By Clare Nemsick and Jessica Mehrara
Rye High School English teacher James Goldmann recently told his rhetoric class: “This is the first time in a couple of years that I’ve had to scold kids for talking during class instead of going on their phones while I was teaching.”
For high schoolers across New York state, a “bell-to-bell” ban on their cell phones went into effect in September. The Rye City School District adopted its own “Students and Personal Electronic Devices” policy that requires students to keep their phones in their lockers all day. Now, scrolling, texting, or internet searching are not allowed and could result in a phone being confiscated and a parent or guardian being notified.
As teenagers, we’ve grown reliant on our phones for constant stimulation and social connection.
There are times throughout the day when something entertaining occurs, and all we want to do is text our friends about it. Once, for example, we spent our lunch period in the school library doing homework. Without our phones, we were unaware of the chaos and hysterics occurring outside of the school as one of our close friends auctioned off rice pilaf packaged in plastic bags to fund her purchase of a new trampoline. Classmates walked by taking pictures and commenting on the strange sight, while we remained clueless indoors. If we had our phones, we would have bought some pilaf with a side of laughter and memories.
Our phones not only offer fun, but convenience. At 11 a.m., when we’re ready for lunch, we urgently need to round up our friends to drive together to our favorite lunch spots. We need our phones to communicate with our parents about pickup or afternoon plans. In some situations, scrolling on your phone can be a comfort and the only cure for the boredom of a class. All of these situations make us miss our phones like an ex-boyfriend.
So the first weeks without our phones were brutal.
Since freshman year, our phones have been a safety blanket and a way to relieve social anxiety in the halls. When your AirPods are in and your head is down, there is no risk of saying “hi” and facing possible rejection from a cool upperclassman or even a close friend.
But slowly, we began to see the positives.
As students have escaped their technological bubbles, opportunities have arisen to say “hello” to a fellow student free from the stress of rejection and embarrassment. Without your phone, you understand how a simple smile can lead to connection with others. And we’re not the only Rye students who’ve realized this.
The hallways are loud again.
Laughter, greetings, whistles, and exclamations bring light to the ominous, narrow halls. Students from all grades are no longer zombies on their phones walking from class to class, they are engaged people catching up with one another, smiling, and sharing connections. Eyes glued to a screen are replaced with warm smiles and waves. Without AirPods shoved in their ears, students are actually hearing each other.
And they’re connecting with teachers too.
In years past, when a period ended, so did the relationship between students and teacher. Students would rush into the halls and onto their phones. But now, it’s not unusual to see a student and teacher continuing a conversation from that day’s lesson when walking to their next class. Now it’s a snap to stay connected with your freshman year world history teacher with an effortless “Hi! How are you?” as you stroll (instead of scroll) by them in the halls.
This different atmosphere translates to the classroom. More students are actively engaged in class discussions, listening to what the teacher is saying, and doing their assignments in class instead of saving them for home. Even when students are distracted and not giving teachers their full attention, they’re actually talking to one another instead of transporting to an alternate universe on their phones.
Which is why Mr. Goldmann prefers this to the isolation and distraction that a phone brings.
While it’s been hard to say goodbye to midday TikTok scrolls and Snapchat breaks, the classroom is alive again.
And even more importantly, the school is alive.
Or at least it’s alive for 6 hours and 50 minutes. When the clock strikes 2:50 p.m., and the final school bell rings, students pull out their phones like relapsing addicts. As they exit the building, you can see their eyes glued to a screen while their fingers move like a pianist’s as they type.
But for a few hours each day, the school is now abuzz with human interaction. It gives us hope that a world without constant reliance on technology is possible.
Clare Nemsick and Jessica Mehrara are Rye High School seniors.
