Foreword
As the author’s daughter, I’ve been living with tech-wise parenting for sixteen years. Some might say my older brother, who’s had it for nineteen years, would be even better qualified to write this foreword. I, however, would argue that as test subject number two, I’ve enjoyed an even more refined approach. So if you are wondering how tech-wise parenting actually works out, I might be able to help you.
I think the best part of tech-wise parenting, for me, has been its focus on “something older and better than the newest thing.” The key word is better. Tech-wise parenting isn’t simply intended to eliminate technology but to put better things in its place. Technology promises that it can provide wonder. Take a picture with the proper filters and you’ll be awestruck—it will look better than real life! But this promise is deceptive. My iPhone’s wonder generators, from Instagram to Temple Run, turn out to be only distractions from the things that really spark wonder. Thanks to tech-wise parenting, I’ve discovered a world out there that is better than anything technology can offer—as close as our front lawn.
I’ll be honest, though. If you’re hoping that being tech wise will neatly eliminate technology’s harmful influences from your children’s lives, you’re set up for disappointment. I haven’t been totally able to escape its pitfalls. I probably have a healthier relationship with technology than some of my peers, but I still have problems—aimlessly scrolling through websites and apps even when I need to do important things (such as sleep, eat, do homework, or make cookies). And having a comparatively healthy relationship isn’t much of an accomplishment, given what I’m comparing it to. I’ll probably be figuring out how to balance technology and productivity through my whole adult life, and I doubt even the most tech-wise parenting could prevent that.
Tech-wise parenting has added wonder to my life, though, and that’s enough. The real world is so fantastic that getting a taste of it makes even the most jaded kid want more. Not only have I always known that wonder is out there; I’ve been taught how to search for it. No multitude of glowing rectangles will ever be able to replace a single bumblebee. And that’s the real legacy of tech-wise parenting for me. It has shown me where to look for what I need most. Wonder comes from opening your eyes wider, not bringing the screen closer.
If you’re worrying that not having a TV will wreak havoc on your child’s life, don’t worry. Well, maybe it will wreak havoc, but it’ll be the good kind. I did end up drawing on the bathroom wall with neon green crayons meant only for the tub, but I also learned to paint tiny watercolors (we still have them in the tiny boxes violin rosin comes in), wrote songs about cows in the car (Mom still has the recording), and came up with stories about umbrella-fencing matches (I thought that was a brilliant idea as a kid and still hope to sneak an umbrella-fencing scene into a movie someday).
OK, my parents’ approach to parenting has caused a certain amount of havoc and even difficulty. But since that’s not the best way to persuade you to buy the book, call it flourishing instead. Tech-wise parenting welcomes the mud, the crayon drawings on the wall, and the arguments, because it takes some messiness to flourish. After all, the creativity that makes a kid think the wall is her canvas also encourages her to sing cow songs—and to learn the violin.