The Power of a Tech-Free Day

Continuing my weekly teaching contribution to the NextGen, I subbed my first day of the school year this week.

It was at a Kindergarten and 1st Grade-only school. These humans were young. To put it into perspective, some had only had three days of formal school in their entire lives — three days!

I was assigned playground duties: an hour of supervising unstructured play — wow, did they have energy — followed by 90 minutes of indoor “free choice” time with the Kindergartners. They could choose from stations: building with wood blocks, LEGO bricks, and other types of connecting materials, a bin of animals, a box of dinosaurs, or a drawing and coloring section.

The rule was simple: kids could switch stations only if another child agreed to switch too. Built into this were early lessons in decision-making, respect, negotiation, and boundaries — all of which take time and repetition to learn.

It was low-tech — actually, no tech!

And it was incredible to observe these young, creative minds at play. While there were some rules and expectations, the structures and social norms of “how things are supposed to be” were only just starting to take shape. That made space for wild ideas, imaginative games, and spontaneous collaboration. And, three days into school, there was quite a bit of latitude around the school to help kids settle in.

There was no fear of judgment or failure. Just lots of trying things out, testing limits, and making things up on the fly. A creative environment—safe, open-ended, and free of too much constraint—where the only goals were engagement and exploration.

Now, I’ll admit: I rely on tech and AI tools daily.

They usually make life easier, help me move faster, and keep things organized. But spending a day without screens or devices—just watching kids create and play—really hit me: while those tools can support efficiency and even help spark ideas, creativity doesn’t come from the tools themselves. It comes from having the space to explore, the freedom to make mistakes, and the chance to adjust.

This was the first time in a long time I’d spent nearly an entire day without technology—okay, there was a five-minute Minecraft racing video during snack time, during which I did wonder what emails I might have missed. Still, it was a really refreshing reset, and it reminded me what it feels like to be fully present.

I also faced real challenges that no amount of leadership or boardroom experience had prepared me for.

Left with a class of 20 young humans for an hour, one student was really upset for much of the period — overwhelmed, homesick, and desperate to see their mom. How do you support them while also tending to the needs of 19 others?

This wasn’t in my wheelhouse, but I did my best to acknowledge their feelings, listen, ask questions, and eventually read a book aloud to the class. A part of me kept thinking I should call someone. But another part of me was saying: if I jump to solving today’s discomfort with a quick fix, tomorrow probably won’t get any easier.

We made it through the day. My tech was still there. I hadn’t missed anything earth-shattering. And I even managed to make it to the gym and swim before opening my inbox.