Years ago, my husband and I took a mindfulness class. (This was before we had children, when we had time to take a mindfulness class.)

But one thing the instructor said has stayed with me to this day. She invited us to “replace judgment with curiosity.”  

At the time, we were newly married, working full time, and trying to figure out our “next steps” in life. This advice made so much sense: judgment reframed as curiosity would get us a heck of a lot farther in our conversations, relationships, and lives. Judgment puts people on the defensive. Curiosity invites understanding.

It resonated. 

I loved this quote so much I decided to have it engraved on a key chain for my husband, Ben. On the day I picked it up from the engravers, I was with my cousin. I showed it to her. She looked at it, looked up at me, paused, and then said: “Emily, you spelled ‘judgment’ and ‘curiosity’ wrong.”

Readers: I was mortified. Not only do I hate making mistakes, but I was literally a 7th grade English teacher at the time. How embarrassing!

But then I stopped. And had an a-ha moment: I could replace judgment with curiosity. I could wonder why “judgment” and “curiosity” are such tricky words to spell. I could reframe judgment of myself and my imperfections and replace it with humor. I could even share this story with my students as an example that even adults make mistakes and can learn from them. 

So I didn’t change the engraving; I gave it to my husband exactly as it was, as an example of my own imperfections and the belief that I’m still a good person, even when I make mistakes, and even though this happened almost 20 years ago, I still tell this story at the start of all my talks. Today, I’m glad I made those spelling errors. 

After I became a parent, I was shocked: Parenting has been the judgiest sport I’ve ever played (another joke I make during my presentations). But it’s true. Do you co-sleep or sleep train? Do you bottle-feed or nurse? Do you use cloth diapers? And that’s just the first six months of parenting!

And it seems that nothing in modern parenting is more fraught with judgment, controversy, and strong opinions than how you let (or don’t let) your child use screens– “You let your kid watch THAT show?”, “My kid learned to read from an app!”, “You don’t let your child watch anything?”, “My daughter won’t have a phone until she’s 20!”, and so on.

If you’ve been judged by other parents about your parenting around screentime, welcome to the club. It’s a pretty large membership. And if you’ve judged yourself about your parenting and screentime decisions, also welcome to the club. And if your kids have thrown a sharp retort your way in that one moment you had to just check something on your phone about how “you are the worst parent” and “you are such a hypocrite” and “all you do is look at your phone,” you’re definitely not alone.

Truly– you are not alone. 

This modern parenting experience of having to simultaneously fend off predators and Big Tech marketing and gaming addiction and tricky algorithms and monitoring screen use in addition to mentoring and teaching our kids and getting them to do homework on a Chromebook but not get distracted by YouTube while also trying to be a role model for intentional tech is really and truly ridiculous. 

I feel your pain. 

And I am going to challenge you. Because while this modern parenting insanity isn’t our fault; it is our responsibility.  

This week, a parent sent me a photo of his first grader’s essay. The writing prompt was “What is one thing grown ups should stop doing?” 

This was the child’s reply (original spelling preserved):

“In my opinion one thing I think gron ups should stop dowing is gouing on their phon. First it’s annoying. Next it’s bad. Then I hate it. I hate it. Fainally I think it’s bad.”

Translation: In my opinion one thing I think grown-ups should stop doing is going on their phone. First it's annoying. Next it's bad. Then I hate it. I hate it. Finally I think it's bad.

Oof. As a parent, that’s tough to read. I’m grateful that this parent felt comfortable sending this to me and giving me permission to share it, because I believe that this is an essay most of our children could or would write today, and parents, these words are an invitation to us.

Here’s our chance: Replace judgment with curiosity. 

Move past the judgment about what you’re doing on your phone or why your child is likely exaggerating about how much you look at it. It doesn’t matter, and it doesn’t serve you or your children. 

Move into the curiosity; use the phrase “I wonder.” 

I wonder why my phone has so much power over me. 

I wonder how I would feel not having it nearby. 

I wonder what my child thinks when he looks at the back of my phone and watches my face reacting to or responding to something he cannot see. 

I wonder if this is the way I want my child to view me. 

I wonder if I can talk to him about how this is hard for me too. 

I wonder if I can change how I use my phone, especially around her.

It’s really important to know that our modern day technologies– smartphones, computers, artificial intelligence– are no longer just tools; they are social actors. They are attention-machines. They are engineered to change our behavior or direct our thinking or influence our choices. It’s no wonder that adults struggle to manage their own personal phone use, and it is even less of a surprise that our children are noticing.

Because in the middle of all this children are watching and learning. 

I don’t believe in ending my essays with a gut punch. I’m hopeful that the words of a seven-year-old have landed the way they need to without too much editorializing.

But I will leave you with a stepping stone towards change:

Tech-intentional™ parenting starts with addressing our own use of screens, and the best way to do that is by living our life out loud. It’s something I’ve written about previously and mention in all of my presentations, and the good news is that you can start it as soon as you finish reading this essay.

“Living your life out loud” is simply narrating what you do as you do it, any time you are reaching for or using a screen. In doing so, you are bringing awareness to your own habits, you are modeling how you use technology in a variety of ways, and you can even start to share how your device pulls you in and can be hard to put down– showing your children that yes, even adults struggle with this.

There isn’t an easy, quick-fix solution to the “screentime” challenge facing modern parenting. But there are ways we can become more intentional about how we use our devices (and not let them use us), and as a result, we become more aware of the impact that our device use has on our children. 

When we know better, we do better.

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