At the midpoint of the school year I gave my honors students an anonymous survey. The first question was whether phones have made school better or worse for them. Because most of these students attended a middle school that had a pretty strict no-phone policy, they are able to reflect on the difference. So has the tech liberty of high school made the school experience better for an honors student? I was genuinely curious what they would say. On the one hand, teenagers love their phones. On the other hand, they can be very perceptive and critical of themselves. Before looking at the results, try to guess what you think the breakdown of responses will be.  

Are you surprised? I was. 

The next question in my survey was whether students liked the learning part of school (as opposed to the social part). 

A quick reminder that this is an honors group of students.

I then asked students to explain their answer to this question. The students who do not enjoy the learning part of school had this to say: 

The way things are taught is boring. Also, I sometimes don’t care about what is being taught, so it’s hard to focus.

I don’t like school because I find most of the time it’s boring and I find my self not learning much. To me, school is just another thing on my plate and really does take over my life in a very smothering way. School causes me a lot of stress.

The only reason I like school is getting to see my friends every day and occasionally having fun classes. Obviously I know that’s not the point of school but I don’t like the learning part. It is super stressful and sometimes makes me feel dumb because a lot of the times I don’t actually understand what I’m doing. The workload is super heavy and especially at the end of the quarters. I know I need school and school is good for us but I don’t enjoy the learning part at all.

Problems focusing. Stress. Boredom. Did these students see phones as a contributing factor to these issues? They did not: in fact, those three anonymous students identified phones as making school “Better.” If I had asked if phones had made the learning part of school better, I wonder if it would have changed their response. 

I had the results of this survey in mind at the end of second quarter, when several students in my eighth block of English 10 Honors expressed a desire for new seats. I decided to use this as a jumping off point for an experiment. 

“You will have free seating next quarter,” I said at the end of the final class of the second quarter. 

This was met with a tentatively positive response – tentative because the class knew me well enough to expect some sort of condition. 

“You will also be required,” I continued, “to put your phones in this phone holder at the beginning of the class.” 

This was met with a collective sigh. 

They are a typical Honors English 10 class, my eighth block, end-of-the-day energy paired with wide fluctuations in maturity and self-discipline. These fluctuations can make them my favorite class some days and my most demanding class on others. Despite their mercurial behavior, they use their phones a little less than the average class, which I thought made them a good class for the experiment; the amount of withdrawal wouldn’t be as high. 

And it would truly be withdrawal, since my policy involved students putting their phone in a designated space, not simply putting it away or putting it in a book bag. I had considered this for a while. The act of putting it in a designated space seemed to be the most conducive method to ensure students follow the policy while reducing stress on my end. 

The stress component is real. It’s a huge decision every teacher has to calculate, how much emotional energy to expend fighting the fight against phones. I’ve encountered a handful of non-teachers and even a few substitutes who have presented the following as if it’s some genius revelation: Why don’t you just take their phones from them? Gee, what an amazing idea! Why didn’t I think of that earlier? 

Taking a student’s property, even for good cause, is a tricky issue that’s a gray area from a school policy perspective. It’s also a gray area from a classroom management perspective. Yes, a teacher can scream and rant and make sure the phones are gone, and indeed some teachers do, especially at the beginning of the year. From my observations,  though, two things usually happen as a result. First scenario: the teacher is red-hot belligerent in her insistence that the phones are put away, and she gets what she wants. But also gone is the buy-in for the educator, because in the minds of the kids the lessons are not worth this hostile behavior. As with any dictatorial teacher, the students are miserable, and while the rules are followed, the actual purpose of the class, learning, suffers due to the fact that students have no connection with the teacher. 

Second (and the most common) scenario: the no-phone policy slowly erodes over a few weeks to where most of the students are pretty good about following it, assuming the teacher offers constant reminders, while there are a few disrespectful outliers who are consistently on their phones throughout class. 

