Shifting your focus: From the screen to the relationship
Let’s be honest: it’s easy to get caught in daily battles about tech.
Another video, another scroll, another app we’ve never heard of. One more eye roll, one more "just five more minutes." And suddenly, the whole house is on edge.
But here’s an invitation to ask a different question:
Are we fighting the screen… or are we fighting our kids?
The real and epic battle is against systems far bigger than us—platforms designed to hijack attention, business models built to monetize every scroll, a world that’s always on. But that’s hard to rage against from your kitchen. So instead, in the home the tension lands squarely in the space between us and our kids. While we’re railing against their screen use, it just ends up in conflict between parents and kids.
That’s where the friction builds.
That’s where connection starts to fray.
Reframe the Problem
It makes sense that we're reacting the way we do. We're exhausted. We're trying to protect our kids from a digital world that often feels too big and too fast. But when our frustration and fear show up as control—when we block, ban, or yell—our kids don't see protection. They see opposition.
And over time, we become “the enemy.”
The screen becomes the escape.
And the cycle continues.
This isn’t to say kids don’t need boundaries (they do). But when we position ourselves as adversaries to the thing they care about, we risk damaging the very relationship that allows boundaries to be effective in the first place.
From Adversary to Ally
So what if we stopped trying to win? What if we tried to understand instead?
That doesn't mean giving in or pretending tech doesn’t have serious issues. But it does mean stepping out of fight mode and into curiosity. To start the process, try asking:
What do you like about this game/show/app?
How does it make you feel when you use it?
Is there anything about it that ever feels off or uncomfortable?
These kinds of questions signal something powerful: I'm not here to shut you down. I'm here to help you figure this out.
That shift—from adversary to ally—can open up conversations that were previously shut down. And that’s where the real influence begins. With a deeper understanding of what tech use means to your kid, you can continue the process by getting specific about the issue, teaching new skills, and working together to find a solution.
Get Specific
One of the biggest traps we fall into is treating “tech” as one big, bad monolith. But we can’t work from a place of vague broad panic. Instead, ask yourself: What exactly am I worried about?
Is it that your kid is staying up too late?
Is it that they seem more withdrawn?
Are you concerned about who they’re talking to, or what they’re watching?
The more specific you get, the more actionable your next steps become.
Instead of a full-on phone ban, maybe what’s needed is a consistent screen cutoff time at night. Or a conversation about how to spot manipulative advertising. Or a check-in about online friend groups and digital boundaries.
It’s a lot easier to solve a problem when you know exactly what it is.
Teach, Don’t Just Block
Blocking tech access to solve the problem may be appealing, and it may be the best approach, but it’s a temporary fix. It solves a short-term issue. Over time, it leaves a vacuum—no new skills, no new awareness, just a delayed version of the same challenge. With a specific concern identified, you can now find a specific skill to teach for long term learning.
Two major skill sets that help kids thrive long-term is media literacy (understanding how and why content is created and how to consume it with a dose of criticism and awareness) and emotional self-regulation (recognizing how screens affect emotions and learning to manage that relationship). Those are muscles we have to help them build—just like we do with everything else they’re still learning.
Here’s what that might look like:
Pointing out when you’ve gone down a rabbit hole and saying out loud, “I need a break. My brain feels fried.”
Watching their favorite YouTuber or TikTok series with them and asking, “What do you think makes this so popular?”
Noticing emotional shifts: “You seemed kind of cranky after that last scroll—how are you feeling?”
By starting these kinds of discussions you're not lecturing. Instead, you're inviting reflection and building the capacity for awareness.
What Collaboration Looks Like
Collaboration doesn’t mean giving kids free rein. It means involving them in the process. It means giving them a say in the rules that affect their daily lives.
And, maybe hardest of all, it means modeling the behaviors we’re asking from them.
To start taking charge and creating the kinds of media experiences you want them to learn, try:
Sharing your own screen limits and sticking to them
Letting your kid help decide “tech-free” zones in the house
Co-creating a media agreement that you both revisit regularly
Laughing at memes together, or using tech to create something side-by-side
Allowing them to suggest alternatives that still meet the goals you have (e.g., “I want you to rest your eyes, so what else could you do for a break?”)
These moments build trust. And trust builds influence.
The Bottom Line
Your fears are valid.
You’re not imagining it—this stuff is hard.
But the more we stay in a reactive, controlling space, the more we risk losing the connection that allows us to truly guide our kids through it all.
Your kid is not your opponent.
They’re your partner in navigating a tricky world.
The path forward includes prioritizing your connection. And working together, as their guide while you both learn how to be safe, healthy, balanced, and intentional about everyone's tech use.