My husband and I were talking the other day about technology. This is by no means a new topic in our household, as it is not only what pays our bills, (Steve is a sales rep at AT&T) but also a great passion of my husband's. However, the discussion now was focused on the impact of technology on children today.
We were going from hardware store to hardware store, looking for new outdoor trashcans. It's always the conversations that flow during the time when we run errands that reminds me of the reason I first fell in love with him, regardless of our topic. We may be two kids in our mid 20s that have bitten off more than we can chew at times, but we are also two intelligent people who have some definite opinions and what I believe to be some solid grounding when it comes to worldview. Interesting subjects may arise during every day discussion, and we enjoy debating them. I've always valued intellectual banter.
On this topic, we are united: the generation before us simply doesn't understand the generation that we are currently raising. I constantly hear criticism over how children (often spoken loudly in my presence, while my son plays on his iPad) need to be taught how to play outside "the old fashioned way" with dirt and sunshine. What bothers me about this is that they don't know me or my kid.
Johnny does go outside and play without technology. I think there is immense value in the ability to connect with nature and appreciate the world around you, just as God made it. I spent most of my childhood playing in the neighborhood: climbing trees, building forts, riding bikes, spinning in an upright hammock that hung from a huge oak in my backyard. I went for hikes up the mountain, swam in the lake, (that I had some serious issues with, but we can get back to that another time) went kayaking, fishing, horseback riding and camping. I spent an entire summer in middle school sleeping in a tent in my back yard, because I was "that kid". Kids with Aspergers fixate, and for that summer, that was part of my obsession. My son will be raised with a healthy dose of the outdoors, whether or not he (or his daddy) likes it. Luckily, he was thrilled with his first camping experience at the end of last summer.
What Johnny doesn't do is handle some aspects of the outdoors well. They are the same things he doesn't do well with indoors, but they seem to be more prevalent outside. Johnny has sensory processing problems. This means that he has a hard time with some textures, sounds, and on some occasions, light. When you are outside, these things are much harder to control. Grass, sand, mud. A sudden loud bird, all of the unique sounds associated with a pending storm, the buzz of a wasp. The sun -- especially when sitting under a tree and having the shade/sun exposure shifted as wind moves the branches. These aren't things I want to shield him from entirely, but I don't want to throw him into the deep end of the pool either. Technology that exists today (that didn't when I was a child) allows us to slowly desensitize him so that the shock and overreaction that he currently has isn't so severe. Recorded sounds and flashlights are wonderful tools. -- And this is just one area in which his sensory processing problems effect his everyday life.
So you can't tell me that handing technology to a kid keeps them from being able to enjoy the great outdoors. The problem is often with the parents. As with everything in life, a balance must be found. And all of this judgment is usually heaped on with a big assumption that my kid is playing video games non-stop. Most people have never seen iPad apps for toddlers and preschoolers. This isn't the same thing as sticking your kid in front of the TV and claiming you're teaching him Spanish because he is watching Diego.
Let me start by introducing you to an app I bought for my son a while back. This is LetterSchool.
I am not in the least bit exaggerating when I tell you that within practically two hours of playing with it, he was actually writing the entire alphabet on his own, on paper. We bought it one evening about a half hour before bed time, and the next morning he was refusing to get on the bus for school, he was too excited about the letters he was writing and he didn't want to stop. I had to promise to call his teacher and make sure he could start "drawing letters" as soon as he got off the bus on the other end. This was all a few months after he turned 3.
Before we bought LetterSchool, we hadn't really started to work with him on writing more than just "Johnny". Even at that, we weren't pushing very hard. Suddenly every waking moment was consumed with letters! He had known his alphabet since before he could talk. Anytime you asked him where an "a" was, he could point to one for you. He had started reciting the ABCs after he began talking. Now it was all about writing them. When he wanted to write a message, he would have someone spell it out on a piece of paper and then he would copy it onto his own. The intense need to do it all the time has died down since, but it is still something he does on a fairly regular basis. And just because he knows how to write now doesn't mean that he doesn't still play with the app and practice. His handwriting continues to improve every day.
