Toothpaste drips from my mouth, I stare at myself in the mirror. Dark eye circles make me look like a zombie. The faucet squeaks as I turn it with my pinky finger. I can taste the cherry blossom toothpaste; I hear the squeal of the sink handle; I can see my zombie-like self in the mirror; I can smell the damp shower floor; I can feel the toothpaste running down my hand. My phone is in the bottom left corner of my sink as a TikTok plays repeatedly while I brush my teeth. I then walk downstairs to put the dishes away. Dishes in one hand, phone in the other. As I grip four dinner plates with my right hand, my left hand is holding my phone, playing some more TikTok.
The next morning, I wake up groggy, mid-dream. As my eyes are half-open, I force my hand to grab my phone. The first thing I always do in the morning is to grab my phone. I stare at my Sleep Cycle app in disappointment as it says I only slept five hours and twelve minutes. I bring my phone to the bathroom, scroll on Instagram while I use the toilet, and then go back on TikTok as I brush my teeth. Finally, as I put my phone away to put my school uniform on, a wave of regret hits me. Every day, I think to myself. I do this every day. I do the same thing every day.
Everything was rushed. I had to rush my homework. I had to rush to drive to school on time because I overslept, having stayed up late on my phone. Sometimes, I would do my homework for literally ten seconds, then go on my phone for an hour. When conversing with my friends, sometimes we would go on our phones in the middle of talking and get distracted. In a way, that angered me.
It started with Generation Z. Now it’s the most prevalent with Generation Alpha. I’m talking about what we like to call “iPad Kids.” I first discovered this phenomenon when I became one myself. I remember the first time I entered that Apple Store in Markville Mall. I immediately ran over to the iPad section. I was sitting with all the other kids, our eyes glued to the screen. I remember the faint background of chatter and footsteps as I played Fruit Ninja and NBA 2k14 mobile.
Last year, Cole Hastings uploaded a YouTube video exploring the “iPad Kid” epidemic. The video, titled “The iPad Baby Epidemic: A Generation Of Brain Rot,” goes on for fifteen minutes, talking about how Gen Alpha kids ruin their childhood. Hastings proceeds to talk about how iPad kids are getting more epistemic play and less and less ludic play. Epistemic play refers to the “phase of playing where the child collects knowledge and tries things out.”
On the other hand, ludic play is the “more innovative phase of playing where the child starts acting things out with the objects or symbols they are interacting with.” Historically, kids engage with more ludic play. For example, before I had a phone, I would build forts from sofa cushions with my friends during sleepovers. My creativity and innovation while building forts is an example of ludic play.
Hastings argues that with less ludic play, kids are growing up with less creativity during playtime than kids of previous generations. He cites that ludic play is essential for cognitive, emotional, and social development. Kids from Gen Z and Gen Alpha are developing a “consumption over creation” mindset.
Why does the thought of a day without our phones send panic through our minds? Why, in a world full of wonders, do we choose to spend our time looking at a 6×3 screen? Why do we have to be the ones that suffer from phone addiction?
Ever since I got a phone, my phone addiction has been getting worse and worse. My addiction started with using my phone one to two hours a day. As the years went on, that number would increase from three to four hours a day to four to five hours a day.
Now, I can’t do basic tasks without the accompaniment of my phone. Basic tasks such as brushing my teeth or putting the dishes away feel like an hour-long detention without my phone. I couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t like I wanted to do this. It just seemed like my phone was glued to my hand every day in my life.
Jeff Butler’s TedTalk references the criticism that older people have been calling us “soft.” Our new generation’s phone addiction falls into the category of conformity. We feel the need to do everything our friends do. So when all of Gen Z and Gen Alpha society use their phones, we and our friends will probably pick up the phone as well. Butler says, “The first one is sociological, peer pressure; how many of you get frustrated when someone doesn’t respond to a text fast enough?”
Addiction has often been looked down upon. When you think of addictions, you think of drug addicts, alcoholics, gambling addicts, etc. These people are probably not the ones that have a lot of respect in society. Well, we kids are the epitome of addiction. We are more addicted to our phones than those guys are to their addictions. No wonder we keep hearing grandparents, uncles, and parents call us soft. We are just like those addicts. Except we are worse.
As I sat in my friend’s car to go to Dunkin this past week, I laughed when he started watching Instagram Reels in the middle of Lancaster Avenue. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Is someone more addicted to his phone than me? I couldn’t believe it.
Why is it our generation? Why me? Why does the thought of a day without our phones send panic through our minds? Why, in a world full of wonders, do we choose to spend our time looking at a 6×3 screen? Why do we have to be the ones that suffer from phone addiction?
Often, I hear from adults that we are addicted to our phones. My parents, school administration, and hockey coaches all say the same thing.
The truth is that phones take away from human interaction. They take away from our natural human element. They’re fun and useful sometimes. But they’re harmful.
But I understand it now. I can understand why the school wants to take our phones away, why they want to spend thousands of dollars to have us put phones in these pouches we all hate. I now know why my mom used to set all those screen time limits on my phone when I was younger. I understand why my father always called this 6×3 screen “The Little Monster.”
The truth is that phones take away from human interaction. They take away from our natural human element. They’re fun and useful sometimes. But they’re harmful. As Butler says, “Yes, the practicality that smartphones bring to our daily lives is phenomenal, but it comes at the price and near addictive behavior and the shortening of our attention spans.” Phones ruin us. They ruin so much of our lives and how we interact with others. Our lives are not the same with phones.
Last night, I put The Little Monster away. Completely. I brushed my teeth without hearing “Brain Rot” coming from my phone. I put the dishes away with two hands this time, without seeing bitmojis pop up at the top of my screen. When I was brushing my teeth, I looked at myself in the mirror and it seemed like those eye bags were slowly disappearing. I was turning from a zombie back to a human.
I finally chose to live, not exist.
