No, the Kids Are Not Alright

I have been wanting to write this for quite some time, but each time I start, I don’t know how to say it all. How do I say this in a way that isn’t obvious? How do I say this in a way that doesn’t make me sound like a crotchety old luddite? How do I add something new to this discussion that feels ubiquitous? I don’t know. And maybe whatever I write here won’t be new, or fresh, or useful, but nevertheless, I feel the need to talk about this.

The Kids are not Alright.

I know I’m not the only person to notice this. Since the world went into lockdown we’ve heard everyone around us say: “Think of the children!” It seems the impacts that we have all felt since the isolation has been borne ten fold on the younger among us.

I’m not writing this as a statistician, or mental health professional, I am writing this as a teacher, a parent, an observer of what is smacking us in the face.

This is where writing this gets difficult. Because it’s not just about Covid, or about isolation, it’s not mandates or lack of classroom time — there is something in the air. How do I describe that?

Kids are changing, and I know that makes me sound like a cranky old man, but hear me out. In my years of teaching, especially since Covid, I have noticed kids with personalities seemingly molded from memes, Youtube, and TikTok. I have watched as groups of kids say not a single original thought, but instead parrot quotes from memes, TikTok, and video games. Is this different from my incessant quoting of The Office? Shut up.

But there is a difference when a child spends an inordinate amount of time alone, staring at screens, the Pavlovian constant scroll on their phones. I didn’t get my first cell phone until I was 15, I couldn’t easily access the internet on my phone until well into college. Now I have 5th graders following me on TikTok. I also have 5th graders with severe mental health difficulties. Is there a connection?

The Mental Health Problem

Growing up, maybe I was oblivious to it all, but I never knew people with severe mental health difficulties. Granted, a lot of this has been normalized, the stigma decreased. Granted, I am privy to private information about my students. But I have had a not insignificant amount of students admitted to hospitalization programs in the last few years. I have students who have panic attacks at the prospect of coming to school. I try not to take this personally.

These students are connected in a way that I don’t think has ever happened before. Even the most apathetic students have some sense of what the world is. Students are watching the world through the filters and algorithms on their phones. I experience this too every time I scroll through TikTok, half of what I know about the protests in France I’ve learned from TikTok. They are made aware of every atrocity, hate crime, melted ice cap, school shooting, they are inundated with every incorrect thing. Is it a bad thing to be so in the know?

Last week I was speaking to a 7th grade student. They told me they always keep their phone on them. When I asked them why, they said, “In case there is a school shooting, I need to be able to have my phone.” I couldn’t argue. I worry about school shootings too, for every shooting I sigh, defeated, grieving, as if I’m awaiting the inevitable, constantly checking exit paths. Every student becomes a potential assailant, every student is someone I might one day have to shield. Is it a bad thing for students to know their school’s vulnerable points of entry?

I have students who hurt themselves. I have students who are entirely glib about the concept of suicide. There seems to be an underlying cynicism, a what’s-the-point type attitude. I see this in apathy, having a student write: “I lost motivation to finish this,” on an assignment, leaving the remainder blank. Some of this, I think, can be attributed to lowered expectations. There are no consequences for failing a class, turning an assignment in late, not coming to school. I have countless students who have missed large swaths of the year who will still promote to the next grade in the Fall. They have missed valuable foundational knowledge that will now follow them next year. If you are not here to learn how to write sentences in 5th grade, how will you write paragraphs in 6th? The students see that it doesn’t matter, they can do whatever they want. They’re gaming the system. Some of this, I think, can be attributed to the chaos that surrounds them. There is an indelible attitude of, “How can you expect me to do this reading when there are people starving in the streets?” More often though it’s: “How can you expect me to do this reading when I haven’t slept in days, but even when I do sleep I can’t stay awake, I feel like I’m being chased but there’s no one near me.”

As a teacher I sometimes know too much about my students. I wonder often if my teachers knew as much about me. There are some students who I celebrate, whether in my head or out loud, every time they appear in class. There are some students that I will applaud for keeping their head up in class, students I will cheer when they ask a question. Even small victories, to some, are huge. To some, it’s an incremental progress. They didn’t leave my class today. They weren’t sick today. I have had mile wide smiles at seeing the raised hands of students who are often comatose.

