This past March I delivered a challenge to all of my students. It was relatively simple but seemed to have a profound impact on many of the students who took it up.
The challenge had three parts. First, delete all social media, games, and web browsers (as much as phones make that possible) from their phones. Second, with the decrease in distraction and increase in headspace, allow themselves to become more cognizant of the internal stressors that media saturation tends to constantly push from conscious thought. The way I put this part of the challenge to the students was “let your problems sit in front of your face.” Third, I challenged students to talk to someone they love about those problems.
The reason I issued the challenge was threefold. First was a general concern about the way that kids are growing up in a media saturated environment and the effect that this is having on their brains, mental health, relationships, educational attainment, ability to emotionally regulate, etc. The further we move along as a society the more we have the opportunity to see in our personal experiences, in the people that we know, and in scientific research that media saturation has real costs for kids (and for adults too).
Second, I issued the challenge based on my own experience. I had a particularly awful weekend in early December in which I got terribly sick and just lay on the couch watching movies, playing online chess, reading the news in an endless loop, etc. for the whole weekend. By the end I felt like I was in such a media haze that the thought of accessing media of any sort, particularly on my phone, made me physically ill. So I deleted online chess, my web browser, and any other apps that I felt like I was using compulsively. I had been contemplating something like that for a long time, as I imagine many people do. Like most responsible adults, I had been trying to manage my use with app timers, weekly reports, check-ins with my wife about media usage, etc. And while I had seen benefits, I was unsatisfied. So I decided to go with the “if you don’t want it enough to open a laptop, you don’t want it very much” principle.
Within a few days the effect on my mental state (which I will share in more detail later) was profound. My first thought was that I wanted to share the experiment with my students, so I began researching and planning how I would go about issuing the challenge.
Finally, I issued the challenge because year after year I have seen what the research indicates: spring is a difficult time that tests our emotional resilience and mental states. There is a good deal of research you can access on the topic. For example, this meta-analysis demonstrates a general “spring peak” for both suicide attempts and suicide deaths across various countries. Kids always need support and love, but the confluence of the lack of breaks in the school year, the lack of light in the early spring and the stress of finals and projects and assignments coming to a head makes spring a particularly difficult time of year for students.
So I always anticipate a rise in the number of students who will reach out to me for extra support during the Spring. I would imagine that most parents see a similar effect with their children. But I also always fear that there are lots of kids during that time who need extra support but aren’t reaching out to any trusted adults.
So I decided to focus on March for my challenge as an encouragement for students to reach out to their loved ones for support during a difficult time of the year.
Before moving on, there were several features of the challenge that seemed to matter to the overall outcome. These include that:
- It was a challenge, not a requirement
- It was specific to phones, instead of being a complete “media fast”
- It included elements of what to do (introspect and improve your relationships) and not just what not to do (use your phone compulsively)
- The challenge lasted for an entire month
- I invited students each week to comment with the class about their experience and what they were learning
The overall effect was that students only took on the challenge if they wanted to and saw value in it, the challenge was adaptable to different circumstances, it included elements even for students who already had limited phone exposure, students got to see themselves change the pattern of their lives over enough time to observe themselves changing, and students had plenty of opportunities to reflect on the meaning of their experiences.
By the end of the month, I had heard a great many interesting comments from my students. Common themes developed, as well as some highly-specific-to-the-individual themes. I learned a great deal throughout the experience. I hope students did as well. I would like to share what I learned from the experience in terms of the student experience and my own experience as well as my overall conclusions.
The Themes of the Student Experience
On Board
The first really interesting observation was how little pushback I received from students. I expected that they would complain about the challenge, but I received almost no pushback at all. Some students didn’t take me up on the challenge, but a large majority did and they took me up easily. In every class there were students who, the second I had explained the challenge, pulled out their phones, deleted their apps, and called out “Done!” I didn’t keep formal numbers, but I would estimate that over all classes 85% of students took me up on the challenge in some form.
I had this sense that teenagers were so attached to their phones that it would be difficult to get them on board, but I was surprised to find the teens that I was teaching hungry, desperate even, to have healthier relationships with technology. Leading up to the challenge I did some pre-research with my teacher’s assistants. I just asked them if they were willing to show me their phone usage weekly reports. I thought they would be reticent, but they weren’t at all. They whipped out their phones to show their reports, many of which were not particularly flattering. People who don’t want change don’t share that readily. People who don’t want change don’t accept challenges to change that readily.