My child learned to write for $2.99.
There are other excellent writing apps, (this was just my favorite -- by far!) as well as many other topics including reading, art and several kinds of math. While you have basic 1+1 = 2 preschool apps, people have a serious inability to take into account the math involved in Angry Birds. I'm not kidding. There is a reason people become obsessed with this kind of game, and it isn't just because there is an abundance of cuddly plushes you can buy at Walmart to match. They are a puzzle and a brainteaser just as much as Sudoku or the crosswords. Think about what the game of golf requires in terms of calculations. Now narrow the physical aspect of that down to the simple movement of a finger across a touch-screen, and you have Angry Birds. You may not have the green and the weather or the slope of the ground to factor in when taking your swing, and you entirely eliminate the aspects involving your physical stance, exhaustion, and the club altogether. What you are left with is a trajectory game: one that becomes increasingly difficult through the addition of obstacles (and eventually new laws of gravity) and beatable through the use of an array of predetermined tools. Math, my friends. Math. And for an individual as visual as my son, that kind of math is a wonderful stimulant for the brain.
I won't even continue to detail the individual apps that have helped my son grow and learn as time has passed. Suffice it to say that the Christmas before we got him his iPad, he wasn't talking. It was purchased second-hand for $50, by the way, for all of those "OH-MY-GOSH-YOU-SPENT-HOW-MUCH-MONEY-ON-A-TOY-FOR-A-TODDLER?!" people out there. Both Steve and I would gladly pay full-price and more, knowing now how much it has done for him. Within a month, he was speaking full sentences. It has been an invaluable learning tool for our son, and we both know it will continue to be. For a child who struggles with aspects of social interaction, it has been and continues to be a huge help. All of this talk about kids being lost to such things because they get sucked in by their tech gadgets? That may be true of some children, but it isn't true of all of them. And if that is true of your child, maybe you need to reassess your parenting choices. Especially when it comes to children with special needs in their life, technology can be an incredible tool.
One last (slightly long) note: I know Johnny isn't old enough for it to apply yet, but there is always the debate about texting versus a face-to-face conversation. I agree that nothing should ever take the place of human interaction. What some people need to take into account is that there are going to be some people with either extreme social anxiety issues or those with Aspergers (like myself) who simply can't read a social interaction. I'm not saying that this means that we shouldn't keep having one-on-one social exchanges as part of our daily lives, but it should be taken into account that texting as an aspect of communication, (or in my teenage days, instant messaging) can be a serious attempt at having "normal" social relationships. When all anyone ever takes into account is the 1 negative interaction (miscommunication that wouldn't have happened if the conversation hadn't been in typewritten format) and never the 99 other positive ones, what they often forget is the track record of the socially awkward person that it involves. My score face-to-face would have been more along the lines of 40% bad, so to me, that 1 blow-up in text or online was soooo much better than the additional 39 that would have happened in person. But what happens? Everyone just blames technology. I'm not saying that sometimes the overuse of technology isn't at fault -- some people rely on it far too much, but there is also something to be said about the positive outcome that no one ever seems to see. In the meantime, I've had that many more positive social interactions than normal! Because I don't have to worry about the game you all play where you say one thing and mean another behind your masks of false emotion where no one ever has the face on that says what they are really feeling. (It is subconscious I know, I'm not saying you're all out to get me -- but it is something all humans do). I don't have to spend an entire conversation also paying attention to every person in the room and how they are interacting with every other individual. The looks you each give one another and who is reacting in what way? Because that is what my life is like... a constant reconnaissance mission where I'm observing every single glance, every slight motion, trying to understand, and none of it ever makes any sense. When I'm texting, I'm just texting. If you say something you don't mean, I have no way of knowing-- but at least I'm not busy trying to take in a million things at the same time. Technology gives me a break. So people who knock it can either shut up, or take a hike in my shoes for a day.