What does a teacher do about these outliers, students who are consistently breaking class norms and screwing around on their phone when instruction is occurring? Redirect, redirect, redirect. Get off your phone, get off your phone, get off your phone. Some teachers, though, eventually just give up and choose to just let these outliers play on their phones and be ignorant of the instruction, facing the consequence of their poor discipline. After all, the frustrated teacher says, that’s what life is like in the Real World. I will readily admit to having that attitude toward certain students on certain days.  

But that’s a flawed outlook for an educator, in my opinion. First of all, it normalizes for the outlier student the experience of screwing around on their phone without any repercussions. Secondly, and most importantly, those outlier students are usually the ones who need education the most. For example, my End-of-Course Writing SOL scores for my English 11 academic classes came back last week. It requires competent persuasive writing abilities and understanding of basic grammar and mechanics rules. Students must pass this test to receive a standard high school diploma.  In early March I had 52 of my English 11 academic students take the Writing test, and of the 8 students who failed, six of them have issues with being on their phone. It would be disingenuous to say their phone usage is the only reason they didn’t pass, but the distraction it causes is certainly a contributing factor.

All of this is a relatively new problem for teachers, a problem that has been magnified with the return to in-person learning over the past two years. During this time I’ve encountered a lot of teachers moving into other professions, and the chronic lack of student attention due to phones is one of the most common complaints. What’s ironic is that, from a classroom management perspective, phones have actually made students more docile, or at least sedentary. I remember being in school in the early 2000s, and how rowdy classes get could get with bad students who have nothing better to do than antagonize the teachers and their classmates. That can still happen, but it’s not uncommon to walk by a classroom and see a plurality of students with their heads crouched down staring at a screen, sometimes as a teacher is in front of the class teaching. This environment engenders in teachers a mounting frustration at themselves for being ineffective, bitterness toward the students for such (passive) disrespect, and anger toward those who imply or explicitly state that it’s the teacher’s fault for not keeping students engaged. Add to that all the other attendant stresses of the job, and it’s easy to see why so many are choosing new careers, or just getting the hell out of teaching. You can’t make a difference if students are not paying attention to you. 

*

I knew I had the attention of my eighth block class. They were my laboratory. I had their buy-in due to their generally docile nature and the appeal of free-seating (another reason to start the year with assigned-seats). I also made sure to notify parents about the change and explain the expectation and the consequences for not following it. This I borrowed from the Woodgrove History Department, which adopted a cell phone policy at the beginning of the school year, and which made my endeavor easier, since I wasn’t going into this experiment all by myself – students were already used to these expectations in other classes.    

The first few classes began with a silent and awkward filing to the phone holder in the front corner of the classroom, students solemnly checking their notifications one last time before consigning their device to a numbered slot. 

As you might expect, a few subversive methods were developed. A decoy phone was discovered. Most memorably, one student positioned her phone with the camera facing her friend, and used her smartwatch to snap photos of the unsuspecting friend throughout class. 

Mostly, though, students were compliant to the spirit of the rule, and the tenor of the class was pleasant, if not completely harmonious. 

“I hate the act of being separated from my phone,” was a comment I heard from many students during the first few weeks. 

It reminded me of Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, the philosopher’s way of illustrating his concept of the purpose of education, which I had read with these honors students in December. It had the desired effect of disturbing and intriguing the classes, the idea of prisoners chained in a seated position and observing shadows of real things, stuck in a smokey space and naively believing it to be the real world, while in fact the real world of light exists above it. 

I did not explicitly tell the students that their phones are one-to-one analogous to the shadows in the cave, images that are transfixing them and keeping them sated in their chains of ignorance. I did not explicitly say that. Perhaps I should have, though?  

