(This is the last installment in a three part series looking at how it is we might navigate raising children in the Age of Technology. To catch up, go to True North Part 1 & 2)

Over the past few weeks, we have looked at your ability to be present, along with the living of your values, as a way of approaching the challenges we face raising children in technology dominated times. Today, we turn our attention to your child. You do not need to be a developmental expert to know what is and is not appropriate for your child regarding the technologies. What you do need is a willingness to learn how to be present to who it is that stands before you. To pay attention in a way that allows you to make decisions that have everything to do with the truest needs of children. Pause for a moment and think about your child. What is the leading edge of the phase they are in, the thing that most characterizes where they are at at this time in their lives? Then, ask yourself, “How do the technologies fit/not fit with this?”

Childhood is the great unfolding. Without even getting into the specifics of each stage, we can keep a couple of things in mind; there are crucial windows of development and experiences in childhood set the stage for lifelong habits. Looking first at the various stages of childhood, we need to remember that every time period contains both opportunity and vulnerability. Further, each stage rests on the foundation of what came before. We serve our children best when we can match the demands of their growing with the very best of what the environment has to offer. And what the environment has to offer needs to be culled so that it supports the real needs of growing bodies, minds and spirits. Throughout childhood, every part of them is “coming online.” Would we not be prudent to thoroughly vet how, when and where the screens might be distorting our children’s development?

Secondly, we know that childhood is the time when lifelong tastes, preferences and habits are established. Think back to your own childhood remembering something that was the norm for you back then, but that as an adult you needed to be free of in order to be happier and healthier. How hard was that? Once established, our habits can be difficult to break from, even when we know they are not working for us. Could we learn to be more protective when choosing what to expose our children to, knowing that what they receive as children imprints them for life? Here is a short list of what we are habituating them to; the need for increased stimulation and immediate gratification, sleep deprivation, the inability to be alone or quiet, disconnection from their bodies, the view of others as objects to be deleted when not to their liking, decreased creativity, the need for repetition and over-exposure, desensitization to disrespectful and disturbing images, and the harmful belief that they, not the adults, are in charge. If our children are always learning about what to bring with them into adulthood, what is it that we want them to carry forward?

Without a doubt, we are in the midst of an unprecedented experiment, and our children are unquestionably the guinea pigs. Will they be able to undo the unintended consequences that life with technology brings?  We could take the long view. We could be conservative. We do this all the time in other arenas like driving, drinking, voting, or getting married. We, the older generations, have come to the determination that these experiences exceed the developmental capacities of younger ages. This is not about deprivation or saying that technology is bad. It is about saying, “Not yet.”

P.S. In the end, raising children goes beyond tips, tricks and techniques. At its heart, this is about your presence, your ability to live your values and your capacity to discern the truest needs of your child.

Last week (see True North Part I) we began to explore the idea of creating an orientation that would help us navigate the demands of making choices around the technologies and our children. In our first conversation, we explored the absolute necessity of our presence. As the adults, we are faced with a serious and sacred charge; that of protecting and ushering our children through this world. Without the ability to be present in our own lives and in the lives of our children, we run the risk of allowing them to be exposed to what may not be in their best interest, simply because we were not “there.” This week, we look at how identifying and living our values serves as a companion to our practice of learning to be present.

Living our values is an ongoing, lifelong inquiry. To be part of that flow requires that we be present. Without our presence we cannot know whether or not we are actually living our values. There can be a world of distance between our stated values and our lived values; between wanting something and choosing something. Values do not live in a vacuum. They must be lived daily; in easy, uncertain and difficult times alike. They must come straight from our hearts and from the clearest places of our minds and right into the living of our lives. And when we find ourselves out of alignment, we must be willing to change course. Without this level of integrity, we will expend too much energy trying to address the daily technology challenges of “if”, “when”, “where” and “how much” for our kids. For too many of us, this is exactly why we say yes when we want to say no; it is just too much effort.

So, practically speaking, how would we begin? First and foremost: What are your family values? If you have not thought about this before, spend some time writing out what you believe is in the best interest of your children and what matters most to you about family life. When in doubt, give it the real life litmus test by asking yourself how and where you spend your time, money and energy. No matter what we might tell our children what our values are, our actions speak louder than our words. Our actions form the fabric of our family life and are what our children listen most closely to.