As I went along on with the challenge I ran across an article that supported this result across young people. It indicated that Gen Z is leading the way in purposefully disconnecting from technology. For example, more members of Gen Z (54%) have intentional screen free time during the day than any other generation. When I asked my students what was going on, they offered some really interesting insight. It isn’t backed by any sort of research of which I am aware, but it certainly gave me insight into their mindset. First, they told me that when they were given smartphones they were taught that they needed to be thoughtful by their parents. In contrast, their parents were adults when they got their smartphones, had no one in their lives to teach them to interact in a healthy way, and thought to themselves, “I’m an adult. I’ve got this.”
They also told me that they grew up trying to get the attention of older siblings and parents attached to phones and realized that they don’t want to end up like that. Words worth thinking about.
Turns Out It Is Compulsive
One of the early themes as students discussed their experiences highlighted for students just how compulsive their phone use had been. Many talked about a sense of not knowing what to do with themselves at first. Several talked about sitting down, not having a phone to look at, and just not knowing what happens next.
One example of another sentiment expressed by many was a boy who said he would pull out his phone, realize that it had nothing on it to entertain him, and then put it back in his pocket. Thirty seconds later he would pull it out again, not even realizing he was doing it until it was in his hand. “What am I doing??!!” he would say to himself.
Other students said that they initially turned to nonsensical phone use. They would look up random places on Google Maps, scroll through the emails that they had already read, or flick back and forth across the screens containing their app icons.
I think this points to one of the problems that is unique to smartphones. They put compulsive behavior within such easy reach that it often only feels compulsive in the aggregate. If you compulsively use meth or a shopping addiction, you know that it’s happening because you have to put some effort and money into it. It isn’t just in your pocket every time you sit down. Even on a laptop if you want to access media, you have to go find your laptop and open it up. But smartphones make that process so minimal that you can end up filling up all of your extra time without really thinking that much about what’s happening. Thus, once students give up the apps they use compulsively on the phone, they end up with this time on their hands that they didn’t really realize they were losing and that they don’t know what to do with.
A Feeling of “Lightness”
Throughout the challenge, several students reported a change to their mental state that one girl described as a “feeling of lightness.” Others described feeling more calm or peaceful. Others said that they felt more intentional in the way they went about their day. It seemed that for these students media saturation was having the opposite expected effect. We often talk about media use as a break. It’s a chance to “come down.” And probably it does represent a chance to relax mentally. But it also seems that as you approach higher levels of saturation, the overall effect isn’t relaxation but, as I usually put it, a media haze. It was interesting to see that when I used the term “media haze” many students easily understood what I was talking about and were pleased to feel more mental clarity as a result of the challenge.
Hobbies
Probably the most consistent comment I got from students across classes is that they were either reconnecting with old hobbies (legos, bike riding, board games, etc.), or connecting with new hobbies (crocheting, pickleball, guitar, etc.). By a good distance, students picking up books was the most cited example of hobbies that were replacing phone time. I would always ask students who talked about hobbies, “Do you like the tradeoff?” In other words, are you glad that you switched phone time for this new activity? I don’t recall a single student reporting that they liked the phone time better.
If that is true, then it begs the question why we traded off our hobbies for phone time in the first place? Students had plenty to say on the subject. Hobbies take effort and phone time doesn’t. Phone time is better at helping you ignore things that are stressing you out. A new phone is really exciting because of all that it can do right in your hand. Whatever the answer is, the definitive conclusion that I came to is that, as a society, we did not trade off our hobbies for phone time because we find phone time more enjoyable and meaningful than our hobbies.
Attention and Focus
“I got my homework done so fast, I didn’t know what to do with the rest of my week.” Some version of this comment came from a large number of students who reported that their ability to focus was growing. Whether because they didn’t have distraction sitting in their pocket or because their brain was literally gaining a larger attention span (I suspect both to be true), many students were happy to see themselves succeeding in school. What was particularly surprising is that it was happening in what is traditionally one of the worst times for academics in the school year. March is when students often start giving up, getting overwhelmed, and dropping assignments. I was surprised to see many (but not all) classes improving their homework scores during a time when I usually see a decline.
Music
One surprising and sort of odd result was unexpectedly common. I still don’t know what to think of it exactly. Randomly, a student offered that after a couple of weeks of the challenge, her taste in music had changed. I was stunned because the same thing had happened to me. It seemed clear in my mind that it was attached to my decrease in phone use, but it had seemed so random that I didn’t really consider that the same thing might happen to my students. I started asking if anyone else had noticed a change in music tastes. A surprising number in every class I asked said yes.
Of course, music tastes are always changing for all of us, so maybe for some students it was likely more correlation than causation. But many students had clearly noticed a change and felt like it was clearly connected to their change in phone use. They were also just as surprised as me to find out that they weren’t the only ones.
