No cell phones were allowed at my child’s school dance

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  • My daughter got a cell phone for Christmas last year and she’s attached to it.
  • Her school said no phones were allowed at 7th grade dance and she was fine with that.
  • I was excited for her to spend a night without phones, but also worried about how she would reach me.

Parents, teachers and school administrators know that teenagers are glued to their phones. After our middle school daughter got her head for Christmas last year, we only saw the top of her head for months.

That’s why it was surprising to see her willingly leaving her beloved phone on the kitchen counter without hesitation when she attended a recent middle school dance. But she knew the school rules: phones are not allowed. And if she brought it with her, she had to hand it over when she entered anyway, so why bother? I knew the pickup time and she knew she could borrow an adult’s phone or use the school phone to call me if necessary.

So, dressed in a baby blue sundress with her favorite pearl earrings (and casual in Nike blazers – because she’s 13), my daughter excitedly skipped off to spend a few hours with her friends, dancing and singing lyrics to Taylor Swift and Olivia Rodrigo meet at.

She said it was the best night ever

And she did. She danced every song all night and came home breathless and happy, calling the dance “the best night ever.”

When she returned home, she immediately resumed her normal activities and began texting and SnapChatting with her friends. But between seven and nine o’clock that evening there was only laughter, music and dancing – and no one had a phone in their hand.

No phones means real, authentic fun for kids

As a parent navigating a digital world that seems light years away from the world we grew up in, I love this policy. I love that the kids who chose the dance lived in the moment for two hours, looking into each other’s faces and having real, authentic fun – not manufactured, filtered fun suitable for Snapchat or TikTok were.

I love that my teenage daughter had that feeling of magical joy that doesn’t happen often – the kind you feel deep in your chest, the kind you remember for a lifetime. I can remember having so much fun when I was 13, dancing with my friends, screaming, and singing Whitney Houston’s “I’m Every Woman,” and I never imagined a world where everyone was would have a tiny computer in our hands.

She could still reach me if needed

I shared this policy on social media and received a lot of praise for our school administration. But the comments were also flooded with criticism, particularly regarding children’s inability to contact their parents when there was an emergency like a shooting, or when they were bullied or harassed, or felt sick and wanted to leave.

There is a simple solution to the second group of critical comments. Kids who hand over their cell phones can reclaim it when they leave and then use it to call someone for a ride. You can also ask to borrow an adult’s cell phone or use the school phone.

However, when it comes to the issue of gun violence, I understand their point of view. I live in fear that my children will face an active shooter every day.

It’s a balancing act – raising children in the digital world and also in a country plagued by gun violence. I want my child to have these authentic, core memories – just like I did as a child. But I also know that our world is not the world in which I grew up.

An evening without phones is worth the risk

I want my 13 year old to enjoy being 13. I want her to feel free and independent with a tiny computer in her hand. And sometimes I want her to feel free and detached from me.

This means she sometimes leaves her phone at home. And that for two hours without it, without me, she has to deal with everything that is going to happen around her so that she can lose herself in her favorite song. So she can hold hands with her best friends and sing “Getaway Car” at the top of her lungs. So that she can come home and tell me that she just had “the best night ever” – even if (or maybe because) none of her dancing memories exist online, just a memory in her head and in her heart.

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