What is everyone doing on their phones?
“What is everyone doing on their phones?” 7-year old Lara asked. “It’s just that when everyone is looking at their phones, it makes me want one.”
“What age will we have to be to get a phone?” asked 9-year old James.
There is no easy answer, and they are right that, especially from a tech disconnected child’s perspective, literally everyone is looking at their phones.
We just came back from a vacation in Colorado, where on the mountain, you now need your phone to track your ski route, pre-order your food, and request the shuttle. These are necessary activities tethering us to our phone, but it’s no doubt addictive.
I have tried to keep my phone away during dinner and kids bath and bed time, and it’s remarkable how quickly I feel I need to grab it to take a photo, check tomorrow’s schedule, or sign kids up for an activity, not to mention my group texts with other moms as we re-hash the anxieties and highlights of the day.
Since the first of the year, I decided to limit my social media to only 30 minutes every other Saturday. That was a drastic cut for me, but I found myself thinking about Instagram and having it influence how I was experiencing real life. Sure, it’s a little bit of FOMO, but also I started to get triggered by people posting their political views, and mostly it’s just too much information and I don’t have time.
I still post to Instagram during my biweekly sessions, mostly since we have family far away who enjoy seeing photos of our kids and to keep up the automatically-generated Chatbooks albums which eliminate my need for annual family albums. But, I’m much more conscious about what I share. I once read about three questions to ask yourself before posting: Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary? I find these to be extremely helpful guiding prompts.
There are friends and leaders and accounts I follow whose updates I love to see, feel inspired by, and am happy to be connected with. But I am also making a greater effort to engage 1:1 with friends, to subscribe to email newsletters from people I want to follow, and go in person to stores I want to support.
Of course, I miss some updates. I contacted a friend last week and didn’t know that her father had passed away. She had posted to Facebook so assumed that I knew. We aren’t very close, but I felt badly that I reached out to ask for her help with something unrelated at such a sensitive time.
My 12-year-old niece is limited to one hour of tic toc per day, the social media platform of choice for the tween/teen girls. One hour, that’s 60 minutes of time! Especially when you think that kids only have from 3pm onwards and usually two or more of those are in activities, two on homework, one for dinner.
Surely, we don’t want our kids to miss out, to be left out. But will they, if they aren’t on the group text chain? Will we, for that matter? Will it make them — or us — happier, to know what everyone is doing at every moment?
“The answer is complicated,” I told them. People share only what they want others to see. “Do I share photos of your tantrums?” I asked. “No!” they laughed. But, I remembered that in 2019, James took a series of photos on my phone of me doing everyday tasks: giving the kids breakfast, reading a story, even changing the toilet paper roll! When I found them, while not very flattering, I actually thought they were beautiful, and I posted a few. I’ve never gotten more comments and likes because it was real, and people could relate.
But I also told them that people can be mean on social media, much more so than in real life. There is a whole set of unwritten rules that make people count likes of their posts, check who comments, who uses which emoji, who likes your selfie. And that can distort your sense of reality, your sense of self, and the way you relate to others. They seemed to understand those concerns, but it didn’t stop them from wanting a phone.
They had suggestions. They said they would only message with family if they had texting. I told them that was a good idea, and that we would make these decisions together, depending on circumstances. If James goes to middle school on a bus, we might want to contact him. They might need it for educational purposes, for example their cousin has Google Classroom and can see what her teacher sends her.
I’d like to think we can, as one parents campaign says, “Wait until 8th,” until our kids are 13 years old to get their phones, but the logistical reasons or need to be able to contact one another will surely intercede sooner. But, I want nothing more than for our kids to stay in the real world for as long as possible.
Trying to be mindful of our addiction to our phones is radical in today’s world. Especially post-Covid, when we lived virtually for many social interactions, and people were replaced with apps for most daily necessities.
But, I want to re-take my mind. I want to have headspace to write. To get sh*t done. I want to think before I open my phone, to have a purpose for going to it, and to actually remember that long enough to do it. How many times have I gone to my phone to do something, then forgotten what it was because I got sucked into an advertisement, email, text, Instagram post, or news story?
So, what is everyone doing on their phones? A little big of everything, I tell Lara. And I understand that you want one. There will be a need for one, sooner than I’d like. But until then, I hope you can enjoy the five senses of the world around you, jump on the trampoline with your siblings, put pencil to paper to make a drawing, snail mail a card to your grandparents, and experience the joy of a friend’s hug — one that’s not an emoji.