In general students reported seeking out music that was more calm or, as one student put it, left more space to think. Several talked about enjoying more instrumental music or classical music. One boy reported that he went from listening to nothing but rap as a genre, to listening to no rap at all.
I have no idea if these results will stick around, though the taste for calmer music has stuck around for me so far. I also don’t really know what it means except that perhaps, having recovered a sense of mental space and calm, we begin to turn away from experiences that would rob mental resources or overstimulate.
Loneliness
One of the saddest results was a reported sense of loneliness and isolation from peers in some contexts. A student said that her friend group and extended family were so constantly engrossed by their phones that once she put hers down she felt alone when she was with them. I suspected that others might feel the same, so I began to ask if anyone else was having the same experience. The response was strong in the affirmative. Many students felt like it was difficult to connect with peers or family during the challenge. “It’s like, I’m right here guys!” is how they would express their frustration.
I think this points out how much more beneficial improved relationships with technology are if they are implemented in family systems or across friend groups. People putting down phones don’t just need less media. They need more people to connect to.
Step One: Easy, Step Two: Not So Much
You can see that of the three steps to the challenge (delete apps, introspect, talk to someone you love), students had lots to say about the first step. They had less to say about the second two steps, particularly in the beginning and particularly in younger classes. That isn’t surprising. Younger students have less emotional maturity for introspection and it took time for students to notice stressors they had been avoiding with phone use.
But as the weeks went on students began, more and more, to talk about feeling the weight of their problems “sitting in front of their faces.” Students generally didn’t get into details, but they talked about relationships, or lack of relationships that had been bothering them. Others cited memories that they felt like they had been purposefully avoiding thinking about. Other students talked about things they didn’t like about themselves that kept coming to mind.
Most often, students who gave up the challenge early or temporarily did so because they felt lonely (as in the observation above this one), or because it turned out that their thoughts were pretty overwhelming and they felt like they needed a reprieve. One student told me that she had broken down and watched a couple hours of YouTube on her phone because “last night was pretty rough.”
When considering why we trade off hobbies, conversations, or just quiet time for phone time in such an embarrassingly big way, I thought this theme had a lot to say. Our internal environment can be difficult to manage and without the emotional maturity and skills to handle difficult moments humans have always turned to compulsive behaviors to distract. This generation isn’t unique in that way. People have used drugs, alcohol, pornography, and a host of other compulsive behaviors to distract from an unmanageable internal environment since forever. This era isn’t unique in that way. We just uniquely have smartphones in our pockets all the time.
So helping kids have healthier relationships with technology isn’t just about teaching them how to interact with their phone. Actually how they interact with their phone might not even be the primary issue. The bigger issue is how they interact with their thoughts and whether they have the resilience, maturity, and skills to navigate the stressful and painful parts of life.
I’m Good at Listening
One student said that she was doing really well at step one (deleting apps) and step two (letting her problems sit in front of her face), but that step three (talking to someone you love) was more difficult. “I’m really good at listening to other people’s problems, I don’t really talk about my problems.”
It was a common theme among students who were feeling internal pressure as a result of the challenge. For some, opening up to parents or other loved ones seemed like a natural response, but for others crossing that distance felt like speaking a new language. “I’m working on that one.” students would often say when I asked how they were doing with part three of the challenge.
That gap matters, and it particularly matters for teens. Strong relationships with parents, extended family, friends, and other loving people in their lives create a sort of safety net for teens when they deal with the inevitable challenges or their unique challenges in growing up. The entire experience throughout March confirmed what my experience as a teacher has taught me up to this point: most teens feel adrift to some extent when facing the difficult parts of life. They often feel ashamed of themselves. The nature of serious internal distress itself often drives isolation. Teenagers usually lack skills or frameworks to communicate what they feel. Many of them, it is unfortunate to say, lack models of really close and open communication. For many, the idea of close relationships and intimate communication as one of the strongest mediators of internal stress is a foreign concept. So it isn’t surprising that, when hard times show up and lacking better options, teens turn inward and look for distractions.
We Spent the Day Together
My very favorite comments from students started in about week two and progressively picked up throughout the month. I’ll share some examples.
“I’ve discovered that my family is really weird and really cool and they are really great people to talk to.”
“I have always wished that I had a closer relationship with my dad and I decided to do something about that.”
“I’ve never felt like I could talk to my mom. I just felt like I had to deal with things on my own. And it drives my mom crazy. But for the first time we talked for like two hours about some things that were bothering me and it was really great.”
“I spent the day with my little brother. I used to do that, but haven’t in a while and it just felt really special.”