A wonderful exercise to align with a lifelong inquiry around your values is to develop a question that you can hold. Let your question serve as a way shower, a contemplation, something you can hold beyond right and wrong. Here are a couple of examples around technology and kids: “If I had all the courage, strength and support that I needed to live my family values around how my children use technology, I would or would not…” and “If I was not worried about fitting in or about dealing with an upset child, would I make different choice here around my child’s technology use?” Let this be an unfolding conversation you have with yourself. One that helps you to get clearer and clearer on what matters most to you.

It is no secret that we are in uncharted waters when it comes to the technologies and the imprint they are leaving on young bodies and young minds. It is turning up everywhere. Our children are being exposed at ever younger ages and with increasing frequency. Shouldn’t there be some kind of vetting system for parents? Something that will help us make our way without feeling as though we either have to make this a full time job to figure it all out, or are left needing to turn a blind eye due to the overwhelm of it all.

We need a True North. An orientation. Something that we can refer to in the midst of the sea of changes the technology is bringing. It is impossible to do this on the fly; there are too many choices, pressures, and ever increasing speed around all of this. Where can we stand in the midst of a constantly shifting terrain and still remain clear and firm in what makes sense for our families? What is it that will endure through all of this; lighting our way so that we can make sound decisions on something that is so thoroughly impacting the lives of our children?

It can be summed up as follows: Your presence, the ability to live your values, and the real developmental needs of your children. In this first part, we begin with you and your ability to be present. This can be the most challenging. There are so many demands and distractions. And yet, without your presence, you will not know whether or not you are living up to your values. And you will not know who your child is, or what she needs. Learning to be present requires that you slow down and notice. It asks that you make room for the more subtle interior flows of a child’s unfolding world and of your family’s inner life. In a world big on what is grandiose, overt and dramatic, it can feel as though you are being asked to attune to the mundane, the boring, the insignificant. This could not be further from the truth.

How does one go about learning to be present? In a word, mindfulness. Straight out of the Buddhist traditions and right into the pressing needs of life in the modern world, this ancient practice is all about learning to be present moment to moment without judgment. There is learning involved here. This will take time and practice. And there is the prerequisite of letting go of judging what it is that you notice. To judge is to believe you already have the answer, that you already know all there is to know about something. Judgment keeps us from seeing things as they actually are. And without an open and curious assessment regarding who and what stands before us, we will miss the mark every time in our decisions and in our choices.

Mindfulness opens us up to seeing when we are present to our children and when we are not. The practice helps us discover what it is that keeps us from being where we are, and this may be the most important thing to discover; what it is that keeps you from noticing your life, your child, and how you are living. In that noticing resides the potential for change and for realignment with what matters most. And so, it might look like this: You begin to notice that there are times when you do not feel good about what your child is doing in front of a screen. In the early moments, there is no need to do anything other than to notice what it feels like to be ill at ease in this moment. Maybe there is tension in your body. Maybe you notice the beginnings of an argument about to erupt. Perhaps there is an association that keeps playing through your mind.  Maybe there is something about your child’s behavior that leaves you feeling uneasy. Keep noticing whatever is there. Keep suspending judgment. Be willing to wait. Be willing to be surprised by what reveals itself to you. And then act on that revelation.

This is the first of a three-part series.

In The Age of Technology, we often hear of people and institutions using the phrase “early adapter” to describe those who embrace the newest technologies before anyone else. In the culture, there seems to be a cache attached to this; as if those first in are somehow more advanced, savvy, visionary even. It would be easy to believe this, until and unless that is, you pay attention at what has already been happening to those first in. Those whom we might more accurately describe as, “the canaries in the coal mine.”

In her book, Disconnected, Devra Davis cites research demonstrating that those teens shown to be heavy users, those in early and using a lot, are the same group that are 4-5 times more likely to develop brain cancer in their late twenties. And in South Korea, who as a country embraced technology about a decade ahead of us, is the same nation that can now boast Internet Addiction Camps, where their young spend weeks in technology rehab. And then there are the teachers, the really seasoned ones, the ones who had a “before”; who standing on the front lines will describe today’s habitually plugged in students as having tremendous difficulty focusing, attending and concentrating. All skills, by the way, that are the most essential building blocks for learning. This is the short list on the canary  hit list. Likely, we all have our examples. 

Would we ever send our young down into a coal mine to determine if the air would sustain life? Not likely. But, in effect, that is what we are doing when we plug them in with no awareness of the long-term consequences to their physical, social, emotional, mental and spiritual health.  And once that “air” has been breathed, is there a way to take it back? To negate its impact? To undo the damage done? What would it be like if we took a more cautious and skeptical approach to our children and their use of the technologies? It would look like more work for us for sure. It takes effort to notice and to make choices that go against the cultural grain. But should that be the criteria? You decide.

