Free iPads: the Equitable Choice?
A few days ago, I was invited to speak to a roomful of Harvard graduate students alongside my friend and colleague Gabriela about equity and technology. As we introduced practical alternatives for iPad usage in the home and at school, the dangers of embracing digital devices at a young age, and the overwhelming benefits of opting out, there was a curious tone in the room. A dash of skepticism, perhaps, or maybe even a hint of perceived self-righteousness that we would dare to recommend this course of action and call it accessible to any sociodemographic group. As soon as the Q&A portion of our presentation began, I knew why.
With every hand raised, this question, or one like it, was posed: How do you respond to someone who says that iPads are a resource for under-resourced families? I'm sharing my answer here in hopes that we can all form our own larger conversations about what it means to elevate things - iPads or otherwise - above people…
We’re playing the long game here.
When I think of iPads in under-resourced communities, I often fast forward to ten or fifteen years down the road when a child is displaying the side effects from using these addictive devices, and what I know - what I have heard over and over from parents and what research has now revealed - is that these children do not have access to the same rescue pipeline as a child from a more affluent family might. So these kids fall through the cracks, in every sense of the word.
Research shows a higher percentage of identity theft victims online are within lower income brackets, mainly due to vulnerabilities like limited access to credit monitoring. Under-resourced kids are 50% more likely to be cyberbullied, threatened, or abused online. And when ADHD or other screen-linked behavioral and mental health issues are diagnosed as a result of an overreliance on smart technology, low income parents are increasingly reporting an inability to pay to treat their child.
So yes, it’s certainly a layered convo when you’re imagining a single mother trying to put food on the table without handing over an iPad, but the strategies she can incorporate with a young child - rocks to stack, junk mail to craft with, paper and crayons, organizing pantry items - are going to stimulate and engage her child’s brain in a way that isn’t going to require a medication she can’t afford a few short years later.
I know how nuanced this conversation is. But I also know this: I have been granted the position to speak boldly as someone who, for over a decade, has had a front row seat to these platforms. I know where these algorithms lead. I know they are no place we would willingly allow or desire our children to end up.
And so, I feel it’s my duty and responsibility to share what I believe is hope for tomorrow, rather than shame for the past. Remember: we can course correct at any time. And we must.