We recently bought our oldest daughter her first phone, halfway through her junior year in high school. To most people, that probably sounds like a long time. About 71% of kids have a phone by the time they are twelve, and 91% by age 14, so we were definitely on the later side. 

In our case, the wait was intentional. We decided a long time ago that we would hold off until our kids are 16 to get them their first phone. Some of the reasons are pretty simple. First of all, if I have a hard time controlling the amount of time I spend on my phone (confession: I do!), how can I trust my 10-year-old to use a phone responsibly? Second, younger kids don’t really need their own phone in the same way a teenager who is driving by him/herself does. Third, it’s expensive!

But there’s another important reason that’s not as frequently discussed. Maybe that’s because it’s hard to explain, but I want to make an attempt. We delay phones because we want our kids to learn to make meaningful connections with people. We all know phones have an uncanny way of “sucking us in,” as my kids like to say. It’s almost a cliche at this point: Somehow these tools that were intended to keep people connected also have an ability to make us more disconnected and lonely. This danger of disconnect is the primary reason we delay phone use until the mid-teenage years.

Phones and Identity

About 18 months ago we moved to Florida, and our daughter started taking ballet in a pre-professional program. She was at the studio (which was about 30 minutes from our house) at least 12 hours per week. During performance seasons, practices were often prolonged or added in at the last minute. How were these changes communicated? By group chat, naturally. All the kids in her class were at least 15 years old, and they all had phones.

This was the first time we started to feel parental pressure to get her a phone, for purely practical reasons. We needed to know when practices were scheduled to begin and end, and it was difficult to do that without getting her a phone earlier than we had planned (she was 15 at the time).

But we held our ground, for an important reason: We didn’t want her phone to prevent her from making meaningful friendships. We wanted her classmates and peers to get to know her for the amazing person she is, and we wanted her to take initiative to form in-real-life relationships.

Someone might argue that we were doing her a disservice by not allowing her to have a phone during this sensitive time. How was she going to stay in touch with potential friends? How would she find out when and where people were hanging out? How would she have any social life at all??

But we didn’t want her to only be in the loop if she was part of a group chat. We also didn’t want her phone to become a crutch that prevented her from going through the uncomfortable process of talking to people she might not otherwise reach out to. Most of all, we wanted her to feel secure and confident in who she was, regardless of whether she owned the same technology as her peers. 

So we delayed a bit longer, and as the months went on, we all got used to it. Somehow, even without her own phone, she formed friendships with her peers that were based on her effort to get to know real people in real life, not avatars on a screen, and their effort to get to know her.

Maybe that would have happened no matter what, but the fact that it happened without a phone meant something, to her and to us.

Phones and Reality

People have a lot of different fears about phones, social media, and similar technology, and rightfully so. One of the dangers that most concerns us is the disconnect and communication breakdown these tools lend themselves to. This is especially risky during the teenage years, when kids are trying to figure out their place in the world and form their ideas about who they are.

The teenage years are a time when kids should be experiencing the world, going on adventures, and forming deep friendships. Having a phone is arguably overkill and overload for kids during these most sensitive years. It makes it too easy for teens to miss out on the depth of reality that they long to experience.

I feel this even as an adult. I can’t remember the last time I said I wish I spent more time on my phone. I can definitely remember the last time I said I needed to spend more time with my family.

In Conclusion

You might be wondering how we feel about our daughter’s new phone. The answer: We’ve been surprised at how non-exciting it all has been. There have been no arguments, no scolding over phone overuse, no conflicts over the fact that we still do not allow her to be on social media (that’s another blog post). And on the positive side, I love seeing her name pop up on my phone when she texts or calls me.

The only annoying aspect of the whole thing is that she has a tendency to brag about how much less time she spends on her phone than her dear parents (as well as how much better she is at replying to text messages in a prompt manner). But I guess you can’t have everything.