Originally published by EdSource
In my fourth-grade classroom, I have watched 9- and 10-year-olds click through “personalized” lessons that had nothing to do with what I was teaching. They had figured out, the way kids do, that if they clicked at the right intervals, they would fulfill their i-Ready minutes — which had become required in practice — without much thought. Then, I wouldn’t be on them to finish, my principal wouldn’t be on me, and so on up the chain of command.
Eyes glazed. Minutes passed. Box checked. Rinse and repeat.
That scene is one symptom of a broader frustration. Parents and educators have watched screens take over more of the school day, whether through usage targets like weekly i-Ready minutes, kids drifting onto YouTube when they finish early, or learning games that are more game than learning. The frustration is real.
So this spring, Los Angeles Unified School District (LAUSD) is responding with strict screen-time limits, a familiar approach many families use at home. The proposed policy would sharply restrict screen use in elementary classrooms, including a daily cap of 20 minutes in second and third grade, and 30 minutes in fourth and fifth grade. While this might be an effective tactic to get children off Roblox after dinner, applying this strategy in the classroom is misguided at best and pedagogically reckless at worst. If adopted, this policy will harm the students it claims to protect and undermine the teachers expected to carry it out.
While I understand the impulse, limiting screen time by the clock mistakes the symptoms for the disease. Much of the research alarming families and educators focuses on recreational screen use at home. That work is worth taking seriously, but linking recreational and educational device use is a false equivalence. Doomscrolling on TikTok and typing an essay are both forms of “screen time” in the same way 3D glasses and prescription lenses are both eyewear.
Supporters of this proposal will point out, fairly, that there is research on classroom screen use as well. A 2022 study of American fourth and eighth graders found that more time on devices in language arts class predicted lower reading scores, even after accounting for income, disability, teacher experience, and other factors — a sobering finding, yes, but citing it alone is cherry-picking.
That same study found that what students did on devices made all the difference. When students used them for drill-and-practice activities, scores dropped. When students used devices for activities like authentic projects and evidence gathering, scores rose.
As I would tell my fourth graders, put a star by that last sentence.
The harm does not come from the screen or the time spent on it. The harm comes from the kind of work the screen is used for. To a clock, 30 minutes of mindless drilling and 30 minutes of genuine research are the same 30 minutes. For us teachers, knowing the difference is the job.
Used effectively, digital tools enable students to revise work efficiently, collaborate productively, access challenging material and identify reliable online sources. Those uses should not be treated like clicking through a gamified lesson or opening Minecraft.
The proposal also carelessly ignores the digital divide. Children from under-resourced communities often arrive with less practice using digital tools fluently and critically than their wealthier peers. School is one of the few places where that gap can be closed. This proposed policy risks leaving already disadvantaged students underprepared for our digitized world.
LAUSD’s own Digital Futures Guide says technology should create “real-time, real-world learning experiences” that are authentic, relevant, inclusive and aligned with future learning and work. I wholeheartedly agree. But the answer to screen-time waste is not a screen-time limit. If the district wants that vision to mean anything, it should curb passive entertainment and low-value drill activities, protect teacher discretion, and remove incentives that turn digital tools into box-checking exercises.
I have watched students waste time on screens. I have also watched them use those same devices to act on meaningful feedback, build persuasive arguments, revise their writing and find answers to fascinating questions. A strict usage limit punishes both kinds of screen time equally.
Supporters may hope a cap forces better choices. More likely, meaningful digital work will lose out to whatever is easiest to justify, and screen time becomes another compliance fight.
Families of nearly half a million students count on LAUSD to prepare their children for the world they actually live in. This policy does not do that. It gets in the way of the teachers who do. The board must vote it down and start over.
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Dylan Elliott is a fourth grade teacher in the Los Angeles Unified School District and a doctoral student in curriculum and instruction at the University of Virginia. The views expressed are his own.
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