Ask any adult to reflect on their schooling, and they are unlikely to remember a worksheet or a video. They will, however, remember the teacher who sparked curiosity, who believed in them when they struggled, and the teacher who noticed when something was wrong. Many of us can point to educators who changed the trajectory of our lives, who turned a failing student around, or in some cases, quite literally saved a life.
This principle has been expressed by none other than King Solomon in the book of Mishlei (Proverbs): “As water reflects a face back to a face, so too does the heart of one person reflect the heart of another.” Our feelings and beliefs are sensed by those we encounter. Those feelings are sensed and then reflected back to us in the same way. When we express love, trust, and belief in someone else, we enable the other person to feel the same way about us. These positive feelings form the bonds of close relationships and are the foundation for continued inspiration and motivation to set high standards and accomplish goals which we may think are out of our reach. When we know someone loves us and believes in us, we can accomplish otherwise impossible tasks and withstand greater trials and tribulations knowing that we have the support we need to maximize our potential.
The success of educators is inseparable from a closely developed relationship which is invested in over the course of a year or more. When learning is outsourced primarily to technology, however, a critical conduit is removed. Effective learning is built on trust, responsiveness, and human connection. This is echoed in social-emotional learning research which emphasizes that teachers create the environments and relationships in which students can thrive academically and emotionally. It is the relationship which is at the core of success.
The presence of technology and its impact on our lives have been exponential. What is relevant today may already be irrelevant tomorrow. Simultaneously, our access to, and dependence on, cell phones and other tech has also increased. This has not only been true in our personal lives. In schools, screens have become ever-present on desks, in backpacks, and in lesson plans. The prevailing assumption has been that “more technology naturally leads to better learning.” Yet a growing body of data suggests that this assumption deserves to be revisited.
As various sectors have begun to grapple with the balance between technology and the school environment, much of the discourse has been focused on students. Countless articles, news stories, and laws have attempted to comment on students’ distractibility, their dependence on devices, and their struggle to stay engaged. Far less attention has been paid to those who are meant to model the behaviors, interactions, and relationships we hope to instill: parents and teachers. Children learn not only from what we say, but from what we demonstrate. When teachers rely on screens as the primary conduit for instruction and engagement, the result is the implicit message being sent to children: mediated interaction is preferable to human connection.
A visit to many schools will find that a typical classroom has a significant portion of its learning, especially in the formative elementary and middle school years, relegated to visual platforms. While these tools can be valuable supplements and play a significant role in differentiated instruction and data-driven education, their use raises a fundamental question: Is school solely about information transfer? If education is reduced to content delivery, then a screen may indeed suffice. But schools have never been only about information. They are equally about the development of the whole child intellectually, socially, and emotionally.
Eating away even further at the teacher-student relationship is “technoference,” the intrusion of technology into in-person interactions. When a teacher or student engages with, or via, a screen, the relational link is severed. Instead, a message, however unintentionally, is sent that the device is more important than the person in the room. The mere presence of a cellphone or tablet has been shown to reduce the quality of interaction, diminishing trust, closeness, and the depth of conversation. Perhaps most insidiously, screens foster a state of “absent presence,” in which individuals are physically together but mentally elsewhere, separated by their digital worlds. How can a teacher sitting at the desk bond with a student as they stare away in the opposite direction at a projector screen. How can students form a bond with one another when they remain individuals processing information from their own lens?
Digital tools in the classroom can crowd out opportunities for hands-on learning and direct social interaction with teachers and peers. For younger students, this loss is even more significant as language development, cognitive growth, and emotional regulation depend on the back-and-forth responsiveness of an engaged adult.
At its core, the relationship between teacher and student relies on the ebb and flow of interaction that blends the realms of physical, psychological, and emotional. When technology dominates the classroom, the harmony is disrupted. If we want attentive, socially capable, and emotionally healthy children, we must ensure that our classrooms remain places where human connection is central and where teachers teach not only with content, but with presence.
Rabbi Aryeh Kravetz is head of school at Toras Chaim.