“Disturbing truth: Risks can’t always be lowered-and trying creates risks of its own.”*

There is a very disturbing truth that each parent must face up to or run the risk of making potentially harmful choices for their children. That truth being: We cannot always protect our children. This is a horrible and terrifying thought and I get why you may not want to hear what I have to say. But, without facing up to one of the harshest realities we as parents will ever face, we risk deluding ourselves and our children. And more to the point, we risk making choices that not only do not work, but that may cause harm.

So, here we go. Oftentimes, parents cite safety as the number one reason to give their children a cell phone. This is especially the case with teens and driving. Driving is an inherently risky proposition, more so for new drivers.The research says that the number one way our teens die an accidental death is in a car crash. And that the number one cause of these accidental deaths is distracted driving. Guess what the number one distraction is? Cell phones. Really, really take that in. This is where, in our attempt to believe we can minimize or eradicate risk, we have created not only more risks, but potentially the very scenario we are trying desperately to avoid.

If you feel that for safety reasons a cell phone is something you would like your child to have, here are a couple of things to consider. One, remember that this is a choice, a preference, something you would “like”, but not an absolute requirement, and more to the point, never a guarantee of safety. This is a luxury and as such it should be kept in its place. Two, if it truly is about safety, why then do our children need smart phones? Why encourage the distraction? Why purchase something with all the bells and whistles which in reality encourages them to be distracted while driving? How does this help insure your child’s safety? It does not. If you feel they need something, make it utilitarian.** They will hate it, but you will have established yourself in the position of the one who understands the risks better than they and as the one who is willing to act on behalf of that knowing.

*From Less Medicine, More Health by Dr. H. Gilbert Welch. Interestingly he is looking at what drives too much medical care. I find many parallels between the over emphasis on technology in healthcare and its rampant presence in our children’s lives.

**I am told that a cell phone without a plan is still able to dial 911. I have also seen phones, usually marketed towards seniors (they will really love you for this one!!) that are only phones. That’s it. No Internet. No texting.

Home is where it all begins. At its best, home is what nourishes, protects and sustains. Without home, we are lost. That includes all of us; kids and grown-ups alike. The most important question we can ask of our home life is, “How can we create a place that nurtures and protects the real needs of our families?” This is a strenuous and at times confusing question to live into. Maybe that is why so few of us do it. To be sure there are obstacles. We live far from our families of origin and the neighbors we grew up with, leaving us without a sense of continuity and support. We are so busy that often the details of home life and our children’s needs feels like too much of a burden. We are brainwashed 24/7 by marketing efforts that tell us what we need in order to belong, be OK, successful and happy, and that in all actuality often run counter to the truth. And then there are the “experts”. They list out what our children need, which at times can be helpful, but more often than not leave us feeling as though we are constantly trying to catch up and measure up; all the while robbing us of our own internal guidance and common sense. In the meantime, we are forgetting that every child needs an environment that sustains  them. One that transcends the latest advice with its 10 easy steps to a healthy home. A place where their real needs are being met; like an important conversation, a hug, a reminder, a wholesome snack, a limit.

Home is where it all begins. Without this, everything that comes after will be built on shaky and false ground. This is not about being Supermom or a helicopter parent. It is not about being CEO of your kids. Nor is it about turning your child into a project or an extension of yourself. What it is about is turning our homes into sanctuaries; places where our children’s real needs are honored. In our efforts to be part of the Ultimate Rat Race, who is keeping an eye out for the real needs of our children? So many of us are so caught up in the doing and the keeping up with it all that our children are the forgotten causalities. This has dire consequences for them. And for us. In our absences, both literal and emotional, our children have turned to technology to give them what they need in terms of guidance and connection. When this happens, we are putting the life and well-being of our children into the hands of something that does not, cannot, and will never, ever truly care about them. EVER. We are taking a tremendous risk when we ignore the unrecognized and invisible costs associated with allowing technology to be the most important thing in our children’s lives.

Home is where it all begins. At its best, whatever we allow into our homes and therefore  into our children’s lives should be a powerful and congruent reflection of what they truly need and what we value most. Everything else is a distraction at best and a violation at worst. And so I ask you, when was it that we traded the developmental needs of our children and the values of family first for flat screens, Ipods, and X-boxes, all the while deluding ourselves into believing that these are the makings of a good home? Why have we made the technologies a priority over the people we live with and the true needs of our growing children?