This is the part in writing this that I have to assure that I am not a bad teacher — I don’t think so anyway. Yes, sometimes I have students sleeping in class. But sometimes a student is so heavily medicated that by the end of the day they can’t keep their eyes open. Sometimes I have students who, when returning home, don’t have a quiet place, a safe space to lay their heads. Sometimes how I can support these students is to give them a soft place to land.

Sometimes, I admit, I don’t buy it. I have had students who have used diagnoses as a get-out-of-jail-free card. I have watched as students have manipulated teachers, enabled by overly-accommodating parents. “Oh, yes, they have a hard time getting to school in the morning, they have anxiety.” But then when they are in class they are mean to other students, they refuse to do anything themselves, instead copying the work of their peers, they are disruptive, they are unapologetic. They are discourteous, rude, often nasty towards their peers or staff. They know they have parents who will make excuses for their actions.

“Wow Bryan, that was quite a switch. So are you a soft place to land, or a grumpy hard-ass?”

Honestly, I’m still figuring out this balance. This will sound crude, but as adults we are often walking on egg shells, afraid of students, afraid of being the cause for some nervous breakdown, so we refuse to challenge them. We are hesitant to push anyone past their comfort zone. In many ways, we are enabling all of them. More than ever this year I have students who suffer from “school refusal,” this is a general term that means a student is too anxious to come to school. I have countless emails instructing me to excuse all missing assignments for students. What does this teach them? That we are rewarded for refusal? That if we make enough of a stink we won’t have to do anything unpleasant? What happens when they leave school and find that this doesn’t actually work in the real world?

You see now why this has been difficult to write about? In so many ways it’s hard not to write this like a “Kids these days!” complaint, and in many ways it’s hard not to write this like, “We are destroying our kids lives!” How do I do both?

We are Responsible For the World Our Children Live in

I felt I needed to include a heading here. Partially to break this up, and partially because it is an important point I need to drive home.

How can we blame these kids for the way they feel, for how they’re acting? Look at the world we’ve made for them. In our society, what is valued? Wealth, brutality, crudeness, superficiality, popularity. We deem value to mean wealth. So-called virtues like kindness, intelligence, compassion, patience, are not rewarded in our society. Why would a student act kindly towards someone when they see that they can gain more from being cruel? We destroy the world for the virtue of profit, accumulation. What do you expect from these kids, that they aren’t going to pick up on this? We tell them to be kind, and with valid reasons they respond: Why should I?

We have made it easier to devalue each other. We have made it anomalous to care.

I, and my generation, grew up alongside the Internet. This generation grew up inside it. They have been molded by what’s trending. They have the world at their fingertips, and they know how to access it better than we do. As much as we try to control this, try to monitor what they can see, what they can access, there’s always a way around our best efforts. I learned how to flirt on AIM, but these kids are learning how to think, how to act, the attitudes that receive the most clicks, follows. They’re picking up on what we’ve created, or rather destroyed, for them. Look at the “meme stash” of a 13 year old and become horrified. Who’s fault is this?

This is one of the more milder ones.

We have created a society where people can go bankrupt from medical debt, can go hungry next to a fast food restaurant, where lies are rewarded and honesty mocked. How can our kids honestly see this world as compassionate, or good, or kind? Of course there is despair.

My generation is the most educated generation in our history, and we’re also the first generation to be less financially stable than our parents. This next generation, what will they have left? They notice this, even without knowing it.

We talk about late-stage capitalism, often with derision, but what is the logical end point of this? Of endless accumulation, endless growth, profit? Sometimes the message we tell our kids, though implicit, is to either become hard or fall apart.

I know, this is why it’s hard to write about this. There is so much going on. How do I keep this from becoming a manifesto?

I am frustrated with my students, often. Apathy is high, and sometimes teaching can feel like talking to a brick wall. But when you zoom out, and try to look at things from the widest angles, it’s hard not to understand, to empathize. I wouldn’t want to be this generation either.

There is only so much teachers can do. I am worried about my students. I’m worried that they won’t get through the day, and I’m worried about what waits for them at the end of it all. I’m worried about what the world will be for them by the time they are in it, with both feet. What will still be left for them?

I wish I could say get rid of TikTok and all will be well, but it won’t be. The problems will continue to exist, even if we choose to ignore them. There’s no quick fix. There are systemic changes needed, prescriptions sometimes too big to swallow.

I made this.

The kids aren’t alright, but, let’s be honest, neither are we, and that, really, is the crux of it all. But I’m not writing a manifesto here.

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