This commentary is by AM Derrendinger, of Middletown Springs. She is in 9th grade and is a writer.

“It’s here to stay,” people declare, and shrug their shoulders defeatedly. “We live in a digital world, and today’s kids are digital natives. They need to learn how to survive an AI driven future.”
Most leave it at that, convinced of the same lies that Big Tech has successfully sold us for years. How hard the tech giants must be laughing, some of whom reportedly would never let their own kids near the products they make: smart devices, social media, video games, the lot!
They know how unnecessary – and detrimental – such products are to children’s successful development. Yet they have little to fear when it comes to accountability. Mark Zuckerberg’s social media products have been linked by some to thousands of teen users who have lost their lives within recent years, and many adults respond by saying, “Our kids need to learn how to use Instagram responsibly.”
That terrifies me.
As a 14-year-old without a smart device, social media or video games, I’ve watched as my peers are promised optimal social connection and the joyride of their lives as they’re handed their first smartphones and social media accounts. I then see youth isolation and depression skyrocket, academic performance plummet and the child become addicted. Their flowering promise wilts, and their caregiver knows no better until it’s too late. It’s a tragic tale, which keeps happening again and again.
It doesn’t have to be this way. Where are the adults who are supposed to say “no” to health- harming products that have been killing children under their noses for more than a decade? I, the adolescent, shouldn’t have to spread awareness. I shouldn’t have to write this op-ed pleading with parents, educators, legislators and every other responsible community member to wake up.
Yet here I am, spelling out how all those kids became connected to drug dealers by Snapchat (and died), mimicked self- strangulation TikTok videos (and died) and were led to predators and sex traffickers on Instagram (and also died). They were just like your kid.
They are that one sitting on her smartphone on the sofa over there. A naturally curious, loved, cherished kiddo, prone to making mistakes for which she doesn’t deserve to die. I’m referring to kids who were healthy, happy prior to depression and no less loved. They didn’t deserve addiction and the garbage social media algorithms threw at them to make the tech billionaires richer. It’s atrociously unjustifiable, and no kid deserves it.
But as long as they have that smartphone in their hand – with or without parental controls – some risk is still there.
I’m actually not here to shame and blame. Why should I, if you know no better? I’m here because I’m afraid for my peers who’ve been dropped in shark-infested waters with no way of getting themselves out.
Every kid deserves better. Still, only a precious few adults seem to accept why giving a teen the latest version of the iPhone is a poor idea.
Lawmakers, it would significantly help parents to have an age 18 minimum law on social media use. Start treating social media like cigarettes and every other addictive product on the market.
Parents, you have the authority to remove what’s essentially a drug. You owe it to your child to do so. The prospect may be scary: denying any addict their drug is formidable. But difficulty has never been an excuse to ignore convalescence. And when caregivers begin to act based on fear of their child’s backlash, they’re not putting the child’s best interests first.
But why let a child experiment with a drug at all? Trust me as a teen with no social media or video games: I’m not left out of anything worth my time, and my health isn’t being risked to “fit in.” I have a perfectly functional landline.
Children don’t need smart devices. Children need childhood, crucial elements of which are eliminated when they’re given digital products that are addictive by design.
My peers need you to say “no” to these products, like you would to drugs and alcohol. We need to be able to trust that you’ll keep us from harm. But how can we, while one of the most addictive products on the market is what you’ve put under the Christmas tree for your 14-year-old? How can we, while you almost consistently choose satisfying children’s desires over caring for them responsibly?
But you can make change. Minors need you to, because the movement we have already isn’t enough.
We need you to say “no.” The alternative price is your child.