We were going from hardware store to hardware store, looking for new outdoor trashcans. It's always the conversations that flow during the time when we run errands that reminds me of the reason I first fell in love with him, regardless of our topic. We may be two kids in our mid 20s that have bitten off more than we can chew at times, but we are also two intelligent people who have some definite opinions and what I believe to be some solid grounding when it comes to worldview. Interesting subjects may arise during every day discussion, and we enjoy debating them. I've always valued intellectual banter.
On this topic, we are united: the generation before us simply doesn't understand the generation that we are currently raising. I constantly hear criticism over how children (often spoken loudly in my presence, while my son plays on his iPad) need to be taught how to play outside "the old fashioned way" with dirt and sunshine. What bothers me about this is that they don't know me or my kid.
Johnny does go outside and play without technology. I think there is immense value in the ability to connect with nature and appreciate the world around you, just as God made it. I spent most of my childhood playing in the neighborhood: climbing trees, building forts, riding bikes, spinning in an upright hammock that hung from a huge oak in my backyard. I went for hikes up the mountain, swam in the lake, (that I had some serious issues with, but we can get back to that another time) went kayaking, fishing, horseback riding and camping. I spent an entire summer in middle school sleeping in a tent in my back yard, because I was "that kid". Kids with Aspergers fixate, and for that summer, that was part of my obsession. My son will be raised with a healthy dose of the outdoors, whether or not he (or his daddy) likes it. Luckily, he was thrilled with his first camping experience at the end of last summer.
What Johnny doesn't do is handle some aspects of the outdoors well. They are the same things he doesn't do well with indoors, but they seem to be more prevalent outside. Johnny has sensory processing problems. This means that he has a hard time with some textures, sounds, and on some occasions, light. When you are outside, these things are much harder to control. Grass, sand, mud. A sudden loud bird, all of the unique sounds associated with a pending storm, the buzz of a wasp. The sun -- especially when sitting under a tree and having the shade/sun exposure shifted as wind moves the branches. These aren't things I want to shield him from entirely, but I don't want to throw him into the deep end of the pool either. Technology that exists today (that didn't when I was a child) allows us to slowly desensitize him so that the shock and overreaction that he currently has isn't so severe. Recorded sounds and flashlights are wonderful tools. -- And this is just one area in which his sensory processing problems effect his everyday life.
So you can't tell me that handing technology to a kid keeps them from being able to enjoy the great outdoors. The problem is often with the parents. As with everything in life, a balance must be found. And all of this judgment is usually heaped on with a big assumption that my kid is playing video games non-stop. Most people have never seen iPad apps for toddlers and preschoolers. This isn't the same thing as sticking your kid in front of the TV and claiming you're teaching him Spanish because he is watching Diego.
Let me start by introducing you to an app I bought for my son a while back. This is LetterSchool.
I am not in the least bit exaggerating when I tell you that within practically two hours of playing with it, he was actually writing the entire alphabet on his own, on paper. We bought it one evening about a half hour before bed time, and the next morning he was refusing to get on the bus for school, he was too excited about the letters he was writing and he didn't want to stop. I had to promise to call his teacher and make sure he could start "drawing letters" as soon as he got off the bus on the other end. This was all a few months after he turned 3.
Before we bought LetterSchool, we hadn't really started to work with him on writing more than just "Johnny". Even at that, we weren't pushing very hard. Suddenly every waking moment was consumed with letters! He had known his alphabet since before he could talk. Anytime you asked him where an "a" was, he could point to one for you. He had started reciting the ABCs after he began talking. Now it was all about writing them. When he wanted to write a message, he would have someone spell it out on a piece of paper and then he would copy it onto his own. The intense need to do it all the time has died down since, but it is still something he does on a fairly regular basis. And just because he knows how to write now doesn't mean that he doesn't still play with the app and practice. His handwriting continues to improve every day.
