Someone keeps texting meWhile I’m at work, even after I told her to stop, and I can’t block her, since she’s my 16-year-old daughter. A message sent during lunchtime was about music lessons; she wanted to know my opinion on her switching from bassoon to cello. Another one came in the middle of her third class: “For chemistry, I need to bring a half gallon of milk by Thursday.” A few days later, she asked me to call the attendance office.
These messages, along with many others, could have been prevented if my daughter had spoken to a classmate or waited to discuss things with me later. However, just as objects in motion continue moving, children who own a cell phone tend to use it. And my daughter has certainly been using hers during school, when she should be concentrating on her studies and interacting with those around her.
On one side, I value her thoughtful eagerness to address issues promptly. I also understand why many parents wish for their children to have a phone available: It can be reassuring to know that children can be contacted in an emergency, and it’s practical to communicate quickly when after-school arrangements change. On the other hand, as a former teacher and someone deeply involved in academic research on psychology, child development, and education, I am aware that allowing children to have phones in schools carries numerous drawbacks. They can divert students’ attention from their studies, heighten social anxiety and stress, and limit chances for emotional and intellectual development. They may also reduce children’s independence, acting like a digital lifeline that keeps students connected to their parents.
For many years, educators were primarily responsible for creating and enforcing their own rules regarding devices, while parents who wanted to limit their children’s phone usage had to handle it on their own. Howeverpublic opinionand, in numerous states, regulations have changed. According to a recentEducation Weekarticle, 31 states and the District of Columbia have implemented or are set to implement a phone restriction or ban in schools; another five states advise districts to adopt such policies, while two others provide incentives for doing so. (Most of these restrictions will appropriately include exceptions for students with special needs who depend on specific applications.) This means that within the next two years, most U.S. children will be affected by some form of phone usage limitation.
[Read: The institutions that prohibit mobile devices]
I personally view this as positive news. My attempts to restrict phone usage were not effective when I was doing it by myself. When my son was younger, I encouraged other parents of his classmates to delay giving their children smartphones, but after a few sixth graders created a group chat, more and more kids started arriving at school with devices. (My effort to postpone Snapchat use the following year faced a similar outcome.) I am optimistic that school-imposed restrictions will make a difference. They have clearly had a positive impact elsewhere. Australia introduced a nationwide ban on phones in schools last year. Over 80 percent of school principals surveyed in New South Wales latersaidthat students had become less distracted, learning had improved, and socializing had increased. In South Australia, cases of behavioral issues and violations of rulesplummeted.
Nevertheless, it remains uncertain how phone restrictions will function in the United States. The degree of control imposed by the new laws and policies differs greatly. Regulations on paper often do not align with real-world implementation. Additionally, some parents have openly criticized these restrictions while secretly assisting their children in bypassing them. Such resistance typically does not benefit anyone—neither educators striving to teach nor students aiming to learn. It also, for reasons that may not be immediately clear, tends to fail parents as well—both those attempting to limit phone usage and those who fully support providing phones to their children.
Part of the reasonThe reason I feel so strongly about removing phones from classrooms is that I understand what school was like for teachers before they existed. In 2005, when I was 25 years old, I arrived at a Maryland high school excited to captivate three classes of freshmen with my enthusiastic analysis ofRomeo and Juliet. Instead, I discovered how swiftly a child’s eraser-tapping could disrupt the entire room, and how readily one student’s bare legs could capture another teenager’s attention. Regaining their focus required all that I had: humor, adaptability, and a generous helping ofhumility.
Today, I question whether Mercutio and I would have a chance. Despite the increasing number of restrictions, smartphones are nearly impossible to avoid in many schools. Take my 16-year-old’s situation: her debate team uses the Discord app for communication. Flyers for events need a QR code scan. Her teachers often request photos of completed work, which her laptop camera can’t clearly capture. In certain classes, students are required to play learning games on their smartphones.
Due to the structure of devices and the human brain, requesting teenagers to use a phone in class without accessing other applications is probably just as ineffective as the DARE program.“Just Say No”campaign. Research indicates that merely having a phone within reach can diminish an individual’s ability tointeract with the people around them and focus on tasks. This is due to the fact that each alert provides aburst of dopamine, which can make people eager to check their phone even without a notification. This urge is already challenging for adults to resist. For teenagers, whose prefrontal cortex—responsible for self-control—is still developing, resisting the temptation is significantly harder, Daria Kuss, an associate professor of psychology at Nottingham Trent University in England, explained to me.
