Notes from My Knapsack 12-28-23
Jeff Gill
Media tools and mental development in 2024
___
I'm continuing on the question I last started with: Should school age students have access to their phones during school hours?
Teachers and principals in general say no. Most school districts and each building has a policy of one sort or another about use of smartphones or internet devices during class time; often that has to do with a requirement to keep the device in the locker, and accessible only between classes or during lunch.
There's variation out there, but what I hear an increasing academic chorus plead for is some way to treat phones on campus the way we do handguns, and they're not kidding. Many think they should be banned, in no small part because of the hazards they represent.
Parents often feel otherwise, and that's what has top administrators and school boards in a bind. How to support parent and guardian concerns while also doing what's best for the students. I have a few, tentative ideas, which I'll lay out in order of feasibility and practicality.
First, to those parents and families with school age children: to me, the biggest unambiguous challenge with smartphones is how they carve into sleep time. I know there are other issues (fights, self-image, bullying) people think of around students with phones, but in my experience out around our schools, that's the driver for many, even most of the negative effects. Your child's phone should not be in their room at night. Period. Charge it on the kitchen counter, or better yet in your room. No phone after bedtime. Lack of sleep could be creating or magnifying most of the negative issues Haidt and Twenge describe in their research (see previous column).
Honestly, I think that could help our schools and our students more than anything else. Having laid that on the table, I support the idea that phones be deposited in a secure space or blocking bag on arrival and only get it back at last bell. I'm also aware of the opposition that will impede ever getting there.
But I'll take it a step further. I think it would be of interest for some school, or even a district, to declare online tools and internet devices and screens to be limited to only certain parts of the day, in certain classes under clear restrictions. That's not a simple request, because the trends are overwhelmingly to ebooks and online texts and to be fair, that's the world they will live in after graduation.
If I had a million or two laying around doing nothing, I'd be tempted to set up a charter school that was explicitly book and paper oriented, all but one period a day, just to see how learning happened in that setting again. There is so much we don't know yet about learning on screens.
Yet I'm teaching a graduate level course three times a year online myself, to students I mostly never meet. It's amazing. It's not all bad. We just still don't know so much. Which makes me wonder…
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's quite serious about the sleep thing, which is a boat anchor on students today. Tell him how you're sleeping at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads.
Friday, December 01, 2023
Notes from My Knapsack 12-7-23
Notes from My Knapsack 12-7-23
Jeff Gill
Connections that short circuit communication, let alone learning
___
Should school age students have access to their phones during school hours?
There's a familiar fatalism to the discussions I've been hearing the last year. It's akin to the "vast wasteland" worries Newton Minow first voiced sixty some years ago about television. But kicked up a notch, both in the level of concern and the basis for it, and as to the presumed inability of anyone to do anything about it.
Jonathan Haidt, a highly respected non-partisan scholar at NYU, has put forward some unambiguous data showing the link between common smart phone use and juvenile mental health. I won't walk you through too much of it, and it's easily findable online (yes, irony, hold that thought), but his point is something has happened, and it tracks closely with the spread of hyper-connectedness by juveniles mostly through their phones.
Correlation is not causation, true (I heard you say that!), and good people are working on that; you can look at Jean Twenge's work for first steps to nail down those links and triggers. What has my attention is the near unanimous opinion among educational professionals, teachers and administrators alike (and they do not always agree on everything, but they do here) that everyone would be better off, emotionally, psychologically, and academically, if personal phones were treated, and I'm quoting what a number have said to me all not knowing others said it the same way, "like we would a weapon on campus." In other words, no phones. None.
That's what they'd like. They also all quickly admit they know it's not going to happen. Wait, if they all feel that way, from the office secretary to the substitute teachers, plus the principals and assistant superintendents, why can't that become a policy, at least in some districts as a test?
The answer is parents. Even attempts to limit and manage student phone access during the day, such as a disciplinary action on a student who has admittedly broken school rules and been on their phone repeatedly without permission during class, in restrooms, etc.: the parents are all over administrators and the district office. In general, I'm told, school staff don't believe school boards would support it.
There's a complicator here: the school shooting issue of the last decade or two has parents wanting to be able to contact or be contacted by their child if something happens at the school. It's a mix of pragmatism and sentiment stirred up by strong parental emotions. My child needs to be able to call me at any time.
