I forget how little they are. Elementary school-age kids. You would think I would remember, given how frequently I speak to elementary school students. And it is not always their size…yet different “things” that remind me of how small they are.
This week, it was the tiny bathroom mirror. The one that, at 5’1, I had to bend over to see into. It was the little first graders at recess playing the “parachute game”. Their little bodies were struggling to get the parachute up together, then struggling again to bring it down, trapping air to make a little “mountain”. Many of them were standing while others were sitting. Laughing. Wiggling. Bodies constantly in motion. Just trying to figure it all out. As they should be.
Which is why I think my brain short-circuits when I realize that I am discussing gaming, social media, and devices with little kids. The juxtaposition of what I am seeing (little kids) and what I am doing (discussing something meant for adults) is wild. My brain short-circuits with the weight of it all. But then I ask these kids “the” question. Who has a device? Who has a cell phone? Who has social media?
Almost all third-graders have a tablet of some kind. Some of them have a phone. Some of them have social media. Including TikTok. They almost all know what the words social media means. All fourth-graders have a tablet or computer. Probably a quarter to half of them admit to having a phone. Most of that quarter has social media. By 5th grade, more than half have a phone and another device (a tablet or computer). Most of them have social media. Half of them have zero restrictions. Sixth graders…I would say 90 percent have a phone. All have a device of some sort. Over half have social media…TikTok, Snapchat, Instagram, or YouTube. And not to forget their intense love of gaming, which starts in 3rd grade with about 90 percent of them and extends through 6th grade. Made evident by the rafter-shaking screams and clapping when I present a slide with pictures of Roblox and Minecraft.
As I was standing in the bathroom this week, in between speaking to students, I looked at my reflection in that tiny mirror and thought…why are we giving young children devices? Phones? Tablets? I know what the research shows me. And I will never sit in judgment. Each family has different boundaries, rules, and expectations in their home. It is not my place to judge. It is my job to share what I know.
I have been working side by side with parents for over a decade. I know the responses here. Many understandable. Parents are exhausted. They need a break. They do not want kids to be left behind. Or the big one…left out. Valid. But it begs the question…do we really know as parents what early tech use does to a child’s brain? What does curiosity plus access mean when a child has a cell phone at age 10? I know how much parents love their children. I also think they have been sold a bunch of crap promises. The settings and restrictions provided by companies are band-aids on broken legs. They will not protect your kids. They sell rainbows and butterflies of connection, but behind the scenes, these companies are providing addiction, predator access, and harmful echo chambers.
I present the good and the bad sides to parents at every conference. And then I launch one very important question…is it worth it? Is it worth your child, whose brain is not yet completely developed (and won’t be for many years), to be given access to a platform that can shape and change them in ways that are irrevocable? Is it worth trading access to friends’ parties and conversations for access to cyberbullying and predators? Is it worth access to images and videos that are not suitable for adults, much less a fourth grader? I want to ask a harder question here…is it worth stealing their childhood?
When we allow devices to hijack our children’s brains, we remove time that could be spent with one another. Face to face. Getting their knees skinned and their feet dirty. Devices hijack the time that is crucial for brain development. Relational skills. Communication. Reading. Processing. Failing at something, trying again. Which builds resilience. And empathy.
When I look out at these kids, their tiny bodies, loud laughter, wild curiosity, and nonstop movement, I see something sacred. Something worth protecting.The thought that a device could replace that silliness with anxiety, that curiosity with compulsion, that connection with isolation breaks my heart.
Elementary school kids do not need smartphones. They need fresh air, scraped knees, unstructured play, real conversations, and adults brave enough to say no even when everyone else says yes. Because childhood only happens once.
Kristi Bush serves as a national education consultant and social media safety advocate. She is a licensed social worker with greater than 15 years of clinical practice and health care experience. She attended Troy and Auburn University where she studied social work and counseling. Kristi travels nationally and has spoken with thousands of children, parents, professionals and organizations about the benefits and threats associated with social media. You may reach Kristi through her website at www.knbcommunications.com.
