Since I started at Elon University four years ago, I’ve wrestled with how to approach smartphone use in my classroom. In my syllabi, I previously stated: “Cell phones (on silent or vibrate) are permitted in class, but please be considerate of your colleagues and exercise discretion.” This policy reflected my broader pedagogical approach of cultivating mutual respect and treating students as co-creators of our learning environment. I asked my students to do what I strive to do myself (albeit imperfectly): to be responsible, to consider how our phone use might affect others, and to treat each other how they would want to be treated. My goal was to develop trust and a sense of shared responsibility for our classroom culture. 

Even with that approach, I still saw phones coming out all the time. Students were texting, checking notifications, listening to music (using a sneaky AirPod hidden under a hoodie or behind hair), or sometimes just fiddling with their phones out of habit. And honestly, this behavior isn’t surprising. Despite ongoing debate in both popular culture and among scholars, including a recent and contentious consensus statement (Capraro et al. 2025), about problematic smartphone use and the still-nascent longitudinal evidence on causality, a growing body of research suggests that smartphone use is problematic for many individuals (Ahmed et al. 2024) and a ubiquitous source of distraction, or “technoference” (George et al. 2018). There’s also constant social pressure to stay in contact, to not miss out. I don’t blame students for that. I experience it, too. 

But over the past few semesters, I’ve had to admit to myself that my smartphone policy wasn’t working. And simply having a policy and addressing it directly when it was violated wasn’t enough; I needed to bring students into the conversation and help them understand why the issue mattered. Yet I’ve struggled to find the right story to resonate with them; statistics and neuroimaging studies can feel too abstract, too distant from their lived experience.  

My “Aha!” Moment at the International Congress on Children and Screens 

This summer, I had the opportunity to attend the International Congress on Children and Screens, thanks to support from the Elon University Offices of Undergraduate Research and Sponsored Projects and the Human Service Studies department. The conference brought together scholars, practitioners, and policymakers from around the world, each exploring how technology shapes development and education from a wide range of disciplinary perspectives. 

One presentation, in particular, left a lasting impression. As a developmental scientist, I’m especially drawn to studies that illuminate how development happens, those mechanisms and everyday processes that shape development (Bronfenbrenner and Morris 2006). Research that captures the quality of those real-world interactions is rare, which is why this presentation stood out so vividly. 

Tzipi Horowitz-Kraus, a professor and researcher at the Technion in Haifa, Israel, presented compelling findings from her lab’s work on parent-child storytelling and the impact of smartphone use on those interactions. In a 2022 study (Zivan et al.), her team used EEG technology to measure brain activity in both parents and children as they read stories together. During these dialogic (i.e., interactive and collaborative) storytelling sessions, their brain activity was highly synchronized, clear evidence of shared attention and connection. In a second condition, however, parents had access to a smartphone and received text messages during the interaction, resulting in significantly reduced brain synchronization between parent and child. In addition to these results, Horowitz-Kraus presented data from a single parent-child pair. The contrast in these images was particularly striking. In the first scenario (figure 1), the graph of EEG activation were filled with areas of bright yellow, showing strong neural synchrony between parent (X-axis) and child (Y-axis). In the second (figure 2), with the smartphone present, those areas of synchrony nearly disappeared, replaced by blue regions of disconnection. As a visual thinker, I found this comparison deeply powerful. The images captured what words often can’t: the profound way smartphones can disrupt presence and human connection. And yes, these photos are from my iPhone. (Apologies! There are further images in the paper.)  

Figure 1. Brain synchronization during parent–child storytelling. Image photographed by Jessica Navarro during the invited panel “Brain Development in a Digital World” at the International Congress on Children and Screens, July 2025. Presentation by Tzipi Horowitz-Kraus, Technion–Israel Institute of Technology. Used with permission.
Figure 2. Brain synchronization during parent–child storytelling with smartphone interruptions. Image photographed by Jessica Navarro during the invited panel “Brain Development in a Digital World” at the International Congress on Children and Screens, July 2025. Presentation by Tzipi Horowitz-Kraus, Technion–Israel Institute of Technology. Used with permission.

