Cell Phone Bans in a Time of Fear

Why a Ban Isn’t the Answer to Our Bigger Problems

A few weeks ago, while driving home from a road trip with our kids, the conversation turned to the new NYC school policy banning cell phones in the classroom. Both kids were quick to argue that it was a terrible idea. Who wants to give up their pocket-sized gateway to social media, YouTube, and everything else on the web? I mean, no surprise there. Phones allow them to escape teachers, homework, and the mean kid who harassed them in algebra.

I get it; a cell phone ban at school is a hot-button topic, but I hate to break it to my kids—I’m all for the policy. For starters, it puts an end to one dynamic in our house that I’ve come to loathe: one where one of my kids (who shall not be named) texts me on the regular, launching into a defense that includes but is not limited to, the teacher is the whole problem. These texts are an attempt to prosecute their case before that same teacher calls me minutes after the final bell. 

But my support for a cell phone ban isn’t just about making my life easier. I genuinely think this is a good move for education. Many kids are sliding through or falling behind because they’re watching TikToks in class. Teachers are struggling to keep students engaged, and now they must also police phones. It’s just one more hurdle in an already tough environment.

Of course, my kids hit me with the “we’re not the ones abusing it” argument. I countered with the whole “greater good” thing. Then, the conversation took a turn.

One of my kids started crying and said, “If something happens, I want to be able to text you and tell you I love you. I want to be able to talk to you one last time.”

Well, fuck me.

My heart still aches when I think about that moment. Hearing your kid try to process the idea that someone could walk into their school and start shooting is just... too much.

But hey, we’re parents, so we don’t get to tap out when things get tough. My brain went into overdrive, scrambling for something—anything—that would make them feel safe, like everything’s going to be okay. I usually default to reminding them that the chances of something like that happening at their school are astronomically low, and we can’t live in fear. But honestly, that sometimes feels like a pretty hollow comfort.

Also, every time I bust out the "What are the chances?" argument, the Universe laughs at me. Like that time a few years ago when my daughter got hit by a car. She was okay, but it was traumatic for everyone. Her broken leg healed, but the fear stuck around. I kept telling my kids, “Look, you two, I’ve lived in this city for 30 years, and I’ve never heard of that happening! We took the hit, and now we’ve got all kinds of karma in the bank.”

I was feeling smug in my excellent parenting, then, two months later, my son was hit by a car just a few blocks from where my daughter was hit. Thankfully, it was less traumatic—the babysitter saw the truck rounding the corner, ignoring the pedestrians, and yanked my son back just in time so he was only grazed. But emotionally? We were all done. I mean, what are the chances, right? Apparently, higher than I thought.

Yet, here I am, still using the same logic with my kids when it comes to school safety. “The chances are minuscule,” I’d say. “Everything’s going to be okay.” And then I’d try to steer the conversation toward something safer, something I actually had answers for.

Then, last year, on a random Tuesday at 9:20 in the morning, I got a text from my daughter saying her school was on lockdown because a kid had been stabbed. She acted like it was no big deal and it was more of an inconvenience. I tend to think that was a coping mechanism. 

After that incident, there was a fury of school emails about metal detectors and safety. I believe there was a poll. I filled it out, but I feel like metal detectors will not solve the problem and may just be another thing that makes administering school harder while kids will get around it. 

Metal detectors, phones in school, or monitoring our kids on Life360–all of these solutions feel like band-aids designed to make us feel like we’re addressing an issue when, in fact, we are not doing anything about the underlying problem.

NYC decided to hit pause on the cell phone ban because (of course) they announced the ban without a plan for how to implement it. I get it—figuring out how to collect and return 3,000 cell phones daily (the size of one of my kids' schools) is no small task. But the organized, type-A part of me can’t help but snarkily think, "Maybe a little planning ahead would've been nice?" Anyway, back to my point.

The real issue isn’t that I can’t find the right words to comfort my kids about school shootings. The problem is that we’re living in a time where we have to have these conversations. Kids worry about whether they'll get to send their parents one last text before something terrible happens at school. Meanwhile, when I was their age, my biggest concerns were fitting in, getting a fresh perm for my mullet, and wondering if I maybe liked my lady coach just a little bit too much.

I’m not one to climb on a soapbox (okay, maybe a tad bit), but we need to talk about the real problem here. We need more mental health support available for young people. We need mental health professionals working alongside the police to help de-escalate situations. We need common-sense gun reform. (Yep, I’m nervously wading into gun control waters, but it feels like too much is at stake not to.)

I was listening to a podcast with former US Senator Claire McCaskill—who, by the way, I totally fangirl over. I love her no-nonsense take on politics. She gives me hope that there are still smart, thoughtful people in government who actually care. Anyway, my buddy Claire (let’s just go there, right?) asked, “Why don’t we have fingerprint scans on guns?” We use them on our phones, and everyone manages to unlock their devices just fine. So, why not guns?

Hi, Claire!

I did a quick search on this, and apparently, there are concerns about reliability, potential fraud, and identity theft. But still, why aren’t we investing money into research on how to improve this technology? Why can’t we create think tanks dedicated to making guns safer and keeping them out of the wrong hands? Wouldn’t it be helpful to set target dates for implementation? 

Why can’t we work together as a country to protect both Second Amendment rights and keep our kids safe?

Instead, we keep sending thoughts and prayers, saying, “Now’s not the time to politicize,” and kicking the can down the road. We're so polarized, with all-or-nothing thinking on this issue, and it’s holding us back. 

Look, I’m all for hunting—go ahead, have your guns. I grew up in a place where opening day of deer season was practically a school holiday because half the class didn’t show up. I have no interest in stopping you from that hobby. But I’ll be honest—I’m struggling to see why we can’t agree on things like a national registry, safety features, universal background checks, and closing loopholes.

Kids are dying.

Teachers are dying. 

Haven’t we had enough?

Much like this conversation with my kids, I’m at a loss over what is the right thing to say that will help us move toward solutions. The only thing I can think of is to register to vote and then make sure you vote! Get involved in this conversation.  Have conversations with people who hold opposing views, even the uncomfortable conversations. Especially the uncomfortable ones.

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If you’re struggling with how to have the hard conversations I’m referring to above—especially with people who hold opposing views—you will definitely want to listen to last week’s episode of Well...Adjusting. 

We’re joined by author and advocate Tania Israel and she helps us tackle one of today’s toughest topics: with national and global tensions running high, it's becoming harder than ever to have meaningful discussions without damaging our relationships. 

Tania shares practical tools and insights on how to engage in conversations that bridge divides instead of deepening them. If you're looking for ways to talk, listen, and find common ground, this episode is for you.