Today’s Kids Are an Amazing Generation

Thomas and I allowed our kids to have phones with data plans at the age of 14. I’ve always thought this is a reasonable age, but students seem to be getting younger and younger when they receive their first smartphone, smartwatch, Roblox account—you name it. They think that I’m an old curmudgeon when I tell them about the 14-year-old rule. I know at least one kid who had her first smartphone at the age of four.

The longer I’ve taught, the more children I’ve seen in occupational therapy because they learned how to swipe a screen well before they ever gripped a crayon. Or if they’re not actually touching the screens, they’re glued to them, unblinking, inundated by fast-moving images. Their brains have been rewired to receive immediate gratification, so forget giving more than one simple direction at a time—you’ve lost them.

The Amazing Generation by Jonathan Haidt and Catherine Price addresses the risk of allowing children access to smart devices and social media. Written for members of Generation Alpha who are aged 9 to 12, I decided to check it out, since many of my students are in this age range, and I’m always looking for new book recs for parents.

The great thing about The Amazing Generation is that the students themselves can—and should!—read it. The format includes lots of fun graphics in the non-fiction sections, but there’s also a graphic novel that weaves throughout, telling the story of six kids (based on real kids), three of whom don’t have smartphones, and three who are absolutely addicted to them. Inspired by what I read, I have changed some of my own habits, including setting time limits for myself on certain apps to keep me from wasting hours on games and falling down time-sucking social media rabbit holes—and guess what? I’ve read more, exercised more, and spent more time doing real things in the few months since I set those limits.

Do you or your kids need a change? Keep reading for some insights from The Amazing Generation.

The Rebel Code

The Amazing Generation refers to kids rebels who have decided to use technology only as a useful tool or to abstain from it altogether as rebels. Their two-part code is to 1) “Use technology as a tool—don’t let technology use you” and 2) and to “Fill your life with real friendship, freedom, and fun” (p. 5).

The book is full of quotes from preteens to young adults in their mid-twenties who were all burned by technology and became rebels the hard way—by being consumed by tech first and discovering they didn’t like it. One such teenager, when asked what advice she would give her younger self, said she never would have downloaded TikTok, Instagram, or Snapchat. She said young kids are “entranced by their phones and social media, but a lot of them are not enjoying it and they wish they weren’t on it” (p. 9). Can you think of anyone who persistently does something he or she actually doesn’t want to do? That sounds suspiciously like an addiction to me.

The Tech Wizards’ Nefarious Scheme

All the apps that kids are attracted to are making adults rich by making them (the kids) dependent on and addicted to them. Sean Parker, the first president of Facebook, said this: “When Facebook was getting going, I had these people who came up to me and they would say, ‘I’m not on social media… I value my real-life interactions, I value the moment, I value presence, I value intimacy.’ And I would say ‘We’ll get you eventually’” (p. 33). So if you dare to actually live your life and be a rebel, the billionaires who run these companies—what Haidt and Price call “Tech Wizards”—are out to get you.

If you’ve ever done an internet search on something like a new blender, and suddenly Ninja ads are showing up in every social media app you open, this is the Tech Wizards spying on you and trying to get you to spend money—after all, they know what you like because you’ve told them with your search history. Maybe you get a nice new blender that you needed anyway, but they’re also making money off of you. It’s kind of… creepy.

Even when apps are “free,” the cost is the user’s time and attention. While wasted money can sometimes be refunded, once time and attention are used, they are gone. Time spent on an app could be much better spent doing something in real life instead of wasted on something that will soon be forgotten.

It might surprise you to hear that Netflix’s top competitor isn’t another streaming company—it’s our sleep. Binge-watching shows hurts everyone, but it’s especially harmful for teens, whose bodies not only rest and recharge but grow during the eight-to-ten (or more) hours that they sleep every night. Even for those who don’t get caught up in binge-watching, responsible use of technology should include limited (or no) use during the hour before bedtime because the blue light that screens give off suppresses the body’s ability to release melatonin, which is a chemical that helps us sleep. Both of my kids keep their phones charging in the living room at night. Thomas and I keep our phones close, mostly for emergencies, but I use Do Not Disturb between 10:00 p.m. and 6:00 a.m., so unless you’re on my list of emergency contacts, I won’t know you called or texted until the next morning.

“Persuasive design” is a fancy way of tech companies saying “brain hacking,” and they employ people whose job it is to figure out better ways to brain hack their users (p. 85). As the authors point out, hackers get computer programs to do things they weren’t supposed to do, so when our brains are hacked, we do things we’re not supposed to do—like scroll on social media for hours that we’ll never get back.

