Reflections from a Mental Health & Wellbeing Leader, Mum and Educator
– Charlotte Wilson
Before you scroll past…
I know this asks more of you than a 30 second video or a quick social media post. It’s a little longer than the average newsletter article, but I hope you’ll give me five minutes of your time.
As both a Mental Health and Wellbeing Leader and a mum, this is something I’ve been thinking deeply about for a long time. I felt it was important enough to put those thoughts into words, and I hope it gives you something to reflect on.
Technology is an incredible part of modern life. It allows us to learn, create, connect and access information in ways previous generations could never have imagined. Our children will grow up in a digital world, and that’s not something to fear.
What I do find myself thinking about, however, is whether their developing brains are truly ready for what today’s technology is asking of them.
I often find myself thinking about both the amount of time our children are spending on screens and the type of digital experiences they’re having. I completely understand how easily screens can become part of the daily routine. Many of us are juggling work, school, sport, dinner, washing and everything in between. Since COVID especially, devices have naturally become more woven into family life, and before we know it, an afternoon on a screen can become the default rather than the exception.
But while technology has changed rapidly over the years, children’s brains haven’t.
The reality is that children’s brains continue developing well into their twenties. The parts of the brain responsible for judgement, impulse control, emotional regulation, planning, perspective taking and decision making are some of the last to mature. Yet we’re handing children incredibly powerful technology and asking them to make decisions that even many adults struggle to make consistently.
For me, that’s where the conversation starts.
Young Brains in a Digital World
While every family and every child is different, the challenges technology presents often change as children grow.
In the younger and middle primary years, my biggest concern isn’t necessarily social media itself. It’s the mismatch between a young child’s developing brain and the enormous amount of content now available to them.
Young children are naturally curious and impulsive. They don’t yet have the judgement to distinguish fact from fiction, advertising from reality or safe from unsafe. They aren’t developmentally ready to process violent videos, frightening news stories, harmful online trends, age inappropriate content or conversations that were never intended for children. Sometimes, just one accidental click can expose a child to something confusing, upsetting or far beyond what they are developmentally ready to process.
Even when content appears “child friendly”, it’s worth remembering that not all content is equally helpful for developing brains.
Many children’s apps, games and short form videos are intentionally designed to be fast paced, brightly coloured and constantly changing. Before a child has had time to think about one thing, another appears.
The human brain is naturally wired to seek novelty. Every swipe, scroll and short video activates the brain’s reward system and releases dopamine, the neurotransmitter involved in motivation, anticipation and learning. Over time, the brain can begin to expect this constant stream of novelty, making slower activities such as reading, homework, imaginative play, conversations or simply sitting with boredom feel less rewarding by comparison.
It’s not that children have become lazy or unmotivated. Their brains are adapting to the environment they’re spending the most time in. Having worked with children in classrooms for more than 18 years, I can genuinely see many of these changes unfolding over time. Technology is certainly not the only factor contributing to what we’re seeing, but I believe it is an important part of the conversation.
Researchers continue to learn more about how highly stimulating digital content may influence attention, concentration, impulse control and executive functioning. Technology itself isn’t the problem, but many platforms are intentionally designed to keep us engaged for as long as possible.
The challenge is that we don’t always see the impact immediately. Children don’t often come to us and say, “That video frightened me,” or “That conversation made me anxious.” More often, they quietly absorb what they see. They begin comparing themselves to others, worrying about things that were never on their radar before, or slowly accepting messages that don’t reflect the values we hope to teach.
That doesn’t mean every child will be harmed, but it does mean they often need caring adults nearby to help them process, question and make sense of what they’ve encountered.
Just as we carefully consider what goes into our children’s lunchboxes because it helps build growing bodies, it’s worth being just as thoughtful about what goes into their growing minds.
As Friendships Move Online
As children move into the upper primary years, another challenge begins to emerge.
Peer conflict, conversations and friendships no longer finish when the school bell rings.
Years ago, if children had a disagreement in the playground, they went home. They had time to calm down, process what had happened, talk it through with Mum, Dad or another trusted adult, sleep on it and often return the next day with a completely different perspective.
Today, that pause often doesn’t exist.
A disagreement at lunchtime can continue through group chats until bedtime. Hurt feelings can snowball as more children join the conversation. Misunderstandings escalate quickly, and impulsive messages sent in the heat of the moment can have lasting consequences.
Perhaps one of the biggest shifts is that children now have the opportunity to share almost every thought the moment they have it.
