In Defense of Cell Phones: Why Phone-Free Zones Are Not the Answer for American Students

Hold the phone!

I was born in 1995.

For the purposes of this article, I need you to understand that. As a kid, technology played little part in my life. I went to school, played with dolls, rode my bike, etc. The most technologically advanced thing in my house was probably my Game Boy, aside from my dad’s ancient (now, not then) dial-up computer. I didn’t really use the internet — but when I did, it was slow as hell. Hardly worth the trouble.

But then in 2007, the iPhone was introduced.

In June of that year (when the product was made available to the general public), I was eleven, just about to turn twelve. I had a cell phone at that time, but one that flipped open and closed. It didn’t have access to the internet; I had to pay for each individual text; the most advanced thing it could do was Tetris. The main use it got was me calling home if my mom was late to pick me up from school.

But then, as we know, everything changed.

It wasn’t overnight (these things hardly ever happen that way), but it feels like that, in hindsight. I didn’t officially own an iPhone until I was well into high school, but still, everything felt different after 2007. Newer. Brighter. Closer and more accessible than ever. I’m a child of two different worlds: the before and the after. My nineties childhood could have taken place in the eighties, seventies, any number of years, and it wouldn’t have been that different. But children born in 2000 or beyond had a radically distinct upbringing to me.

As I rounded middle school into high school, I could start to see the change right before my eyes: cell phones in pockets, in backpacks, tucked away into boots or waistbands. They were treated like contraband at school, even if the “cell phone policies” weren’t yet solidified. Whenever a cell phone rang in class, everyone coughed to cover up the noise, in so that the offending party couldn’t be traced to the source and made to give their phone up for the day. In that way, we were all sort of comrades in arms, in this brand-new technological race to the top.

I understand the teachers’ frustrations. I do. I, myself, was a teacher for a while, and I get how frustrating it is to fight for a student’s attention. It’s especially hard when the student isn’t interested in that particular subject, or they’re tired, or they have unique challenges. I once taught a world literature class where a student would merely stick his head on the desk, refusing to do any work at all. In those times, I would stick my head on the desk next to him and say, “That’s okay. I get paid by the hour either way.” Usually, all it took was that little dose of reality — the reminder of people outside himself — to make him snap out of it for a while.

But… I never took their things. I never invalidated their personhood. I never treated them like mere numbers, grades in my gradebook. Children are people. It feels weird to emphasize that, but in this country — hell, in this world — it’s easy to forget. Kids have the least rights of all of us. They can’t vote; they can’t work; they can’t travel; their schedule is dictated entirely by adults. I didn’t move eight times as a child because I wanted to. I didn’t go to math class because I had a torrid passion for the Pythagorean theorem. If an adult wanted to hurt me, they could. If an adult wanted me to be A or do B, I would. Because I had to. Because it’s the law.

The new hotness among American schools is the “phone-free zone.” This describes either the confiscating or the locking up of cell phones until the school administration deems it again acceptable to allow their use. On the surface, I understand why this may be appealing; with the phones away, there’s one less thing to lead a child’s attention astray. It’s the easy solution. It offers immediate results. But I’d argue that the unintended consequences it creates down the road are not worth it. And in five points, I’m going to explain why:

1. That’s their personal property.

I assume I’m in the minority when I say this, but I am deeply against the taking away of a child’s property. What kind of message does that send, to rescind your kindness as a parent, teacher, or other adult? “Your belongings are conditional.” “You only get nice things when I say so.” “I have absolute power over what you think you own.”

This teaches a child that everything in their life is temporary, that their value as a person is dependent on the whims of forces around them. How, then, can they be settled? Feel safe? Feel as though they are a worthy vessel for unconditional love? It may seem as though I’m putting too much stock in this, but everything you say and do to a child counts. It all coalesces into a real-life walking, talking human being, who will hopefully, one day, live a normal, well-adjusted life. Why would you run the risk of jeopardizing this?

2. It doesn’t do them any favors, in terms of teaching personal accountability.

One day, that child is going to graduate. They’re going to be at college, or work, or whatever, and they will have to manage their own screen time. Why are we refusing to teach this early? Because it’s hard? Because we, ourselves, might struggle with this too?

It’s far more beneficial to introduce the concepts of patience and delayed gratification at a young age. We do it all the time, for other things: “Eat your dinner before you eat dessert.” “Brush your teeth, then I’ll read you a bedtime story.” It’s not hard; and yet, we often fumble this when it comes to tech.

Skipping this crucial step runs the very real risk that a child will crash and burn the second someone isn’t holding their hand through the “hard parts.” We need to place some level of trust on children; otherwise, they won’t be aware that they’re deserving of that responsibility at all.

3. It doesn’t prepare them for real life.

Related to the last point, our world is only getting increasingly digitized, not less. Most jobs utilize tech now — from computers to cell phones to 3D printers to AI. They’re going to have to use it; it’s practically inevitable. So why are we putting them in an environment eight hours a day that doesn’t prepare them for the real world?

Much in the same way our school system is behind in how it doesn’t teach personal finance, coding, social media marketing, etc., so too is the education system failing to set children up for a collaborative world where help is always at your fingertips. I’m old enough to remember when teachers used to say, “You won’t be carrying around a calculator in your pocket!” but guess what: I totally am. Why should anyone handicap themselves by pretending they’re not?

4. It provides comfort.

Look… some of us have anxiety. In fact, according to the CDC, the percentage of school-age children who experience persistent psychological problems hovers around 42%. That’s roughly 25,500,000 American children, at any given moment. Those kids need all the help they can get — and cell phones can provide that.

There are many apps today that provide utilities to destress: meditation, sleep stories, yoga, journaling, calendars, etc. Even the simple playing of soothing music can do a world of good. Plus, you can use these devices to contact your friends and family. As someone who had the majority of their friends in different states growing up, email and text were lifelines.

Phones also give you access to programs designed to assist those with learning disabilities. Certain apps change the font for people with dyslexia; others read aloud text for those with eye trouble. Taking these tools away likely only creates more distress, so why should we? It’s akin to taking the crutch out from under the person with a broken leg.

5. What if there’s an emergency?

I hate to bring it up, but this is America. Things happen, and our politicians are less than enthused to tackle the issues. Imagine, for a moment, if a gunman walked into your child’s school. They notice the threat; they want to warn other people of it. But they can’t, because their phone is locked away somewhere. They can’t discretely call 911, and so the assailant begins an attack while your child is stuck running to the office in search for a phone. In this world of advanced weaponry, the difference that can be made with a five minute heads-up is almost impossible to quantify.

And even if the emergency was a little less serious — say, a fire or an earthquake — wouldn’t you still want kids to be able to call, tell their parents they’re okay or get help if someone is hurt? Who wants to fumble with a locked box when a friend’s ankle is broken?

We live in a relatively safe society, but emergencies aren’t planned. It’s better to always be prepared — especially when you’re trusting an often faulty system with the safety of your child, perhaps the most important thing in this whole world.

Kids are people. I can’t believe I have to say it, but again: Kids are people. They deserve rights, including access to their own property, to be trusted with age-appropriate responsibilities, and to reach out for help when they need it. There’s no point raising them in a bouncy castle only to throw them out on stone-cold concrete the second they hit age eighteen. “Phone-free zones” teach them nothing — except maybe that their opinions don’t matter and that their entire lives are up to the discretion of sometimes-fallible adults.

Teach autonomy. Teach responsibility. Teach safety awareness.

Just teach.