Reset the experience of childhood

I never imagined we would grow this large.

Hire another therapist. Expand the space. Open another location. So many calls. So much need. So much anxiety. It feels impossible to turn anyone away.

I began my career on Long Island in 1997. Children have always had anxiety. They've always struggled with attention, friendships, frustration and self-esteem. But not like this.

A superintendent on Long Island invited me to a meeting.

"We need help," she said. "The behaviors of our elementary kids are like nothing we have ever seen. It gets worse every year."

I went to the school to listen. They can't share art supplies without melting down. They can't listen to a story without visual stimulation. They struggle to wait, transition, take turns or tolerate frustration.

My business phone tells the other half of the story.

"I can't get my daughter to go to school." Or: "He says he can't handle being there all day." Or: "He can't focus on anything."

Childhood has changed. But children fundamentally have not. They still require movement, conversation, boredom, play and relationships as they develop through experience.

When my children were little and we ran out of milk, I schlepped two kids into the car and through a Long Island grocery store. "No, we're not buying that," I'd tell them, or "Put that back."

Today? It's Instacart, which I love — but is an example of digital convenience replacing experience.

Being told "not today" builds frustration tolerance. Negotiating over a toy builds communication. Boredom invites imagination. These moments are where executive functions develop: emotional regulation, impulse control, flexibility, patience, planning and problem-solving. We are removing too many of those moments, then handing children an environment built around instant gratification. Today's teens can swipe through hundreds of short videos engineered to capture attention while navigating a social world that never turns off.

Something deeper is at stake: identity. Metacognition is our ability to think about our own thinking, to notice what we believe, feel and value. Children need quiet and reflection to discover who they are. Instead, an algorithm continuously tells them what everyone else is wearing, buying, doing, thinking. How do you discover yourself when you are constantly being shown who to become?

We have warning signs. The suicide rate among youth ages 10-24 jumped 62% from 2007-2021, but has been heading in the right direction since then, federal health statistics show.

National reading scores have declined. Researchers are examining troubling associations between excessive digital media and children's sleep, attention, mental health and development. And now, before we fully understand what this first technological transformation has done, artificial intelligence is moving into childhood.

This is a place where Long Island can lead. Parents cannot fix this alone. Neither can teachers, therapists, superintendents or legislators. We have to do it together.

Start with Meta's recent multistate settlement over youth social media addiction and harm, and spend the funding coming to our community on education. Schools can create tech-free spaces and imbue experiential learning in the curriculum. Let children handwrite. Sit in circles and debate ideas. Move. Play. Wait.

Teach them what algorithms do to attention and what social media does to comparison and identity.

Policymakers can create developmentally informed protections around technology, social media and AI rather than waiting another generation to learn what we should have done. Set and enforce limits on tech driven to entice children.

The calls coming into my practice are telling us something. So are our teachers, parents and children. We should listen.

This guest essay reflects the views of Stacy Pellettieri, the founder and CEO of Long Island Counseling Services, a mental health practice.