Because, after all, the allegory makes it clear what the role of the teacher is: to break the prisoners out of their chains and drag them by force up and out of the cave, into the fresh air and the sunshine. This is not just because knowledge is a nice thing, but because (according to Plato) it is the heart of justice, and conversely all ignorance is the root of injustice. If this is true – and I do think it holds up pretty well twenty-five hundred years leader – then the act of bringing people out of ignorance is an invaluable public service. While I am not arrogant enough to believe my high school English curriculum is the key to a just existence, I do feel certainty that it has more utility and lasting value than whatever students are looking at on their phones. Take my six phone-obsessed students who failed the EOC Writing Test, for example. Their addiction is affecting not just their ability to pass a state exam, but acquiring basic persuasive and logical skills needed to live a life that is prosperous and just. I’d say that has significant value. And this is not only in English – you could make the same case for pretty much any high school class, most of which are taught by knowledge and passionate teachers. We have important knowledge to impart to our students, and they need to be paying attention. I know this is not disputed by anyone (well, maybe some students). However, the extent to which we as teachers fight the phone fight is something that is disputed. And it’s my contention that the fight to keep students off their phones and paying attention to me is a worthy act.   

It’s an act that does not come without risks. Plato says explicitly that the prisoners will not appreciate this endeavor:  

Would they not say that the ascent was a waste of time? And if they had the opportunity, do you supposed that they might raise their hands against him and kill this person who is trying to liberate them to a higher plane?

Now, I am happy to report that during quarter 3 none of my students tried to kill me, or even offer any overt resistance to the cell phone ban. It’s a small bar to jump, but is in fact pretty remarkable for a class that once gave me ridiculously passionate resistance when I instructed them to stop using the word “Oftentimes” and instead use the more concise “Often.” 

I’d like to think part of their buy-in was due to the rapport I have developed with most of them over the course of the year, and the benefit of getting to sit wherever they wanted in the classroom.     

Also helpful was the fact that I participated in it as well, putting my phone in the holders alongside theirs, usually underhanding it to the nearest student as they filed into class, prompting gasps every time my phone was hurtling mid-air. 

I also tried to give it some utility and quirkiness. I provided a charging station. When I noticed that some students were very particular about the number of the slot for their phone, I added some tarot cards to add even more personalization to the choice, much to the delight of my several tarot card-obsessed students. 

Things went very well in 8th block over quarter three. If there were times when they were rowdy and had trouble settling down due to sitting at tables with their friends, it was worth it for the unified focus during reading and writing assignments. 

A moment I’ll never forget: we were deep in our group reading of “The Wife of Bath’s Tale,” and I glanced over to a table filled with mostly student athletes. One of the young men caught my glance and shook his head resentfully, forced as he was to endure Middle English literature at the end of the day with no fleeting access to the outside world. 

Another moment from that same table: we were having a discussion about something, and Griff was explaining a concept to me and the whole class. He wanted to show me a picture to illustrate. He reached in his pocket and retrieved his phone that had not been placed in the pouch, an action met with a chorus of elementary school-style awwwwwws.

Overall, though, I was pleased, but were they? As we reached the end of the quarter, I gave the same class another survey. 

I’ll include the entirety of the additional feedback provided. I highlighted the responses I found particularly instructive…

I didn’t really care too much, but it was an…experience

I would rather have free seating than my phone. The phone thing really doesn’t bother me at all.

I liked the phone policy, but it does get sorta hard to know if something changed with getting home.

The phone policy did not bother me at all.

I didn’t mind it, i definitely preferred free seating

Honestly, I’ve mostly gotten used to it and am, at this point, pretty much indifferent to it

it wasn’t terrible

I don’t feel like the cellphone policy had an impact on my academic focus during the class, but it impacted the amount of interaction I had with my peers. The class interacted with each other more when we didn’t have our phones. This may have also been because of the free seating.

I understand that a lot of people can be on their phones during class, however at least first and second quarter when I was using my phone it was to talk to my friends in that class because I wasn’t sitting near them, now that I can sit near them I only feel the need to use my phone to text my coach or parents

The cell phone policy just encouraged people to be social rather than on their phones. I feel that the cell phone policy was annoying because if I finished my work/had downtime, I wouldn’t be able to pull out my phone and relax. And if the goal was to stop the cell phone usage, those who were the problem in the first place remained a problem by just being sneakier about it.

It was mostly fine, allowed everyone to focus better. however it was a bit inconvenient at times.

