It turns out that in solving some problems for our children, we often create others. A child who is used to having problems solved by a teacher or parent can quickly grow dependent on this help. They may begin to think they lack the capacity to create their own solutions, and they don’t learn to tolerate the discomfort that comes along with struggling.
— Head of School Russell Shaw, 2019
Weeks before the first bell of the school year rang, and long before students began their preparations for the rituals that high school fosters, an email quietly slipped into the inboxes of parents and students alike. Amid the summer lull, it announced a decision: Come fall, phones would be banned during school hours. There was no lead-up, no conversation — just a swift decree delivered while we were scattered and disconnected. At a school that champions student voices and engagement, this abrupt announcement felt jarring, almost as if it were designed to bypass the very dialogue that GDS encourages us to embrace.
The Bit takes no stance on the phone ban itself. Instead, we’d like to focus on the way these policies are made and the broader implications for student involvement. Our focus is on the process — on the fact that the decision was made without student input, which raises questions about students’ ability to voice their opinions and be heard in a community where they are the vast majority.
GDS has always prided itself on a philosophy rooted in student engagement, independence and activism. We are reminded, time and again, that our voices matter — that we are not just students but active participants in shaping our school’s community. It’s a place where we’re taught to question, to speak up and to lead. Yet, as we reflect on the phone ban and its quiet implementation, we can’t help but wonder: When did our voices begin to fade into the background?
In a recent email, Principal Yom Fox compared possible backlash to the policy to the dissent that Gandhi and Mother Teresa faced. But at GDS, where our mission is to foster an environment where every voice is heard and respected, Fox’s analogy feels misplaced. Gandhi and Mother Teresa did not make decisions for others — they made decisions with others. They were engaging with the people they served, listening to their needs and responding with empathy. The strength of their leadership came from their connection to the communities they uplifted, not from bypassing their input.
This isn’t the first time we’ve felt our power in decision-making slipping away. Over the past few years, we’ve seen a quiet but steady shift — a drift away from the open dialogue and student engagement that once defined our school.
In the past few years, the administration has been making major decisions that directly affect students without consulting them at all. A few come to mind immediately. In 2022, administrators limited psych options to only those that are pre-approved, unilaterally taking any sort of spontaneity and creativity out of a tradition designed to create these things. Fox also imposed strict restrictions on the senior run-in, avoiding controversy at the expense of the community.
We want to clarify a distinction between these policies themselves and the path that the administration took to create them. Our main objection is not that psychs must be approved, that nudity is discouraged or even that students can’t use phones. Instead, the administration’s avoidance of any sort of engagement with students is a blatant sign that our voices do not truly have power and that we may not contribute to matters that the administration finds important.
The lack of conversation around and input into new policies creates an additional issue. It communicates not only that our voices are not valued but also that there is no possible objection, problem or nuance that any student could bring up that the administration had not already addressed. This approach dismisses the possibility that students can offer valuable insight, showing that any inclusion of our input on policy is merely performative.
Incidents like the run-in and psych restrictions might seem minor in isolation — a tweak here, a new rule there. But together, they paint a picture of a school where student voices are increasingly sidelined, where the very principles of independence and activism on which GDS was built are at risk of eroding. The phone ban is just the latest example, but it’s part of a larger trend.
As we step back onto campus, we should remember the values that have always set GDS apart: a commitment to dialogue, to independence and to the belief that students are not just idle passengers but active shapers of their own educational journey. It’s time for the administration to not only listen to but to engage with the student body in the way our school’s mission demands. Decisions about our lives should include our voices.
Moving forward, the administration must commit to ensuring that students are involved in decisions that directly affect their day-to-day lives. While the phone ban may now be in place, the administration can set a new precedent by establishing a formal process in which students are always consulted before major policies are made. It shouldn’t be a novel idea that students are involved in big decisions, especially at GDS. It should be the status quo.