[Read: What children shared with us regarding ways to remove them from their phones]
That desire to check in isn’t solely based on chemistry; it also has a social component. As Mitch Prinstein, a professor at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and part of the American Psychological Association’s executive leadership team, explained to me, the standard for many teenagers is to be mostly always online: replying to messages promptly, being available to offer enthusiastic comments on posts and videos. Being too slow with a phone can jeopardize a friendship, he mentioned. The outcome is “digital stress,” which not only introduces an element of interruption but has also beentied tosymptoms of depression. “Would you allow them to experience another stressor the whole time while they are supposed to be focused on school and learning?” Prinstein asked. “Of course not.”
It seems that dealing with all this digital social anxiety isn’t helping teenagers become more socially skilled. While sitting in an airport with my 18-year-old daughter and her friend, on our way to visit a college campus last spring, I wondered out loud why her younger sister kept calling me from school during class breaks, even though she didn’t seem to have anything important to say. My older daughter didn’t see any problem; apparently, she often pretended to need to check her phone to avoid talking to people in the hallways. “Everyone” does that, she said. However, when kids use their phones to escape uncomfortable interactions, they may be more inclined to avoid such situations in the future—which could make future encounters even more challenging.more awkward, which could subsequently lead to increased avoidance, Philip C. Kendall, who heads Temple University’s Child and Adolescent Anxiety Disorders Clinic, mentioned to me.Unwanted isolationcan be just a short step away.
[Read: Artificial intelligence will never become your child’s companion.]
When kids can’t stay apart, progress occurs.Exposureto minor discomforts, like unintentionally making eye contact with a appealing student, can help teenagers develop resilience against future challenges and encourage them to step out of their comfort zone. Eventually, this openness to taking chancescan result in social awarenessand new connections. In the 1990s, when I couldn’t find my closest friends during lunch or didn’t share a class with them, I ended up spending time with others, including a group of older students from the neighboring town. Initially, my efforts to appear cool felt forced; I alternated between obvious flattery and irritating boldness. However, I became accustomed to the discomfort, embraced my nerdy side, and one day changed a popular student’s view of me by making a crude science joke while we waited for human biology class to begin. That wouldn’t have happened if my lab partner had been texting her best friend.
Twhat day at the airportI asked my older daughter and her friend how school would be more challenging without phones. Their top worry was finding friends. Also, how would you organize a project with group members? Valid concerns, but I had responses. When I was in high school, I planned ahead and arranged a meeting place and time for group projects. If I still couldn’t find people, I inquired around. And when facing other midday issues, like those my younger daughter has mentioned texting about, I relied on the people nearby. If I had to bring milk for chemistry, I might have gotten a ride to the store from a senior. If I had to decide, on the spot, whether to play the bassoon or cello the next year, I would have asked a teacher for guidance (and in the process developed a type of relationship that wasn’t just transactional)studies indicatecan enhance participation in educational institutions).
Some of the challenges that children face today are different from those I dealt with, meaning the approaches needed will also be different. However, without phones, when students encounter difficulties, they will have to find ways to overcome them independently. Granting children the ability to do so has been proven to result inimproved competence, greater overall wellness, and a lower likelihoodof cheating. And granting students autonomy can encourage development even if they makethe wrong call— as they are bound to occasionally when they cannot reach their parents. Falling down and getting back upbreeds resilienceand can help children avoid making the same mistakes again.
[Read: Remove mobile devices from educational institutions immediately]
However, many parents are reluctant to endorse strict regulations. A2024 surveyIt was found that 78 percent of parents whose children brought a phone to school were concerned about school emergencies. I understand. Every time I hear sirens, my immediate thought is that one of my kids has been struck by a car, a bus, or a bullet. I want to text them or track their location—anything to feel reassured. Still, I hold back. I remind myself that disaster is very unlikely, and even if my son were injured in a crosswalk, his leg would be broken regardless of whether I found out right away. Constant surveillance cannot truly protect my children; having access to them during school hours only provides a temporary comfort for my anxiety about life’s unpredictability. In my opinion, that brief relief isn’t worth the sacrifices families make when children have phones at school. Without them, for a few hours, parents can finally be free from the constant worry.expectation that they remain constantly on duty. Children can develop through interactions with their peers and teachers—there’s no digital escape available.
As additional districts consider prohibiting phones, I hope more parents will accept their own unease, as well as that of their children. They could be amazed at how swiftly their kids display signs of relief—and meet the challenge. During the time when my 16-year-old texted me about which instrument she should choose, I chose to disregard her message. Ten minutes later, she sent two more texts: the first one said, “Actually never mind.” Then the second one followed: “I like bassoon.”
