Save Children by Banning Snake Oil Tech

In a recent court appearance Mark Zuckerberg testified that there isn’t any research to substantiate claims that his “product” is addictive or harmful to kids. Yet, there’s a ton. And all of us in education shouldn’t just be taking note—we should be taking action.

Jonathan Haidt’s book, The Anxious Generation connects numerous studies proving screen time “rewires” children’s’ brain in dangerous ways. A recent 15 year study in Canada adds additional clarity: screen time is bad for kids.

Yet in every classroom I visit, screens have become a significant element of instruction.

To be clear, I’m not talking about using computers as “tools.”  Word processing, doing research, and communicating with families may indeed be appropriate uses. But, according to the research, programs that replace instruction are not.  As one recovering tech addict put it, they’re so chock full of artificial stimuli, real books can’t compete. Once indoctrinated in screen-based “learning,” students are unable to tolerate reading a paragraph in a text book or writing a sentence that doesn’t include an emoji. In short, they become non-readers.

Covid has been a convenient scapegoat for both low achievement and high anxiety, but if there’s one thing the pandemic taught us, it’s that screen-based learning didn’t work. Despite returning to regular school, test scores and suicide rates show that the nation’s children are not recovering from spending that year on screen-based programs. That’s because it wasn’t Covid that caused all the problems—it’s that we’ve doubled-down on screens, both at home and in school.

Today our school districts are spending gobs of money on snake oil tech ($30 billion in 2024). All that money spent on one-to-one devices and online programs such as Asselus and disLexia would be put to better use creating extra-curricular opportunities for kids, enhanced support staff scheduling, teacher salaries, improved prep time, or authentic reading instruction. Instead, the only real beneficiaries are the tech companies. Not school districts. Not teachers. And certainly not kids.

On top of the ginormous direct profits, Big Tech is also profiting from data mining.  Everything about you, your students, and your school is being stored on a server somewhere in the high desert of Central Oregon or the low valleys of Northern California and then sold to other companies that want a piece of your pie. Educators have long been concerned that their job security might someday hinge on student test scores, but imagine, too, a future where one of your former students applies for a job or fills out a college application or runs for political office only to have their low performance on an Aimslow or Zurn test way back in third grade sabotage their opportunity. (Yes, we purposely misspelled those to disparage the guilty!)

So what can we do? It’s time to reject screen-based learning. All of it. I know these programs can give overwhelmed teachers a bit of a break, but the studies show it’d be better to give your students time to simply draw, color, or read than to log in. Me, I’m making a commitment to stop relying on tech and I challenge you to do the same.

Because administrative initiatives almost always fail, a ban on screens needs to be organic. It needs to start with teachers rejecting tech and teachers encouraging parents to reject tech at home.  

Not convinced? Read Haidt’s book, The Anxious Generation, or Catherine Price’s book for teens and pre-teens, The Amazing Generation. Watch the 2024 documentary The Cost of Convenience. And share this article from Bloomberg about the Canadian study. Send these things to your board members and your open-minded admins. (In my school, we started seeing change merely by giving Haidt’s book to our principal.)

Here at ReadAloudPlays.com, we’re decommissioning our Google Forms products, the free comprehension quizzes that go with our reader’s theater. They offer a bit of convenience to teachers and they incentivize trying our play scripts, but because we believe our paper-based quizzes promote more authentic discussion, we’re moving on. We’re also making our own social media pages static.

Of course, we believe the best step any teacher can take is to utilize more “real” instruction—such as reader’s theater. In all the classrooms I visit these days, kids will almost always choose reader’s theater over screen-based activities. Visit our storefront at TpT to grab some exceptional play scripts, including our fun Chicken Little play panning social media.

Happy directing!

Banned Books, Banned Plays

Censorship always begins with good intentions.

