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The Gift of Freedom from Devices

The Gift of Freedom from Devices
Lisa Robbins, Assistant Director of Middle School/Middle School English Faculty

If you have spent any time in the Middle School lately, you have no doubt heard about the “photel.” In our phone “hotel,” student phones get to rest in designated slots in a locked cabinet all day! (Adult visitors often get a chuckle out of Administrative Assistant Erin O’Brien’s sign that reads “Photel, hotel, Holiday Inn,” a play on the famous lyrics from the Sugarhill Gang.) This system is a new-and-improved version of past iterations, which required an honor system: students were expected to put their phones in a designated area, but there was no accountability to ensure that they did so. This year, we polled families ahead of time as to whether their child had a phone. If they responded in the affirmative, we assigned the child a numbered slot. Ms. O’Brien ensures residence in the photel each morning, and advisors follow up with students whose phones aren’t present. In this system, there is also an added level of security with the locked feature. 

In establishing and enforcing this system, we believe that we are giving students a gift. We are giving them the gift of freedom from devices. We’re helping them preserve a bit of their childhood. Play is vitally important to growth and development: not only is it physical activity and a brain break in the middle of a busy day, but it is also a chance for them to negotiate with peers, to work out their rules for, say, taking turns in the Gaga pit. Although they can connect on phones, it’s not the same as face-to-face interaction. Online communication increases the number of contacts, but as Jonathan Haidt says in "The Anxious Generation," decreases the quality of that contact. He paraphrases psychologist Lisa Damour, who says that quality trumps quantity in friendships. 

These days, most of us — adults included — turn to our phones at the first moment of boredom or social awkwardness. But, actually, discomfort is necessary to growth. From sitting with discomfort, kids learn how to fill — or just endure — an awkward silence; to manage sadness about a disappointing grade without immediately texting home; and to find a solution to forgetting an item without, again, immediately texting home. Last year, when polled about their favorite memories, several eighth graders cited a time they walked to Bardwell, our theater across campus, in a downpour. They all linked arms and belted out “Singin’ in the Rain.” They were uncomfortable, but they found joy. They were in touch with the natural environment. They practiced independence.

We know we can’t just take away: we have to add. Thus, we have been more intentional about recess this year. During the two recesses each day, the adults on recess duty encourage students to get outside, and they ensure that students stay off their iPads. Favorite activities include Gaga Ball, tetherball, jump rope, Four Square, and bubbles! Those who need to move their bodies do so. Others sit and chat, soaking up the sun. Some stroll leisurely around the Pond and observe our duck friends. (As an aside, great concern was expressed for Jerry the Duck who had a broken wing and was stuck in the Pond; luckily, an animal rehabilitation clinic rescued him, much to everyone’s relief!) 

As we educate students about our policies, we involve them in the conversation. Starting on orientation day, we facilitated discussions about how to use technology responsibly. In the first month of school, our librarians presented to students and parents about the role of Artificial Intelligence in academic honesty. In their academic classes, students learn to use technology in creative and productive ways.

Because we intentionally design our program and practices around technology, students get a richer experience that directly supports the goals of developing independence, problem-solving skills, and resilience. They make the kind of connections that matter the most.