Time spent doing the same thing over and over again rewires the brain, and sometimes this can be good, such as practicing a musical instrument or a sport. But when this happens with technology, we’re, in essence, being programmed by tech, and this is not a good thing. For preteens and teenagers, their brains are being rewired or programmed to “[help” the tech wizards” (p. 108). When people are consuming media online, even if it’s labeled as something to “inspire creativity” (TikTok), this isn’t the case (p. 113). Creativity is truly inspired when the brain is allowed the “space and time to wander” (p. 113). I’ve always heard that boredom breeds creativity, and kids are allowed to be bored less and less these days—it’s all about stimulating them as much as possible so they’ll quit whining and leave us alone. That’s a personal observation, but if you think I’m exaggerating, do some people watching. The next time you hear a whiny toddler or child when you’re out and about, see how quickly a parent pulls out a phone or tablet, and said toddler/child becomes quiet, mesmerized, almost catatonic.

Adults know (or should know) that not everything we encounter online is true; a lot of it is embellished to put people in the best (or worst) light. Kids, however, are naïve and believe what they read. They also don’t have the maturity to understand when people are trying to use them, exaggerating, or outright lying. Here’s one of my favorite quotes, from Calla, age 22: “If you wait to get social media or a smartphone, you can decide who you are without other people telling you who you should be” (p. 116).

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve likely heard about all the trouble that Roblox has gotten itself into. Marketed toward kids as a world-building game, all kind of bullies and predators use this platform to exploit, extort, and sell drugs to underage users who just want to play. I have six- and seven-year-old students who play Roblox, and if no one is monitoring them, they could be talking to people who they think are other kids but are actually creepy groomers in disguise—because you can become anyone on the internet, can’t you? Roblox knows this, but “limiting user’s engagement [is] hurting our metrics,” one of their employees said (p. 122). We have to be vigilant about our usage when these companies only want to use us to make themselves wealthier. Of course, the addictive side of technology should bother us, but the safety of our children should be even more of a priority.

The authors mince no words when they say, “the tech wizards don’t care about you as a person. They think of you as a product” (p. 128). This means that tech companies need their users to spend less time in the real world and more time using their apps and racking up ad revenue, which is how they make their money. One way to fight back is to invest in basic phones instead of smartphones. Many of these even look like smartphones, but they have limited access to the internet. Some only allow for phone calls or texting, while others have apps that allow for music or maps, but they’re limited when it comes to social media, streaming, and games. And the big bonus for parents: they’re a lot cheaper. If your kids are worried about optics (and teenagers are generally worried about how they look), these phones appear just like their friends’ smartphones but won’t get them in trouble like those others.

Using Technology as a Tool—Instead of Being Used by Tech

Haidt and Price created a three-question survey to help readers decide whether tech is being helpful or harmful:

First, is technology a helpful tool? Think foreign language apps or online documentaries. Those uses are fine, but steer clear of AI that does work for you, like writing an essay. We should be doing the work ourselves “precisely because [it’s] hard. That’s how [we] learn and grow” (p. 160). Not to mention that AI doesn’t always get it right. My elder son discovered this when he tried to use AI help to him find good Shakespeare quotes; he thought it would be quicker than just flipping through the actual text. The problem is that when we put the AI side-by-side with MacBeth, we found that the AI’s quotes and the characters to whom they were attributed were more often than not incorrect.

Second, is technology creating real friendship, freedom, or fun? Watching a movie in real life with a friend makes memories. Sitting around and scrolling through TikTok does not. Something that puzzles me is the concept of AI “friends.” Are you moping around in your bedroom, lonely? AI’s got you! I even saw something in the news about a woman who wanted to marry her AI friend. This is just pathetic and sad. Go out, meet people, have real conversations and real relationships.

Third, is a particular technology addictive? If you answered “yes,” then it’s definitely harmful. Think “free” apps with lots of ads. Every time you click on an ad or download a new app that you discovered through an ad, you’re playing into the tech wizards’ hands. One particular game developer admits that “game addiction was by design” (p. 166). Believe it or not, the apps you have to pay for “are less likely to be designed to be addictive” (p. 161). In addition to opting for ad-free apps, Haidt and Price recommend playing on a computer or gaming console, which can’t be carried around everywhere (especially to bed).

Next time you scroll through social media, pay attention to how many people share something that they hope will persuade you to their way of thinking, whether it’s a video or a photo of a celebrity or politician with a quote attributed to that person. Just because it sounds legit doesn’t mean that it is, and kids aren’t the only ones who fall prey to this type of media. People who desperately want others to agree with them will post anything, and unfortunately, “no one is checking to make sure that the things people [post is] true” (p. 168). This can be damaging when people start spreading false information, assuming it’s true, and speaking of false information, how about online profiles? How many people are hiding behind a fake persona? Again, children aren’t the only ones who fall prey to these creeps, but they’re the most vulnerable. We not only have to educate them so that they don’t get taken in by online impostors, but we should be vigilant about protecting them from websites and apps that give predators access to them to begin with.