Following the George Floyd protests, heightened concern about cultural sensitivity and traumatic events led TeachersPayTeachers to ban pretty much any reader’s theater or history lesson in which students were challenged to see the event through the eyes of a minority figure. Though well-intended (after all, it’s pretty obvious we shouldn’t be simulating slave auctions in class), TpT’s policy essentially silenced Ruby Bridges, Claudette Colvin, Sheyann Webb, MLK, and other heroes of the Civil Rights Movement. The basis behind the ban was that today’s children shouldn’t be forced to relive the verbal abuse Ruby experienced, or the emotional abuse felt by Sacagawea, or the violence Sheyann witnessed. Never mind that all good literature and historical accounts requires the reader to see it from such a perspective. For example, if Claudette Colvin’s story shouldn’t be shared via my play, “The Girl Who Got Arrested,” it also shouldn’t be shared using Phllip Hoose’s National Book Award-winning biography, Twice Toward Justice.

Yet it must be shared. It’s by seeing Claudette’s story through her eyes that it becomes more than just a blurb and a date in a history book. Claudette’s first-hand account is the primary source that makes the event relevant today.

When TpT deactivated all my plays, I sought help from a friend who serves as the director of the local university’s Center for Cultural Diversity, as well as from Dr. Geneva Craig, someone who actually experienced the tear gas in Selma. These are crazy times, they both lamented, but they helped me re-evaluate my content to make sure I was indeed being sensitive. I made a handful of subtle changes and then re-posted my plays on TpT.

Only to have them deactivated all over again.  

I tried re-posting them as JPEG sheets so that TpT’s content bots couldn’t recognize the text. I removed words like “drama” and “scripts” from my headings and changed “reader’s theater” to RT. To further disguise them, I rebranded them as “Paired Texts.” Nothing worked. TpT deactivated them every time. Ironically, it was during this time that The Palace Youth Theater in New Hampshire, with the help of its local BLM chapter, enacted two of the plays TpT had just banned.  

Fortunately, less-reactionary ideals have prevailed and the new ownership at TpT has since reversed the censorship. I suspect they recognize that educators have school district policies, parent input, and professional training to guide us as to the appropriateness of material. We don’t need TpT to do it for us.

Though I lost hundreds of favorable reviews and thousands of clicks, I’m pleased to say that all my civil rights and American history plays are back on TpT. But given the “crazy times” in which we live, I think it’s important for educators to consider how to appropriately use reader’s theater to teach marginalized voices and traumatic events. Here are a few tips:

Community – Consult with the cultural community associated with the events depicted, bringing in guest speakers where appropriate. If you have students from that particular marginalized culture, seek input from their families before introducing the play.

Sensitivity – Characters in a play should not do anything demeaning toward their culture. While every story—whether in a play format or otherwise—has to have conflict, violent acts should only be referenced by narrators or other characters rather than explicitly acted out. If unsure about how a scene plays out, change it. If you’re still unsure how the content will be received, consider using it only for a discussion-based classroom reading or podcast rather than enacting it “on stage.”

Casting – Don’t let race be the basis for casting parts. Dr. King said he dreamed of a day when we would all be “color blind.” A reader’s theater performance is a good place to practice it.

Policy – It’s important to check your school board’s policy before embarking on any content that might be controversial. Some districts restrict subject matter not explicitly identified within a given grade level’s standards.   

Paired Texts – It’s a good idea to pair reader’s theater content with professionally-published texts. For example, read Ruby Bridge’s book, Through My Eyes while working on the play, A Simple Act of Courage. Not only does the text serve as a vetting agent, it provides material to compare and contrast.

Discussion – No book, play, or video should stand alone. By discussing the content and events depicted, you facilitate understanding. Discussion should happen when introducing a play, while reading specific scenes, and after presenting. Utilizing expert guests enhances those discussions.

Repetition – One of the best reasons to use RT is that if there’s to be a presentation or performance, kids are willing to read plays repetitively. Even a simple reading in front of the class is enough to get kids to read and re-read a script multiple times. The brain science behind repetitive reading suggests students build their fluency at a far greater rate. It holds true with the students’ grasp on the historical events depicted and as well as their ability to empathize with marginalized voices.

Thank you for teaching Black history. Happy directing!