When Does Getting Children Hooked on the Internet Become Child Abuse?
We have all seen it, kids not even able to speak yet, glued to phones in public places - it breaks my heart in more ways than one.
The tantrum has shifted into fourth gear. The child’s overall mood is similar to a huffing and puffing volcano just before it erupts. Everyone in your group senses the uneasiness, and the patrons next to your table glance nervously about, offering up pleasant smiles that say, “Oh, what a lovely child; please don’t let it ruin our long-awaited dinner.”
Tears begin to make their way out — one, two, three — and then they start to stream. The explosion happens, and everyone in earshot tightens up, grabbing for their drinks to help wash down that whiney, even pathetic scream for “it.” The ugly head of digital withdrawal snarls and twists, glancing at the unfamiliarity of the public setting. The child craves to be soothed, and the parents, mortified as they are, are woefully unskilled in helping their child through this very normal part of socialization.
“Honey, give him your phone; everyone is looking,” Daddy says.
Mommy reaches and lifts her phone off the table; through a kaleidoscope of tears, the child senses that help is on the way. Mommy, who long ago removed her “thumb lock” and secret codes for opening her phone to ensure easier access, flips to YouTube and puts on a live-streaming cartoon channel. Their precious little three-year-old bundle of sobbing and tears slowly transforms into the perfect baby, flashing a smile not seen since he was one or so; his eyes are lit up, and for a second, just before Mommy hands him the phone, she wonders to herself: Who is this benefiting? Me? Him? Or the other guests in the restaurant?
Still walking like a baby, a toddler with balance issues, he has the alacrity of a cat when grabbing the phone. Not a peep is heard for the next two hours except for the occasional giggle and little baby noise lost long ago. Except for the few minutes when Mommy tried to feed baby, resulting in a cloud burst of tears and pounding fists, little Johnny has yet again demonstrated to the assembled, self-absorbed group of adults that he is the “perfect baby.”
Bad Mommy and Daddy
This article is not about the parenting style my wife and I have chosen. We default to good, but I am sure we have made mistakes along the way, like any parent. There is one thing, however, that we have never let our guard down to — and being older than my wife, it was something I initially pushed for more than she did simply because I have a huge family and experience: digital immersion for our son. He is seven and has not been immersed yet. Not until recently did we let him use the iPod to play some games — which, of course, he loves.
Nonetheless, our son knows how to play and spends hours on Lego and Brio, making rockets from paper and cardboard and inventing games based on things he sees around him. He loves the public transportation in our city, so each time we go on a bus, he mimics the driver — and makes me do so.
Sometimes, as it is uncommon in Portugal, we see children on the bus lost in their parents’ smartphones. We have noticed that these children are often Russians, Ukrainians, Brazilians, or Americans. My son complains about how he loses contact with his buddy, a six-year-old Ukrainian boy when they are on the bus together. With his parents standing nearby, the boy vanishes thoughtlessly into the phone, noticing nothing around him.
Two more of my son’s friends, another Ukrainian boy and one from Russia, also lose their bearings when they are not anchored by the digital, handheld world. When we meet them in restaurants for a meal, because my son isn’t digitally inclined, attempts are often made to keep their children at the table and not mentally wafting through the internet. It doesn’t take long before the kids start crying — these are boys six and seven years old — about “how bored they are.” My son is playing a travel version of Battleship, and they are crying about getting their digital fixes. The other day, my son suggested that he and his friend play tic-tac-toe on the paper table covering — the restaurant gave them pencils. The boy had no idea what that game was. My son explained it to him.
Hours daily, my wife and I discuss the world around us with our son. He is ever observing and making his own child-like conclusions. He shares his theories with us and is often right about things. Last week, a meteor flew over Portugal and lit up the night sky. The next day, he was making calculations in his notebook about when the next “asteroid” would hit the Earth — he predicted it would hit New Delhi on June 15th around 6:30 p.m. Time will tell.
Again, this article is not about me and our son but about the harm being done to children from the earliest ages by parents who either don’t understand what they are doing or who are too engrossed in their own digital worlds to care about properly preparing their children for life. At the bus stop the other day, an angelic little three-year-old sat transfixed by a loud, annoying cartoon. Across the street from us, four delightful kittens were racing in circles, playing. The mom tried to point out the kittens to the little girl but could not peel her attention away from the screen.
It was only kittens, I get it, but how much of the world around us filled with his magic, its social cues, and danger are these children missing when buried deep in their digital cocoons?
It’s wrong. I am sure there are some ultra-modern, new-age type moms out in Arizona or, most likely, California who will tell me how “old-fashioned” I am. I don’t care. Children should play. Children need to be bored from time to time, and creating fun when there is nothing to do is one of the greatest joys of childhood; it helps us deal with the doldrums of life. If we are always stimulated, one day, it simply becomes more challenging to attain the same level of satisfaction — just like with any drug.