But learning what to do with our thoughts is one of the most important developmental tasks of childhood.
Some thoughts drift through our minds like clouds and don’t need our attention.
Some are sticky thoughts that we can learn to notice without letting them take over.
Some simply need time to settle, like snowflakes.
Some are important enough to share with a trusted adult.
Some are helpful thoughts to act on, while others are not.
Children aren’t born knowing the difference. And let’s be honest, most adults still don’t!!
These are skills that develop gradually through thousands of everyday interactions with the adults around them. Through co regulation. Through reflection. Through experiences and sometimes even making mistakes in safe relationships.
As parents and educators, one of the greatest gifts we can give our children is helping them discover that there can be space between what happens to them and how they respond. We can model that pause. We can help them notice their thoughts and feelings without acting on every one of them. We can teach them that not every thought needs to be spoken, not every feeling needs an audience and not every message needs to be sent.
When every emotion can instantly become a text message, voice message or group chat conversation, children have fewer opportunities to practise this pause and ask themselves:
Is this true?
Is this helpful?
Is this kind?
Do I need to act on this right now?
Or do I simply need to talk it through with someone I trust?
Families and schools have an incredibly important role to play here. Together, we can help children learn the difference between reacting and responding, between seeking validation online and seeking support from someone who genuinely cares about them.
These aren’t just friendship skills.
They’re life skills.
The Safest Place in the House Has Changed
When many of us were growing up, shutting our bedroom door usually meant we were in one of the safest places we could be. The outside world stayed outside until we walked back out the front door the next day. Today, that’s no longer always the case.
With an internet connected device in a bedroom, friendships, peer pressure, distressing news, advertising, social media, inappropriate content and even strangers can all find their way into what was once our children’s safest space. None of it necessarily stops when they go to bed.
That’s why, wherever possible, I encourage internet connected devices to be used in shared family spaces rather than behind closed bedroom doors.
Not because we don’t trust our children, but because we understand they’re still learning. Children deserve caring adults nearby to answer questions, notice when something doesn’t seem right and help them make sense of what they’re seeing. The internet wasn’t designed with children in mind, so children shouldn’t have to navigate it alone.
It Isn’t Just About Our Children
If we’re honest, many of us have noticed these changes in ourselves too.
I catch myself reaching for my phone more than I’d like. I’ll instinctively pick it up while watching television or standing in a queue. Sometimes I find it harder than I used to sit down and read a long article without wanting to check a notification.
So, if you’ve made it this far, thank you.
Ironically, that probably says something in itself. Many of us, myself included, have become so accustomed to reels, short videos and bite-sized information that slowing down to read something longer can feel surprisingly difficult. That isn’t just affecting our children. It’s affecting us too.
I’m certainly not writing this from a place of having it all figured out. If adults with fully developed brains find these habits difficult to manage, it’s understandable that children do too.
At the moment we’re loving MasterChef. We’ll watch an episode together, choose a dish to recreate and have our own little family cooking competition. Then on Friday nights, we’ll all pile onto the couch for a family movie. Both have become less about the screen itself and more about what they create afterwards: cooking together, cuddling up, talking, laughing and simply spending time as a family.
For us, it isn’t about avoiding screens. It’s about making sure they’re adding to our family life rather than replacing it.
Living where we do on the Mornington Peninsula, we’re incredibly lucky. Even in winter there are beaches to explore, bush walks, parks and wide open spaces. Yes, it’s often easier to stay inside with a screen, especially on cold days. But I sometimes wonder if one of the greatest costs of excessive screen use isn’t simply what children are watching, but what they may be missing: the slower moments where conversations unfold, imaginations grow and resilience develops. Collecting shells, building cubbies and fairy gardens, kicking the footy until it’s too dark to see, sharing home cooked meals at friends’ houses or simply sitting around the dinner table chatting together.
Our children are growing up in a world unlike anything we’ve experienced before. They don’t need us to have all the answers, but they do need us to stay engaged. To stay curious about what they’re seeing, playing and experiencing online. To set boundaries with love. To have the conversations that help them make sense of the world. Technology is an incredible tool, but it should support childhood, not replace it.
Years from now, our children are unlikely to remember every video they watched or every online game they played. They’ll remember how childhood felt. They’ll remember the people who were present, the adventures they had, the conversations around the dinner table, the comfort, the laughter and the connection.
Those ordinary moments are often the ones that shape an extraordinary childhood.
Let’s make sure they’re never replaced by a screen.