My child learned to write for $2.99.
There are other excellent writing apps, (this was just my favorite -- by far!) as well as many other topics including reading, art and several kinds of math. While you have basic 1+1 = 2 preschool apps, people have a serious inability to take into account the math involved in Angry Birds. I'm not kidding. There is a reason people become obsessed with this kind of game, and it isn't just because there is an abundance of cuddly plushes you can buy at Walmart to match. They are a puzzle and a brainteaser just as much as Sudoku or the crosswords. Think about what the game of golf requires in terms of calculations. Now narrow the physical aspect of that down to the simple movement of a finger across a touch-screen, and you have Angry Birds. You may not have the green and the weather or the slope of the ground to factor in when taking your swing, and you entirely eliminate the aspects involving your physical stance, exhaustion, and the club altogether. What you are left with is a trajectory game: one that becomes increasingly difficult through the addition of obstacles (and eventually new laws of gravity) and beatable through the use of an array of predetermined tools. Math, my friends. Math. And for an individual as visual as my son, that kind of math is a wonderful stimulant for the brain.
I won't even continue to detail the individual apps that have helped my son grow and learn as time has passed. Suffice it to say that the Christmas before we got him his iPad, he wasn't talking. It was purchased second-hand for $50, by the way, for all of those "OH-MY-GOSH-YOU-SPENT-HOW-MUCH-MONEY-ON-A-TOY-FOR-A-TODDLER?!" people out there. Both Steve and I would gladly pay full-price and more, knowing now how much it has done for him. Within a month, he was speaking full sentences. It has been an invaluable learning tool for our son, and we both know it will continue to be. For a child who struggles with aspects of social interaction, it has been and continues to be a huge help. All of this talk about kids being lost to such things because they get sucked in by their tech gadgets? That may be true of some children, but it isn't true of all of them. And if that is true of your child, maybe you need to reassess your parenting choices. Especially when it comes to children with special needs in their life, technology can be an incredible tool.
One last (slightly long) note: I know Johnny isn't old enough for it to apply yet, but there is always the debate about texting versus a face-to-face conversation. I agree that nothing should ever take the place of human interaction. What some people need to take into account is that there are going to be some people with either extreme social anxiety issues or those with Aspergers (like myself) who simply can't read a social interaction. I'm not saying that this means that we shouldn't keep having one-on-one social exchanges as part of our daily lives, but it should be taken into account that texting as an aspect of communication, (or in my teenage days, instant messaging) can be a serious attempt at having "normal" social relationships. When all anyone ever takes into account is the 1 negative interaction (miscommunication that wouldn't have happened if the conversation hadn't been in typewritten format) and never the 99 other positive ones, what they often forget is the track record of the socially awkward person that it involves. My score face-to-face would have been more along the lines of 40% bad, so to me, that 1 blow-up in text or online was soooo much better than the additional 39 that would have happened in person. But what happens? Everyone just blames technology. I'm not saying that sometimes the overuse of technology isn't at fault -- some people rely on it far too much, but there is also something to be said about the positive outcome that no one ever seems to see. In the meantime, I've had that many more positive social interactions than normal! Because I don't have to worry about the game you all play where you say one thing and mean another behind your masks of false emotion where no one ever has the face on that says what they are really feeling. (It is subconscious I know, I'm not saying you're all out to get me -- but it is something all humans do). I don't have to spend an entire conversation also paying attention to every person in the room and how they are interacting with every other individual. The looks you each give one another and who is reacting in what way? Because that is what my life is like... a constant reconnaissance mission where I'm observing every single glance, every slight motion, trying to understand, and none of it ever makes any sense. When I'm texting, I'm just texting. If you say something you don't mean, I have no way of knowing-- but at least I'm not busy trying to take in a million things at the same time. Technology gives me a break. So people who knock it can either shut up, or take a hike in my shoes for a day.
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