From Parent-Child Storytelling to the Elon Classroom 

Although the Zivan et al. (2022) study focused on parents and children reading stories together, it made me think deeply about teaching. Teaching, at its best, is a kind of dialogic storytelling. We’re engaging in a shared process where both teacher and students are active participants. We listen to each other, build on ideas, and co-create meaning. When that happens, it feels like we’re in sync, cognitively, emotionally, relationally… it feels like we’re in a flow state. So I started wondering: Is parent-child storytelling really that different from other types of engaged teaching and learning processes? Probably not. Further, if a smartphone can interrupt connection between a parent and child so profoundly, what might it be doing in our classrooms? I realized that I wanted to present this study to my students as a why behind my smartphone policy. 

At the beginning of this semester, I created a short set of slides to show both of my classes, one is a COR1100 course for first-year students, and the other a senior-level major course. I presented the EEG data and the visual images from the storytelling study. We talked about the process of storytelling itself, because almost everyone in the room had some experience reading stories with parents or caregivers when they were young. 

Then we talked about what that same idea of connection and presence might mean in the classroom. What does it look like when we’re all fully engaged? What happens when that flow is disrupted? After discussing the why, I introduced my revised policy. It’s pretty simple: “No smartphones out during class. Phones stay in bags and if you need to use your phone, please step outside the classroom. No penalty, no judgment.”  

And I hold myself to the same standard. I keep my phone in my bag during class, and I try to be present and intentional with students. Of course, I’m not perfect. Sometimes I catch myself slipping. Sometimes I catch a student doing the same. But rather than turning it into a punitive issue, I gently remind them (and myself) that we’re doing this together. We’re doing it so that we can be present. So that we can stay connected in the moment. So that the process of teaching and learning can be the kind of dialogic, relational exchange it’s meant to be. 

If you’re interested in seeing the slides I shared with my students or discussing this approach further, feel free to email me at jnavarro2@elon.edu.  


References 

Ahmed, Oli, Erin I. Walsh, Amy Dawel, Khawlah Alateeq, Daniela Andrea Espinoza Oyarce, and Nicolas Cherbuin. 2024. “Social Media Use, Mental Health and Sleep: A Systematic Review with Meta-analyses.” Journal of Affective Disorders 367: 701–12. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jad.2024.08.193

Bronfenbrenner, Urie, and Pamela A. Morris. 2006. “The Bioecological Model of Human Development.” In Handbook of Child Psychology: Theoretical Models of Human Development, edited by Richard M. Lerner, 6th ed., vol. 1, 793–828. Wiley. 

Capraro, Valerio, et al. 2025. Consensus Statement on Potential Negative Impacts of Smartphone and Social Media Use on Adolescent Mental Health. Seton Hall Law School Legal Studies Research Paper Forthcoming, HEC Paris Research Paper No. MKG-2025-1567. http://dx.doi.org/10.2139/ssrn.5256747

George, Madeleine, Michael A. Russell, Joy R. Piontak, and Candice L. Odgers. 2018. “Concurrent and Subsequent Associations Between Daily Digital Technology Use and High‐Risk Adolescents’ Mental Health Symptoms.” Child Development 89 (1): 78–88. https://doi.org/10.1111/cdev.12819

Horowitz-Kraus, Tzipi. 2025. “Brain Development in a Digital World.” Invited panel presentation at the International Congress on Children and Screens, Haifa, Israel, July 2025.

Zivan, Michal, Carmel Gashri, Nir Habuba, and Tzipi Horowitz-Kraus. 2022. “Reduced Mother-Child Brain-to-Brain Synchrony during Joint Storytelling Interaction Interrupted by a Media Usage.” Child Neuropsychology 28 (7): 918–37. https://doi.org/10.1080/09297049.2022.2034774


About the Author 

Jessica Navarro, assistant professor of human service studies at Elon University, researches how everyday interactions shape human development across the lifespan. Grounded in Bronfenbrenner’s bioecological theory, her work explores how families, technology, and sociocultural contexts influence well-being. Drawing on her background as a social worker, Dr. Navarro connects research and practice to improve the daily lives of children and families. 

How to Cite this Post  

Navarro, Jessica. 2025. “Teaching as Storytelling: How a Neuroscience Study Changed My Classroom Smartphone Policy.” Elon University Center for Engaged Learning (blog). November 11, 2025. https://www.centerforengagedlearning.org/teaching-as-storytelling-how-a-neuroscience-study-changed-my-classroom-smartphone-policy.