Living in Discover Mode

What’s more satisfying, viewing photos someone else took from the top of a mountain or climbing that mountain yourself and seeing the view with your own eyes? I hope it’s obvious that the latter is preferrable, and that’s what the authors refer to as “discover” mode—actually going out and finding out for yourself. The antithesis of this is “defend” mode, and this happens when people are afraid to act because someone has a phone out and could potentially make and post an embarrassing video of them. My 14-year-old (who has not read The Amazing Generation) mentioned the latter to me recently—a lot of people are afraid of doing things because everyone wants to post the next viral video, especially if it embarrasses someone else.

Some kids choose to take advantage of the “rebel reset” when they feel they’re becoming slaves to their devices (p. 174). What, exactly, is a rebel reset? It’s taking a full break for three weeks. This could vary per person. It might not mean getting rid of the smartphone altogether (although it could), but it could mean deleting all social media apps and games, at least for that three-week period. And because their brains might be addicted, this also includes withdrawal. It might be a very unpleasant three weeks, but by the end of them, the rebel should feel much better—and have some new, real life experiences that might not have happened, otherwise.

The authors provide an extensive list of things to do in real life (pp. 210-211), and these, of course, include spending time with real friends. While many people with a multitude of social media followers believe that they have numerous friends, The Amazing Generation points out that followers and friends are not one and the same. Followers may like your posts and say all the right things, but a real friend is shows up and helps you move or brings you soup when you’re sick or does any number of things that followers simply won’t (or can’t) do. And don’t even get me started on chatbots—they are not real, so they can’t do any of these things!

Choosing to Be a Rebel

Although it might seem like kids are safe when they’re in the house, “it’s usually safer to do stuff outside the house than be alone in your room chatting with strangers on social media or in a video game” (p. 206). Sadly, many of today’s kids have no idea how to make friends in real life—it’s uncomfortable—but one suggestion I love is to always carry a book or sketchbook or journal because it’s a signal to other rebels that you don’t have to be on your phone to have fun. I have always carried a book everywhere, but one place where this is (admittedly) odd is at a theme park—but odd or not, I still carry one. My family and I recently went to Disney World, and three of the four of us carried our books and read them when waiting in long lines. While reading in one such queue, I heard someone behind me say, “I love your family.” She was an English teacher, and she told me that reading is her passion. I whole-heartedly agreed and told her my passion is teaching kids with learning disabilities how to read. Maybe a book is larger and more inconvenient to carry than a phone, but if we’re carrying backpacks for water bottles, sunscreen, and ponchos anyway, what’s a book or two?

Since limiting my time on Facebook a few months ago, I’ve noticed that I’m a lot choosier about what—and when—I post. For our last big vacation, instead of trying to share a bunch of updates, I just shared an album of photos at the end, and that allowed me to enjoy the time with my family while we were making memories (like the one below), and when I was sitting at the airport with nothing else to do, I created the album. This is what the authors call living life instead of performing it. I’ve seen other people performing their lives, and the most heartbreaking are the moms with small children, taking a few Instagram-worthy photos with their kids—looking cute at the pool in their matching swimsuits—and then packing up and leaving as soon as the photoshoot is done. How frustrating is that for the poor kids who just want to swim and couldn’t care less about having their picture taken? And you know all their friends think they had a great time. I love it when people say they had so much fun that they forgot to take many photos. I love to document things through photos, but if I had to choose, I’d rather have the memories.

Yellowstone Grand Canyon

These are just a few of the highlights I wanted to share from Haidt and Price’s The Amazing Generation. But, in the immortal words of LeVar Burton—don’t take my word for it—please check out a copy of this book for yourself.

Is AI Making Us Dumber?

In February 2023, I attended a conference for academic support teachers, and one of the workshops addressed ChatGPT. As an elementary school teacher, it wasn’t on my radar at all. The stance that the workshop leaders took wasn’t exactly “if you can’t beat them, join them,” but it wasn’t far off. If kids are going to be exploring ChatGPT anyway, they reasoned, we teachers need to make it our job to learn about it and any benefits it might have in the classroom.

I didn’t give ChatGPT another thought until last year’s preplanning, when one of our admin gave a ChatGPT demonstration by having it write her presentation. Were there some gaffes? Yes, but it did a decent job of covering her topic.

That was my only taste of ChatGPT until one day a few months later when I was completely burnt out and needed to write a lesson plan for my 3rd graders. One of my colleagues said, “Have ChatGPT write it for you.” So I thought, why not? I pulled it up and asked it to write my lesson plan. At the beginning of ChatGPT’s lesson plan, it gave instructions for whichever spelling pattern I was teaching (I wish I’d saved it—I can’t remember what pattern it was now), and while the structure of the lesson plan was fine, the explanation of the spelling pattern was incorrect. In ChatGPT’s defense, it is difficult to give printed instructions for a lesson that is dependent on sounds and articulation. I can imagine it being just as difficult to read a speech therapist’s lesson plan. Even so, the fundamental principles were just wrong. It concerned me that other teachers who are lost and looking to ChatGPT to help them might assume that it’s correct and teach it verbatim. You may think it doesn’t matter if kids don’t learn how to spell (after all, they can just have AI write it for them—yeesh), but what if it writes an incorrect chemistry or algebra lesson?

