海角大神

I聽grew up before there were cellphones. I look on in wonder, and bewilderment, as seemingly everyone around me is focused on their devices. Even young children seem absorbed in the things, perhaps following the lead of their parents.聽

I鈥檓 sensible enough to know that I can鈥檛 change what the world has become, that I can鈥檛 compel a person scrolling next to me on the train to share a few words of friendly conversation. But as a college teacher, I can exert hegemony over my classroom.聽

First of all, when it comes to cellphones, I鈥檝e learned that one cannot be punitive about students using them in class. I once had a colleague who tried this, threatening punishment for infractors. The result: The class mutinied. The rest of her semester was, in a word, unhappy.

But neither do I think it productive to take a laissez-faire attitude toward students who are texting friends while the poor teacher labors, ignored and neglected, at the blackboard. I knew a professor who tried this approach in his math class. One day, I ran into some of his students on campus. I asked them who their math teacher was. Their response: 鈥淪ome guy.鈥� It was clear that the professor and his students were operating in two separate worlds, each ignoring the other.聽

Both of these vignettes suggested to me that there must be a middle way. And so I came up with one. It goes like this: On the first day of class, I strike a friendly but purposeful tone with my students, telling them, 鈥淚f I catch you looking at your phone during the class discussion, you must immediately call your parents and tell them that you love them.鈥澛�

I deliver this intelligence with a twinkle in my eye, and my students chuckle good-naturedly. Then I follow up with my end of the bargain: 鈥淭his means that when you come to me with a question or concern, I promise not to text or look at my phone. I will focus all my attention on you.鈥澛�

When delivered in a concerned and caring way, but with seriousness of purpose, my students are on board.聽

Well, mostly. There鈥檚 always an outlier. In my case, his name was Paul. He liked to test the waters of classroom decorum, such as coming to class in his pajama bottoms and slippers. One day, during an animated discussion of 鈥淭he Odyssey,鈥� I caught Paul looking down at his phone and pecking away. 鈥淓xcuse me,鈥� I interrupted. 鈥淥dysseus is about to do battle with the Cyclops. Are you texting?鈥�

Paul was immediately flustered, but I didn鈥檛 have to go head to head with him, because the rest of the class, serving as my proxy, cried out, 鈥淐all your mother!鈥�

To my surprise, Paul complied, putting his phone on speaker. When his mom answered, she asked, 鈥淎ren鈥檛 you supposed to be in class?鈥� To which Paul dutifully replied, 鈥淵es, but I鈥檓 just calling to say, 鈥業 love you.鈥欌��

I couldn鈥檛 have been prepared for what happened next. The class continued to be invested in Paul鈥檚 success by shouting, 鈥淎nd we love you, too, Mrs. D.!鈥�

I think it is too easy to forget how good-hearted these students are. They mostly want to do well. They want to succeed. Banning cellphone use in my class while acknowledging that the devices are an extension of their bodies is a delicate dance. The trick is to communicate to my students that I care about them, and when students know that you care about them, they will go to the ends of the Earth for you.

I鈥檓 sure Mrs. D. appreciates my approach.