathan Haidt
Away for Day @ Screenagers Movies

https://www.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=635247261967673&id=100064472153145&mibextid=cr9u03
06/11/2023

https://www.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=635247261967673&id=100064472153145&mibextid=cr9u03

I was chatting with some friends of mine on our beach vacation over the summer and they commented on how little my teens were spending on their phones.

"I'd pay good money to get my kid off their phone," they said. "How'd you do it?"

And I replied, "It wasn't easy. I had to show them that there were things worth doing that weren't on their phones--even when I didn't feel like it."

And they countered: "But don't you remember how we never had to be told how to fill our time? We just did it."

That's when I said, "Yeah, but we didn't grow up with iPads on car trips and every toy lighting up and a phone to play with at every juncture. I know how hard it is for me to put my phone down, and I remember a time without them. They don't."

You see, when my kids were babies, I would watch when my mom would get down on the floor with them and play. I just wasn't into it and always wanted them to occupy themselves for a few minutes so I could do dishes or pick up a few things.

She would show them how to stack blocks and how dolls could have tea parties and how a box could become an airplane. She worked as a nursery school teacher many years ago and explained how kids sometimes need to be taught how to use their imagination and learn to play.

She used to say, "It takes time, but it will pay off later when they can entertain themselves."

And she was right. Eventually, my kids did learn to play by themselves more, and I was so appreciative my mom showed me how to do that.

About 18 months ago, I realized my teens were in a bad place with their phones from the pandemic. I often found them in their rooms mindlessly scrolling or watching videos for hours. When I asked them to put their phones down, they usually would, but only to roam around our house moody and sullen until I found them back up on their beds an hour later.

I knew something had to change. I had to teach them things to do without their phones.

So, instead of simply telling them to put their devices down, I would say, "Hey, let's go thrifting." Or, "I looked up a new trail to hike." Or, "Let's watch an episode of that show you like." Or "Do you want to go to the bookstore with me?" Or "Sure, I'll drive you and your friend to X."

Anytime they expressed an interest in something that didn't have to do with their phone, I tried to pounce on it.

When my daughter said she wished she didn't quit piano, I dug our old keyboard out and showed her an app where she could learn her favorite songs. When another said she loved live music, I tried to find every opportunity to take her to some free concerts. When another said she needed volunteer hours, we did a few opportunities together.

Don't kid yourself. My three teenagers did not welcome these opportunities with open arms and phrases like, "Oh, mom, you are the best! Thank you so much for limiting my screen time!"

It was exhausting for me to work and try to fill their phone void. I had to sacrifice a lot of my free time and the things that I wanted to do for myself. I had to endure a lot -- A LOT -- of eye rolls and sighs and how they could turn the word "mom" into three syllables.

But I kept at it.

When Starbucks had half-off days, I took them there. When they mentioned a local place they wanted to go, I scheduled the time to do it. When they wanted to bake a cake at 10:30 p.m. even though I was bone-tired from a long day, I took a deep breath and said sure, why not?

And excruciatingly slowly, I noticed a change.

One day, my daughter asked if she could get some books from the library, so I dropped her off while I ran an errand. She plowed through an entire series, and I tried not to make it a big deal (although I was so happy I could have cried.)

A few days later, two of my daughters and their friends went to watch the sunset with a picnic for a few hours at a local park while the other had some friends over for S'mores. The only time I saw the phones out was to take some pictures.

They are now starting to fill their own voids in healthy ways.

Don't get me wrong. They spend PLENTY of time on their phones still, but when I talk to them about it, they've definitely made progress.

I was surprised when at the beginning of the summer, one of my almost-18-year-olds told me she didn't want to keep her phone in her room at night because she found it too distracting, and my other daughter said she took Instagram off her phone "for now" because she didn't like the way it made her feel.

And now, when they have a bad day, or I can tell something is wrong, I don't see them rushing into their bedrooms and sitting on their phones all night. I see them going for a jog, taking the dog for a walk, or sometimes even journaling.

I don't think they would have made these healthy choices if they didn't know what it felt like not to be tethered to their phones. They no longer use them to soothe their minds or hearts.

Here's the thing: We can complain about technology, phones, and social media. We can focus on how different things were when we were growing up. We can try to put all the monitoring software and screen time limitations we want on their devices.

OR we can do something about it. We can teach them how to live life in a different way.

I'm not saying it's easy. But I am saying they are worth it.

*Shared with permission from

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