One thing I will give ChatGPT is that it asks for feedback, and I did not hold back. I told it that I couldn’t use the lesson plan because there were errors, and it asked me what those errors were because, as AI, it has the ability to learn. I told it what was wrong, but again, if I didn’t know what I was talking about, I could fill ChatGPT with all kinds of nonsense that it would internalize and use in the next lesson plan that some unsuspecting teacher asks for. In that way, it reminds me of Wikipedia—which, by the way, my school teaches students not to use as a trusted source. Sure, you may find facts there, but it’s also been known to have bogus information, such as that Sinbad died in 2007 (he’s still alive and well 17 years later).

ChatGPT isn’t the only AI out there. It seems like there’s something new every day. I see commercials for Grammarly constantly. Do we really need AI to help us with our emails? (Okay, I’ll admit, some people need to get help from somewhere. Apparently, it’s too much to ask people to proofread a two-liner before hitting send.) Even WordPress is trying to get me to use AI to “improve” this blog. I’m sorry, if I reach a smaller audience because I’m not using AI, at least that audience is reading my words.

And AI doesn’t just write and edit for you—it can also take a candid photo and make it look like a professional headshot. While this is a nice alternative to having to spend big bucks on a photographer, it’s also a hop, skip, and a jump away from fudging reality. If AI can make a snapshot of me at Disney World look like a professional headshot, couldn’t it also make it look like I’m best friends with J.K. Rowling? Or like I spent two weeks at a fancy resort that I’ve never actually visited? If seeing is believing… what if we can’t believe what we see anymore?

Thinking I’m a dinosaur who needs to get with the times, I asked my 16-year-old what he thinks about ChatGPT. To my surprise, I know more about it than he does. The extent of his knowledge is that it’s AI, therefore he has no interest in it. I asked him why—after all, he’s my dyslexic kiddo who has legitimate access to all the assistive technology he could ever want. What Peter said is that AI is allowing people to get dumber because they don’t have to think. There you have it from a high schooler, folks.

And as if the universe was giving me extra incentive to tackle this topic, I read this the other day: “Calculating machines could provide swift answers to complex sums, but what happened when the human mind atrophied and forgot how to calculate?” (Sisterhood of Dune by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson—yep, this lecture brought to you by a sci-fi geek).

I am all for assistive technology. After all, I’m the same person who made this vision board in grad school:

Just as I have students with dyscalculia (a math disorder) who are allowed to use calculators on math tests, there are assistive technologies that help people with just about any learning disability you can imagine. The more research that comes out about different learners, the more we’re able to differentiate and allow people to learn according to how they are wired. But before assistive technology can be used, the people using it need to know why they’re using these tools and how to use them properly. Putting a calculator into a child’s hands does no good if she doesn’t know which functions to use or the order of operations. Only once she understands the basic principles of math can she use the calculator to free up some of her working memory so she can think through problems and solve them correctly. In other words, we still have to teach people how to think.

Before writing this post, I did go back to ChatGPT to have it write a lesson plan on r-controlled vowels. The activities that it outlined were okay, but it lumped areriror, and ur into one lesson without any explicit instruction about the different sounds or how to differentiate between erir, and ur, which all sound the same. I’m sure I care more about this than most because I’m a specialist, but that’s the point: I’m the specialist, not ChatGPT. The next time I’m feeling overwhelmed, I’ll just take a breather and remember that, even on my worst days, I’m a better teacher than AI.

Here’s the thing: generative AI should only be used to supplement what we already know. It should not be the only source we turn to for anything, and when it’s used at all, it should be with extreme caution and—dare I say?—skepticism. In a time when it’s so easy to let our minds atrophy in front of screens, AI gives us another excuse to let our thinking “muscles” go slack. It’s such an issue that, when submitting a piece of writing for publication, I have to check a box saying it’s my own creation and that no part of it was written by artificial intelligence. Plagiarism, while still an issue, is no longer the main way that people claim works that aren’t their own.

I’ll leave you with this:

I love creating teaching materials or having brainwaves that make me lose myself in a piece of writing for long stretches of time. Don’t let AI steal what you love to do and turn it into a cheap imitation of your original, hard work.


For worksheets, activities, reading passages, lesson plans, and more (that I created), please check out my Teachers Pay Teachers store, Mrs C loves to read: https://www.teacherspayteachers.com/store/mrs-c-loves-to-read