Those of us who readily recall one phone, in the office, used only with great necessity by a student and not always then, will sigh. That train has left the station. We are all used to constant contact and "find my phone" tracking and the like.
Meanwhile, good people with close attention to the issue have real concerns about the impact of smartphones on learning and emotional health at school. What can we do? I'll try to suggest some ideas in my next column.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's not promising to solve the whole question, but he's been thinking about some solutions. Tell him your ideas at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads.
Jeff Gill
Connections that short circuit communication, let alone learning
___
Should school age students have access to their phones during school hours?
There's a familiar fatalism to the discussions I've been hearing the last year. It's akin to the "vast wasteland" worries Newton Minow first voiced sixty some years ago about television. But kicked up a notch, both in the level of concern and the basis for it, and as to the presumed inability of anyone to do anything about it.
Jonathan Haidt, a highly respected non-partisan scholar at NYU, has put forward some unambiguous data showing the link between common smart phone use and juvenile mental health. I won't walk you through too much of it, and it's easily findable online (yes, irony, hold that thought), but his point is something has happened, and it tracks closely with the spread of hyper-connectedness by juveniles mostly through their phones.
Correlation is not causation, true (I heard you say that!), and good people are working on that; you can look at Jean Twenge's work for first steps to nail down those links and triggers. What has my attention is the near unanimous opinion among educational professionals, teachers and administrators alike (and they do not always agree on everything, but they do here) that everyone would be better off, emotionally, psychologically, and academically, if personal phones were treated, and I'm quoting what a number have said to me all not knowing others said it the same way, "like we would a weapon on campus." In other words, no phones. None.
That's what they'd like. They also all quickly admit they know it's not going to happen. Wait, if they all feel that way, from the office secretary to the substitute teachers, plus the principals and assistant superintendents, why can't that become a policy, at least in some districts as a test?
The answer is parents. Even attempts to limit and manage student phone access during the day, such as a disciplinary action on a student who has admittedly broken school rules and been on their phone repeatedly without permission during class, in restrooms, etc.: the parents are all over administrators and the district office. In general, I'm told, school staff don't believe school boards would support it.
There's a complicator here: the school shooting issue of the last decade or two has parents wanting to be able to contact or be contacted by their child if something happens at the school. It's a mix of pragmatism and sentiment stirred up by strong parental emotions. My child needs to be able to call me at any time.
Those of us who readily recall one phone, in the office, used only with great necessity by a student and not always then, will sigh. That train has left the station. We are all used to constant contact and "find my phone" tracking and the like.
Meanwhile, good people with close attention to the issue have real concerns about the impact of smartphones on learning and emotional health at school. What can we do? I'll try to suggest some ideas in my next column.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's not promising to solve the whole question, but he's been thinking about some solutions. Tell him your ideas at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads.
Monday, November 27, 2023
Faith Works 12-1-23
Faith Works 12-1-23
Jeff Gill
How Our Christmas Has a History
___
What I want to do this December is go back to a few particular years, and look at our local roots, which have a wide reach, for how Christmas came to be in Licking County: what we can easily think of as "how it's always been." 1800, 1844, 1865, and 1944. There are other points of interest along the way, but I'd like to visit, each in turn, a Christmas memory out of each of those four years.
1800 marks what is effectively the first Christmas observed as such in our area. We have some historical records of people passing through in other months during earlier years, 1751 and 1773 in particular, but not during December.
What we call pioneers were the first European American visitors to leave records; there were Native Americans here for thousands of years, and as I wrote previously, there were African Americans here through the winter of 1773, with a community presided over by a Shawnee woman who was chief of a mixed Delaware and Shawnee settlement, but we know nothing more about their story, or if they marked Dec. 25th in any way.
The first pioneer settlers out of Pennsylvania and Maryland that we have confirmation for arrived in the spring of 1800, most of them men without family at first, but not all. The initial work to clear land, plant crops, then build cabins came first, and for most the word would be sent back through the nearest post office at Zanesville to come on west.
Isaac Stadden and his brother, Col. John Stadden were among that earliest group of arrivals; Isaac is buried just east of the giant basket, in the Bowling Green Cemetery which holds so many of our early settlers. They worked to prepare a place, planting often in openings left by earlier Native American clearing and burning efforts for their crops, speeding the pioneer process.
