My youngest son, Oliver, is just four years old, and he’s already captivated by screens. It’s the interactive ones that draw him in the most: from playing Angry Birds on our Roku to engaging with dinosaur games on the television. Recently, he even discovered Snapchat, thanks to his babysitter, who thought it would be fun for him to take silly pictures with fun overlays. Now, he’s constantly trying to sneak my phone to create ridiculous snaps overflowing with emojis, sloths, and sparkly text. I indulge him in this, occasionally sharing “Oliver’s snap” with friends.
When I ask if he wants to send a snap to his babysitter, he eagerly agrees, even though he lacks the understanding of how to actually send it. Unlike him, my eight-year-old, Max, is starting to become aware of social media. His friends are beginning to explore platforms like Musical.ly, which allows kids to create lip-sync videos. Unfortunately, this also means that Max is exposed to a world that often feels overwhelming to me.
What if I allowed Max to have his own phone? An article I read mentioned a child who felt isolated in her class for being the only one without a smartphone. A Nielsen report from last February revealed that 45% of kids aged 10 to 12 own a mobile phone, and about 16% of them receive one by age eight. Max is already asking for his own phone, and I’m filled with dread.
While I’m not overly concerned about Facebook or Instagram, which may not engage him much, Snapchat is another story. A single comment from a peer could send him spiraling into self-doubt. Max is impressionable and has a family history of anxiety and depression, which makes me especially anxious as a mother. It feels like he needs to be protected from the harshness of the online world.
Then there’s Musical.ly, which might seem harmless at first glance. However, as one parent pointed out, think of it like dropping your child off at an unknown warehouse filled with strangers—some of them may be wonderful, but others could pose a threat. The content can be alarming; I’ve seen videos of young girls lip-syncing, which raises the question of parental oversight. Some clips even promote harmful ideologies, such as pro-anorexia sentiments, which I certainly don’t want Max to normalize.
More disturbing are videos that depict self-harm and suicidal thoughts. For a child like Max, who is already prone to depressive tendencies, exposure to such content could be catastrophic. The social media landscape is daunting for any parent, and it raises countless red flags.
I haven’t even touched on the risks of online predators, inappropriate content on platforms like YouTube, and the potential for bullying. The emotional toll of social media—like the pressure to garner likes or the feeling of inadequacy—is something I’m not ready for my kids to face.
My stance is clear: my children will receive smartphones only when they demonstrate the necessary maturity. For now, they can use basic cameras or flip phones. The digital landscape feels too unpredictable, and I want to shield them from its dangers for as long as possible. As parents, isn’t it our responsibility to protect our children from potential harm?
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In summary, the digital world poses significant risks for children today, especially when it comes to mental health and exposure to harmful content. Parents must remain vigilant and consider the maturity of their children before introducing them to smartphones and social media platforms.