by Linda Silva

I hesitate to implement a phone ban in my classes, even though I badly want to, because I wonder if it’s generational. I grew up when phones didn’t unhook from walls and am nostalgic for the time when people who were physically in the room with you were mentally in it too. But if that time is gone, then I want to be able to move on.

 So I work to (mostly) keep quiet when adults check messages during a Grownup ‘N Me song, or video an activity rather than participate in it. I do my best not to wince when I see a toddler look to their adult for a reaction and find them looking at their phone instead. (The adults don’t see this because, well, they’re on their phone.) I try to sympathize with what might be a really good reason for taking picture after picture: a grandparent far away, perhaps, or a parent at work. But still…so many?

 When a parent or caregiver looks at their phone I know they have not forgotten about the child. They are almost certainly at least partly aware of and interested in what their little person is doing. My concern is with what the child perceives. Young children constantly look for and respond to cues from the people around them. It’s called relational learning and it helps them figure out how to interpret their world. If they can see us but  we are not responsive to them, they invent a reason that makes sense to them: They’re not doing it right. The activity isn’t worthwhile. Bells are not as interesting as sticks.  Singing is not as compelling as crying. They are not as engaging as their parent’s phone.

 These days undivided attention is a precious commodity. If a child keeps a beat on a drum or plays the theme to Star Wars or sings  a song they just made up, paying full attention conveys crucial information: that their effort is important, that music is important, and that both are more captivating than a screen.

 I remember how raising young children could be delightful but occasionally numbing. There were times when if I could have communicated with another adult at the swipe of a finger I’m sure I would have. But I also know this: little ones are up and out before we know it. It’s nice to have photos to look back on, but even better to have memories of being one hundred percent there, just you and them. That lasts too.