Written by: Alicia Anderson
When I started an off-campus babysitting job this semester, the mom briefed me on each of her kids. She said, “I only give them one hour of screen time every week, and if they want to skip this week, I add it to the next one.” Her daughter, age 6, has opted out of this privilege every week for more than 14 weeks and shows no desire to stack up her hours for an iPad binge.
Last semester, I babysat in the evenings for a church, where I witnessed a different side of the screen-time battle. Every night, from 6:30 to 9 p.m., the kids were unable to focus on anything, listen to directions or even have a basic conversation. Some of them would bring their own iPads, clad in one of those thick iPad cases so their small hands could grip the device easily.
I recall trying to talk to a 5-year-old child and asking him about his favorite color, but he could not give me a straight answer. I’d try to ask him another question, and still, he’d give no full sentences or even single-word answers. The difference between these two groups of children is that the kids I babysit now have no idea the extent of what they lack (in screen time), and thus they do not desire it.
When I think back on my own formative years, I remember a mix of using the family devices for games but also experiencing the innate creativity of childhood. There were so many thoughts to be had, things to be said, and silly ideas to be created with one’s young friends. The memories that stand out the most from childhood are from moments when I was so bored that I had to invent something to keep me occupied – like the time I estimated the number of windows in a skyscraper just by looking at it from far away.
Even with the numbing effect of all the screens they are exposed to, I still feel as if children may be the most creative because they seek no limits to their ideas.
The kids I babysit now are some of the most creative and well-spoken children I have ever met. Their creativity knows no bounds as they create strategies in Parcheesi, invent games and convince me to act like a spider-esque superhero as I save them from the imaginative burning building.
On the other hand, the children at the church would yell at us to play Bluey on the TV night after night, pulling up miniature chairs and sitting there transfixed until their short attention spans would run out, and they would race around jumping from one thing to another.
Reflecting on my daily habits, I realize I, too, am addicted to the mind-numbing overload of my smartphone, just as the “iPad babies” were addicted to their screens. The shock of finding out that the kids I babysit only use their iPads for an hour every week forced me to reflect on the fact that I would not survive such a restriction. At my most stressed points, Instagram reels and TikToks provide just the momentary comfort needed to get through an uncomfortable 15 minutes I would have spent with my thoughts.
In thinking of children’s beautiful, creative minds, we should acknowledge that we still hold that potential, even as adults. We might need to allow ourselves some boredom and silence rather than ushering it away with our screens.