I would rather to just put the phone in the bag, and anyone who disobeys has to put it up front. I like to keep my stuff with me

It was a bit annoying, because if we had to show you something on the phone, like for the Choose Your Own Adventure with the pictures, it’s not super easy. On the other hand, however, the tradeoff for being able to sit where we want makes up for it for the most part.

I like being able to sit by my friends especially when we have to do group work and I don’t use my phone during class. Though it is often an inconvenience when I want to quickly look something up but don’t wanna get out my chromebook. to the next question I want to be able to keep free seating but I don’t need the cell phone rule to continue

charging station is genius. i think more cords would be beneficial.

I have never had an extreme attachment to my phone and as such I do not have a huge opinion either way. Having free seating is not something that I really care whether to have or not, and not having my phone is also not of specific concern to me.

I play sports and my coach often changes when we need to leave class or if games/practice is canceled, and I need to know as soon as possible. For example, Last class I was supposed to have a 4:00 early release but didn’t know and almost missed the bus to the game.

I don’t mind not having cell phones during class that much, I think that it help everyone to focus, but it kind of stresses me out sometimes not knowing if someone tried to text me if something is wrong.

I dont like not having my phone but i would rather sit with my friends

I’m not going to say that I loved it, but I really didn’t have much of a problem with the cell phone policy. I thought it was reasonable.

The phone policy is ok, I like sitting where I want. I don’t have anything else ot say

I really liked having free seating, and I appreciate putting our phones away so we can focus more and have real conversations, however I think sometimes it’s necessary to use our phones or have breaks to use them so we can check for coach and parent messages

We didn’t really use our phones thaaaaaat much in class, I only really used them when we weren’t doing anything and we had some free time. If people wanna not pay attention in class while we’re doing stuff that’s their own problem, but I shouldn’t have to put my phone up if I have enough self control to pay attention.

The comments about needing updates from coaches is frustrating. It is based on the correct assumption that the easiest way to reach student athletes is to text them, since they are constantly on their phone in class. This makes the teacher who is trying to maintain focus and instill discipline in his students an annoying obstacle.  

I have no problem being an obstacle. After all, there is always the option of coaches requesting an announcement over the PA or an all-staff email, instead of distracting my students with GroupMe messages. 

As to the students who claimed that phones really weren’t that big of a distraction in the first place and this rule is overkill, I think it’s pretty clear that they’re delusional. While this survey was anonymous, I suspect that many of the students who made these comments are the same students who have extreme issues putting their phones in the phone-holder. 

What most students lack is the perspective of trying to teach to an audience that is only half paying attention, the extreme value of undivided attention. But they shouldn’t be resented for this lack of knowledge. They’re kids, after all, and kids lack perspective on a whole bunch of stuff that helps and hurts them.   

That said, these honors students are not the ones who need this skill the most. By virtue of being honors students they will probably all graduate with standard diplomas, most of them with advanced diplomas. 99% of them will pass the EOC SOL, and most of them could pass it this year. It is the outliers in my academic level classes who are most securely fastened in the cave, blithely commenting on the shadows. They’re the ones most resistant to being separated from their phones, but they’re the ones who need it the most.   

I remember a few years ago hearing someone minimizing the act of teaching behaviors in the classroom. “We got into this job to teach, right?” was this person’s constant refrain. Their argument was that teaching is a matter of curricular skills and curricular skills only. Focus on your SOLs and leave the behaviors to the parents. 

It’s a naive claim. It’s a claim that only someone who has not spent time trying to teach over the past three years could believe. The truth is that there are several student behaviors that are inseparable from their ability to successfully learn: academic honesty, turning in work on time, attending class consistently, and paying attention.  

This is hopefully part one of an extended series that will end with me revealing the processes required to keep all students engaged and focused on the instruction, phones be damned.

There’s nothing easy about doing this. But to cede this issue and condone the passive disrespect and perpetuation of ignorance and subsequent injustice makes for an ineffective teacher, someone who might as well leave the classroom – and I have no intention of doing that any time soon.