I made a mistake recently. I allowed into my home what I thought would be a harmless, albeit silly movie that my son wanted to watch. As opposed to harmless, it was exceedingly crass and inappropriate for a growing teen; glorifying drug use, lewd sexuality and crude objectification of women. My heart breaks thinking about the young man on the brink of deciding the important and lifelong beliefs that he will take into the world; those very same perspectives that will inform him about what to expect and wish for from his life. How does it help him to see women being demeaned and reduced to the worst of the hyper-sexualized, barbie-esque stereotypes? And how does it help him to imagine his life and what makes it worthwhile, when he sees characters in the story getting wasted and holding it up as the epitome of what makes a man free and king of his castle?

The images our children take in shape their minds. They create their beliefs. They pepper their wants, desires and perceived needs. And if for a moment you doubt this, why then would the advertising world spend billions of dollars on things that did not influence them? The images instruct them on how to be a man, or a woman. What to want. What it looks like to be good or bad, successful or desirable.

We have always had storytellers for the young, those charged with the sacred duty of offering them guidance, inspiration and entertainment through carefully crafted stories. Today, we have spellcasters, image-makers motivated not by  our children’s betterment, but by their own profit. Rife with the agenda of an ever-increasing bottom line, they care not for how our children are shaped or what kind of men and women they become, as long as they mint lifelong consumers for their products and entertainment outlets.

Couldn’t we do better? Couldn’t we individually and collectively find and offer stories to our young people that guided and instructed them in what it means to be a fully expressed human being living in cooperation with others and the planet? Couldn’t we learn to say no to the images that distort and distract? Couldn’t we learn to be “that parent”, the one who makes the difficult choice even when others around us are saying yes? Couldn’t we?

(For support on this topic, check out The Center for Media and Child Health at http://cmch.tv/)

There are now four drivers in our family sharing two cars. Most of the time it works. But some of the time, someone is disgruntled over not getting what they want, when they want it. In between there is negotiation and compromise, the need to prioritize and to be organized. And while at times I have someone snarling, maybe a husband or a kid, I would not change a thing. Why? Because it is not good for anyone, our kids especially, to get what they want whenever they want it.

We live in a time where the learned skill of sharing and compromising is fast moving towards extinction. With the advent of personal devices and cell phones, there is less and less need to wait or to be “inconvenienced.” There is no waiting for your turn to use the phone. No negotiation necessary when someone else is having what they consider to be an epic phone conversation while you wait, fuming, due to the delay of the important and epic conversation you are waiting to have. There is no need to compromise on a movie choice as everyone can go off to their own corners and watch, alone, exactly what it is that they wanted to watch. No need to learn patience, an open mind or turn taking here. No need for the demands of a shared experience. Who needs that? And as for music, well, no need here either. Just pop in your ear buds connected to your favorite playlists and off you go. No messy conversations or negotiations around people’s different tastes in music. No need to learn about another person’s point of view or get introduced to something you would not have gotten into on your own. Who needs that difficulty? This is so much easier. So much better.

Up until last year, four of us shared an Ipod. It began when my daughter was in fourth grade and she and I received it to share as a Christmas gift. In no time at all though the other two, husband and son, had also somehow claimed a share. We had to talk about things like who would have it at certain times and how much music anyone could put on, taking up the ever shrinking amount of sacred space. Was 178 Green Day songs really reasonable? Someone thought “Yes, absolutely!”, while another thought indignantly, “This is a misuse of the space!”

But beyond the squabbling, and in between the “I didn’t get what I wanted” and “How come he got it”, is a universe of absolutely required experience if you hope to live reasonably on the planet amongst other people. We must learn how to share and how especially to navigate when it seems as though you getting what you want is at the expense of what I want. And it needs to be built into the living of our lives so that it is in our children’s bones, as opposed to some syrupy platitude that we roll out about the importance of sharing and compromise with no real effort required by anyone. This inability to navigate competing needs is at the heart of every single war and piece of terrorism we suffer through. And while we may not be able to weigh in much on the world stage, we as the adults can absolutely weigh in on the day to day around how many things and experiences we give to our children and the ways in which they either teach them that they can have what they want whenever they want it, or that we can all get what we want, eventually, with a little effort and some good will. And that perhaps, most importantly, the waiting and the compromise is of equal to and sometimes of greater importance than the getting.

