I’ve come to the conclusion that the longer you’re at this parenting lark, the less tolerance you have for some of the nonsense that goes along with it.
Competitive parenting is the obvious one. But also things such as people saying their baby sleeps through the night, or childbirth is no worse than period pain, or that a Bounty bar doesn’t count as one of your five a day.
As well as nonsense like homework. And the fact that it continues to be the bane of children’s lives, but we persist with it, in spite of very little evidence to suggest it’s beneficial to primary school children in particular – in the misplaced hope that someone, somewhere, at some time, will see the error of its existence and put us all out of our homework-induced misery.
(Till then, there’s always newspaper columnists.)
Or formal, impractical uniforms that are not conducive to children playing or being generally active, at a time where children are struggling with fundamental movement skills. Let alone the misery these types of uniform cause for children with sensory difficulties. Or school rules that run contrary to everything we say to parents of teenagers about picking your battles – are hairstyles a hill we want to die on?
It’s not that parenting miles on the clock turn you into a school gate version of Victor Meldrew – albeit “I don’t believe it” becomes a far more prevalent part of your vernacular as you progress through it. But that a shift happens, as you finally realise you’re a grown-up, and manage to park the school/student complex that you never quite left behind. While, at the same time realising that some of the rules that made no sense to you as a teen, now, erm, still make no sense.
Here we are back at the first weeks of a new school year. A nationwide teacher shortage looms, while parents of children with additional needs recently took to protesting outside the Department of Education about a lack of suitable school places.
Anyhow, we’ve a new rule about smartphones incoming for those of us with secondary school students.
Minister for Education Norma Foley has revealed plans are afoot for a mobile phone ban in secondary schools. And yes, those of us old enough to remember the great Department of Education circular of 2017 that sought to put an end to ridiculous crested uniform expenses and brand-specific technology, almost choked on our oat milk lattes (kidding – I’m like Sting. It’s a tea-only zone, here) at the memory that the circular proved to be unenforceable, meaning many parents across the country still have the pleasure of paying for ridiculously priced crested uniforms and brand-specific technology.
Since then, Minister for Health Stephen Donnelly has suggested a ban on social media for those who are under 16.
So, how’s this going to work?
On the face of it, many of us wish we could return to a time before smartphones and social media existed for our children. And I’ve heard directly from teenagers through work, that they too lament their existence and intrusion on their lives. But they’d only want to be without them, if everyone was without them, and therein lies the problem.
The genie is well and truly out of the bottle. Along with the need for buy-in – which will ultimately be essential – this generation are digital natives who can run rings around their parents when it comes to anything technological. If you’re one of the lucky parents whose teenagers don’t run rings around them in this regard, it’s likely they do, you just don’t know about it yet.
That’s not to say that we shouldn’t strongly push back against the harm that social media and so much time lost in the virtual world is doing to our children. And of that, I have no doubt. But this is life now, and our children will continue to live in a digital world, bombarded by unattainable and fake beauty standards, misinformation, disinformation and imagery that plays on their vulnerabilities after the age of 16 unless we take social media companies to task for it. We need to prepare them for the world they will live in and enable them to navigate that space. No easy ask when so many adults struggle with it.
Educating children about responsible usage, with clear boundaries also in place, bringing our teenagers in on the conversation – rather than a blanket ban – may well be more effective if done properly. And may be more likely to get parental buy-in too, as those whose children have medical conditions, struggle with anxiety, or are being bullied at school may not like the idea of their teens having zero access to phones.
But we shouldn’t be naive. The teens will know what they’re missing out on and will find a way around it.
So, what will the fallout be for them, when they do?