The other night, my ten-year-old son and I were having a discussion about technology. Specifically, how it seems like many of the kids in our neighborhood and in his last class at school have things he doesn’t have — namely a phone.
Ryan is ten years old. I take him to school and pick him up each day. He doesn’t travel anywhere without an adult. There is no need for a phone. (We did give him an iPod Touch for his 10th birthday).
I asked Ryan who he would call if he had a phone. He listed me, my husband, and my parents. I asked him if he needed a phone, and he told me no.
Then he asked me how old I was when I got my first cell phone. I told him — I was in college, commuting on six buses a day, a roundtrip travel time of 3 1/2 to 4 hours each day. My parents gave me a cell phone that looked like a brick. With it came strict instructions not to use the phone unless, heaven forbid, there was a real emergency. Otherwise, always keep some quarters in my backpack, and use a pay phone when needed. (I never used that phone).
That is not the world in which my son is growing up.
And that got me thinking about a post I wrote for MomsLA back in 2013. Click here to read “6 Ways My Son’s Childhood Is Different Than Mine.”