Benjamin Green and his son-in-law Richard Pitzer had tried out some land for a year near Marietta, then came up the spring of 1800 to land about where O'Bannon Ave. is today, but Benjamin and Catherine had eleven children, some full-grown, so their whole family were involved from the start (they would have three more, after relocating to the Hog Run/White Chapel area south of Newark a few years hence).
Isaac Stadden left his brother in charge once the crops were in and the cabin built, and went back in person to escort his wife, also a Catherine, and their two children to what would become in 1808 Licking County.
By the time they arrived, fall was in the air, and so was something else. John was a widower, and Benjamin Green had a daughter Elizabeth, better known as Betsey. She and John were about the same age, and had determined to share their challenges together in marriage, had set a date of Dec. 10, 1800 to be married. By all accounts everyone was happy for them, including brother Isaac. As he had business with the territorial magistrate, Judge Henry Smith back in Zanesville, he offered to call on his services to marry the happy couple.
But the judge explained to Isaac that the law required notice be posted at three prominent places for a minimum of fifteen days before a marriage could be solemnized. As a good brother, Isaac took it upon himself to ride about, post the notices, and then on Christmas Day escorted to the bride and groom their officiant.
Our earliest history of Christmas is practical, functional, but not without a small note of romance. That's very much what Christmas was in the earliest days of settlement in Newark and Licking County.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he knows he could have picked other years, but believes you'll learn from the ones on offer. Tell him about your customs of Christmas at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads.
Jeff Gill
How Our Christmas Has a History
___
What I want to do this December is go back to a few particular years, and look at our local roots, which have a wide reach, for how Christmas came to be in Licking County: what we can easily think of as "how it's always been." 1800, 1844, 1865, and 1944. There are other points of interest along the way, but I'd like to visit, each in turn, a Christmas memory out of each of those four years.
1800 marks what is effectively the first Christmas observed as such in our area. We have some historical records of people passing through in other months during earlier years, 1751 and 1773 in particular, but not during December.
What we call pioneers were the first European American visitors to leave records; there were Native Americans here for thousands of years, and as I wrote previously, there were African Americans here through the winter of 1773, with a community presided over by a Shawnee woman who was chief of a mixed Delaware and Shawnee settlement, but we know nothing more about their story, or if they marked Dec. 25th in any way.
The first pioneer settlers out of Pennsylvania and Maryland that we have confirmation for arrived in the spring of 1800, most of them men without family at first, but not all. The initial work to clear land, plant crops, then build cabins came first, and for most the word would be sent back through the nearest post office at Zanesville to come on west.
Isaac Stadden and his brother, Col. John Stadden were among that earliest group of arrivals; Isaac is buried just east of the giant basket, in the Bowling Green Cemetery which holds so many of our early settlers. They worked to prepare a place, planting often in openings left by earlier Native American clearing and burning efforts for their crops, speeding the pioneer process.
Benjamin Green and his son-in-law Richard Pitzer had tried out some land for a year near Marietta, then came up the spring of 1800 to land about where O'Bannon Ave. is today, but Benjamin and Catherine had eleven children, some full-grown, so their whole family were involved from the start (they would have three more, after relocating to the Hog Run/White Chapel area south of Newark a few years hence).
Isaac Stadden left his brother in charge once the crops were in and the cabin built, and went back in person to escort his wife, also a Catherine, and their two children to what would become in 1808 Licking County.
By the time they arrived, fall was in the air, and so was something else. John was a widower, and Benjamin Green had a daughter Elizabeth, better known as Betsey. She and John were about the same age, and had determined to share their challenges together in marriage, had set a date of Dec. 10, 1800 to be married. By all accounts everyone was happy for them, including brother Isaac. As he had business with the territorial magistrate, Judge Henry Smith back in Zanesville, he offered to call on his services to marry the happy couple.
But the judge explained to Isaac that the law required notice be posted at three prominent places for a minimum of fifteen days before a marriage could be solemnized. As a good brother, Isaac took it upon himself to ride about, post the notices, and then on Christmas Day escorted to the bride and groom their officiant.
Our earliest history of Christmas is practical, functional, but not without a small note of romance. That's very much what Christmas was in the earliest days of settlement in Newark and Licking County.
Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he knows he could have picked other years, but believes you'll learn from the ones on offer. Tell him about your customs of Christmas at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads.
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