As our children grow more and more accustomed to screen mediated relationships and experiences, we as the adults owe it to them to model what it really takes to be in a mutually satisfying relationship with other people; which by its nature requires sharing and compromise. What a lonely and cruel existence their lives will be without the need or the ability to traverse the challenges of being in relationship in a healthy and life sustaining way.

This past weekend, our farm hosted an herbal workshop. We spent the whole day outside identifying trees; learning about their medicinal properties and how to make medicine from them. We touched, smelled and tasted. We sat in the habitats that support the trees, learning about the plants that coexist with them. And while we sat in a field overlooking all of this, we learned even more from a woman I have grown to love and respect. Because of her plant knowledge, her feel for the natural world, her earthy and honest nature, she inspires me to want to learn and live this knowledge. She helps me to stretch myself not just intellectually, but in all ways.

Sure, I could have looked up everything we did on the Internet. This is certainly a common approach these days when we want to “learn” something. But I know much would have been lost. The “big picture” thinking, for instance, that she generated around bioregionalism would have been missing, along with all the questions that got generated from a diverse group of participants. Gone missing would have been the opportunity to engage all of our senses, which took the learning even deeper. Absent would have been what her own experience, sensibilities and enthusiasm brought to the table. I could argue that if you are looking purely for information, perhaps the Internet approach would suffice. I would wager, though, that in many applications something, perhaps many things, are being lost.

Take for instance what happened late in the day. As we sat around at lunch, while she made tea from Hemlock, one of the students noticed a branch was infested by the woolly adelgid, a tiny beetle from Asia that is wiping out the Hemlock population in our area. I could have gotten this piece of information off the Internet. But what happened next never could have been delivered by a machine. This typically light, easy-going woman got as somber as I have ever experienced her. It was palpable. It changed everything in those moments in a way that was beyond words and beyond reading information off a screen. I felt the seriousness of this disease and its impact on the forest through my contact with her. It changed me.

I am so worried about what is being lost for the up and coming generations who are receiving so much of their “education” via the screen. One of the great overlooked and unintended consequences of technology’s impact on our children is how many things are going missing from their lives. Regularly. Things like being engaged with all of their senses, along with the chance to know the world through more than just the lens of rational thinking. Or how about all of the the fragmented and of questionable value information dumps they receive daily, devoid of the credibility and big picture thinking that only a living being can offer another. And perhaps worst of all is the growing disregard for anything from the past, which includes teachers, elders and all of their accumulated wisdom. In the age of prometheum boards and virtual learning, where the role of the teacher is being reduced to downloader and button pusher, will the encounters with a machine convey the depth of feeling that can only come from another human being and their relationship to the material? Once these things are gone, will these generations even know to look for them or to miss  them?

Nothing other than the presence of this woman and her accumulated wisdom could have so impacted me the way that it did. Who and what are we leaving in the position of stretching, inspiring, calling forward and calling to action our younger generations? The machines…?

(Inspired by Jade)

My brother Patrick died of AIDS right before his 30th birthday. In the aftermath, I came upon a profound truth; our lives are comprised of reminders and distractions. Reminders being those things that help us to remember what is most important to us. Distractions being those things that divert our attention from what matters most.

These days we seem to be on an accelerated course of distraction as we play with and marvel at all the new “opportunities” we have via the screen technologies. This is nowhere more evident than with our children where the technologies offer continual and seemingly infinite avenues of distraction from their bodies, relationships, homework, time spent in nature, creative and reflective time, and on and on it goes. But how could they possibly know anything different given the way the grown-ups and the influences in their lives have made the technologies mean so much. And too often, too much.

In the work I do with families and college students around the impact of technology on their lives, I have literally amassed hundreds and hundreds of pages full of ideas, musings and suggestions. Indeed, I am regularly overwhelmed by the enormity of influence the screens are having on our homes and in our lives. However, when I cut through it all, it distills down to one essential question; “Do you know what matters most to you in all the world and are you living into that?” Knowing the answer to this is what provides us with the clarity and the protection we need to be in the presence of such powerful and pervasive distractions.

So, do you know what matters most to you? And while you may have an answer you would give in the tender and vulnerable moments of your life, are you actually living that, day to day? If someone followed you around day in and day out, noting what you did, how you spent your time, money and energy, what would they come up with? What would your kids say in an uncensored moment?

We teach our children the wrong thing when we teach them to live in a perpetual state of screen distraction. And, just like my brother, we will all die. The question then becomes; will we have lived and taught our children to live lives that mattered?