My Journey to Make a Phone-Free School, part 2
I should've seen this coming...
Previously, on Teacher, Teacher: I’d gotten energized to do something: research the problem, find a solution, assemble allies, develop a plan, and even have ideas for money. This looked like a potential slam dunk that would benefit the kids.
Prepping the Defense
I felt solid by late summer (teacher late summer, so late July/early August). I had a mountain of research and felt I could answer any challenge to the idea, no matter how reasonable or weird. I bounced the pitch off friends and folks I met with socially, and it was going well. I could sell it.
Some of the most common replies I ended up giving to questions about going phone-free:
During a lockdown or emergency, police and first responders desperately need the cell phone hubs to be clear and not gummed up with a thousand-plus signals, potentially resulting in a loss of communication. Also, they would prefer not to have a thousand-plus versions of events broadcast to parents (and then the media) but one factual narrative going out. Yes, there are examples and counter-examples, but in the end (which surprised me), emergency responders aren’t opposed to students not having phones. Regardless, we had a student shooting in recent memory in the district, so I knew it would be a tough sell from this angle.
Attention, critical thinking, and comprehension decline when phones are involved. This isn’t a “Teachers just need to meet students where they are” issue or a signal that teachers must update their methods and delivery to match the students’ likes. Education cannot succeed when treated as a participant in a free market of student attention. Online, students are in a world curated or created just for them. A world responsive to their whims and designed to keep them focused and engaged with every psychological trick in the book. We can’t compete with that. How could we? That contest for student attention is rigged from the start.
Socially, students do not know how to relate to one another in person and are just creepy when they have phones in their hands. They prefer phones to people. Having begun my career pre-phone-based childhood, a class with nothing to do was like playing with a lit fuse. As every teacher knows, if you want 10, 20, 30, or more minutes of silence in your classroom, tell them they can use their phones. It’s the same as giving a baby a pacifier. Exactly like giving a baby a pacifier.
If not us, who, if not now, when? This one gets the most mileage out of the people in my age cohort. I made it through elementary, junior high, high school, college and nearly all of graduate school without a phone. I’m okay. I do have a scar or two, but I’m okay.
This resonates with many parents, but the percentage of teachers who attended school without a phone is decreasing as Millenials and Gen Z (in their limited numbers) start to show up. We (Gen X and the stray Boomer) are it. We’re living examples of education that didn’t have phones in everyone's pockets or bags. If we don’t push for change, who will? Older teachers are the standard-bearers for this cause.
My discussion points and data were all tested and ready. Come at me, bro.
I felt I had my case in order, so I swung for the fences: in late July, I emailed and asked for an appointment with the Superintendent. And I got one - September 6th.
Frustrating, sure, but also more time to keep working on my research and case.
This was going to work.
The Faster Drumbeat
In mid-August, I spoke with Ewell Fuller, the principal of Stanhope Elmore High School in Millbrook, Alabama. He and his team had instituted Yonder the previous year and had just started their second year with the pouches. His stories were another slam dunk for my case.
He told me that no matter where he ended up after Stanhope (if he moved), he would always have Yondr pouches at his school. The difference, he said, was day and night. In the first year, zero cyberbullying was reported, in-school fights virtually stopped, and he reported that thanks to the pouches, he didn’t have to look at any inappropriate content filmed in the school or circulated among students during the school day.
Fuller also told me that there still was defiance, but it was manageable, partly due to admin time being freed from dealing with phone-based discipline issues. There was no hot-spotting; he also said—everyone was on the school network, with its content blocks and moderation. As Fuller had reached out to community members and business partners, Stanhope’s plan allowed the school and community to bond tighter than ever. And ACT scores increased—not a little, but a lot.
In closing, he told me he could have virtually every teacher and coach from the school file through his office and give a testimonial about how the school is different—and better—thanks to the pouches. He added that they would all tell me the same — the pouches allowed his teachers to stop playing phone police and the students to pay attention and focus on what was happening in class. Fuller told me the kids were back to being kids.
I was charged up after speaking with Fuller, and in short order, I met with a faculty member from Wake Forest’s Education Department, started investigating how the pouches could fit into Novant’s ongoing community medicine initiatives, and heard back from the Sheriff’s office. Since they’re resource officers, they’d do what the school’s policies ask, so they were officially neutral. Although, the Captain I spoke with said, “I’d expect you’re going to get a lot of parent pushback.”
I also met with old friends—one in our Educators Association (North Carolina is an at-will employment state whose state legislature has an extremely antagonistic relationship with teachers, so we don’t have official unions)—to get advice on dealing with the Superintendent and to help me see my personal biases and blind spots in my case. My other friend in the district asked me the tough questions again and recommended working with parent groups from when the plan started lumbering toward reality.
Since I’m laying all my cards on the table here, I’ll admit that I was also planning to talk to a reporter at our local paper and plan to get a story about phones in the classroom just before having a first meeting with parents.
I was starting to think about talking with parents more and more and, again, swinging for the fences; I emailed
(yes, that one), explained what I was going for, and asked for advice on helping people change their minds. Graciously (and within an hour!), he emailed back and recommended How Minds Change: The Surprising Science of Belief, Opinion and Persuasion by David McRaney and Switch: How to Change Things When Change is Hard by Chip and Dan Heath. What a guy — and hopefully, a reason to get some folks in here because I linked to him. Also - those are terrific books with great strategies. Changing minds isn’t easy, but now I had guidance.The First Bumps on the Road
As mentioned, I kept my principal in the loop from the start. When the new year (‘23 -’24) started, he asked me to present the idea at the Lead Team (think School Improvement Team) meeting. I did, in front of representatives from each department at the school.
It went well. There were questions, and naysayers said nay, but overall, I felt my colleagues were enthusiastic about the idea. We were going to do something that would give us real results and allow us to stop being phone police, as Fuller said.
Then, the two curveballs I didn’t see coming:
My principal didn’t want to go at it alone. He said he didn’t want to stick his neck out alone and wanted to partner with another school. Ho-kay. That would double (at least) the money we’d need to find, and I’d have to sell it to another principal, but … okay. Manageable. It was a scenario I’d already discussed with one of my friends, and I had a school in mind.
Lead Team members were told we were forbidden to discuss the idea with faculty in our departments. Our principal said he was most concerned about opening the school year and didn’t need parents and students asking if they would have to lock up phones starting in January. I got that as well. Of course, we didn’t want to spook kids into leaving the school for another in the district, reducing our numbers and potentially affecting our allotment of teachers, support staff, and admins. Okay—I got that, too.
But the other teachers liked it. That was cool. There may have been bumps, but we were still on the road, still moving forward. But that road coming up…
Next Time: After the best meeting ever, things get rolling. Backward. And fast.
See you soon.