“I had a problem that was really bothering me, so I decided to talk to my parents about it, and they were really able to help me deal with it.”
“I just feel a lot closer with my family as I’ve spent more time with them this month. My family has always been really important to me, but they just feel a lot closer now.”
“I’ve always felt, as the middle child, like I was overlooked. I finally felt like I could say something about that, and my mom really listened to me.”
“It bothers me that my grandma always comments on my appearance, so I decided to tell her that I really didn’t like that and didn’t want her to do it. She took it surprisingly well.”
“Sam, can we talk? I’ve got something on my mind and I don’t know who else to talk to.”
None of these are direct quotes as I didn’t record our conversations. But they all, in essence, convey what specific students told me about specific circumstances.
It’s amazing what teens will do if you invite them to try. Not every student had an urgent need to increase the closeness with their parents and other loved ones. Not every student was prepared to bridge the gap with the people they love. But where it did happen, it was incredible to hear how students were learning to use connection to the people close to them as a healthy alternative to media saturation for navigating life.
Overall Lesson and My Own Experience
I’ve been doing the challenge now for close to five months now. I’ve stopped seeing it as a challenge and started seeing it as the way I want my life structured. I don’t want unlimited information in my pocket. I want there to be some barrier, even just a barrier as small as opening a laptop, between me and infinite opportunities for distraction. I like standing in line at the store or sitting at the doctor’s office and just thinking, reading signs on the wall, or observing what is going on around me. I like reading books more. I like driving in silence more. Like my students, I’m more at peace, I’m more focused, and my connection to my loved ones has increased. It made me wonder why I ever made that trade in the first place.
I believe I’ve found real answers to that question and the most profound lesson I learned throughout the course of the challenge is found in one of those answers.
About six weeks into the challenge my wife observed, “Sam, you’ve been talking about Isaac more.” It was true. I had been thinking about Isaac more and, without my phone to distract me, I didn’t know what else to do but talk about him more.
For context, two years ago last February we lost a beautiful student named Isaac, who took his own life. It was a devastating experience for his family and friends. It was also a devastating experience for the community of students who surrounded and loved him. And it was a terribly difficult experience for me as well. I had taught him for years. I loved him deeply. And the weight of being a stable influence for his community of students in the aftermath felt staggering.
What I learned about myself over the course of the March challenge is that I am still very sad about the death of my student. I’m also very afraid that others of my students will die in the same way. And that sadness and fear make life difficult in many ways. And while compulsive phone use allowed me to ignore that sadness and fear to some extent, it also kept me from communicating it to the people I love and whose support I need. It also kept me from seeing how effective that sort of open communication with the people I love was in helping me navigate that sadness and fear.
The March challenge taught me that we often see sadness, fear, depression, anxiety, poor self concept, internal stress, or even thoughts of self-harm as aberrations to normal life. We think of them as problems that need solving so that we can get back to life. But I believe it makes more sense to see these things as part of the texture of life. Everyone experiences some version of these issues at some point. They aren’t enjoyable, but there isn’t some way for humans to live a good life that doesn’t include them. So I think it makes more sense to see these things, not as experiences that lie outside of a good life, but rather as elements of a good life that we have to learn how to navigate well. Of course I experience sadness and fear. I loved Isaac and I love students now, so pain and fear are a natural result.
But what isn’t an inevitable part of the texture of life is isolation.The sickness isn’t so much internal stress. The sickness is having nowhere to turn in that distress. The sickness is the feeling that you are or need to be alone in your sadness, fear, anxiety, poor self concept, or distress. The sickness is much better defined by the gap we feel between ourselves and the people we love.
The biggest lesson I learned from the March challenge is that, for teens and for all of us, the problems of life are manageable, but they aren’t manageable alone. Echoing my personal hero Fred Rogers, problems are manageable when they are mentionable because people need connection and support to navigate the difficult parts of life. They don’t need people to take over their lives and solve their problems, to turn their problems into other people’s problems, or give responsibility for themselves to others. But they do need people to listen, express love, offer a perspective, speak against their worst impulses, and offer support. And in absence of those sorts of close relationships we turn to poor replacements – including phones.
I hope that, as we attempt to help our children and youth live good lives, we can provide for them, model for them, and teach them about the sorts of honest, close, and supportive relationships that sustain humans through the difficult parts of life. I hope that we can mitigate their need for compulsive distracting behaviors by helping them learn to forge close connections that don’t leave them feeling like they have to deal with their problems in isolation. If we want to teach our kids to have better relationships with their phones, then we need to give them better alternatives than their phones for dealing with the things that feel unmanageable.