Written by: Isabella

Edited by: Grace & Audrey

Visual by: Sofia (℅ The Daily Star)

One of the biggest moments of this decade was the COVID pandemic, a global crisis that forced us to adapt, adjust, and learn how to live apart from the places we once saw every day. But ever since then, it feels like we have been buried in our screens, letting days and years slip by without really noticing. While school does its best to stay a space for learning, the constant pull of VPNs, tabs hidden beneath tabs, and endless distractions makes it hard not to wonder: are we actually learning anything new, or just passing the time until we get to go home?

At this point, it is becoming difficult to deny just how chronically online students have become. The non-stop circulation of brainrot and memes has turned screen time into a shared language. Our phones have slipped from being tools to becoming extensions of our hands. What used to be quick, harmless scrolling has turned into a habit woven into every aspect of our days: during classes, between breaks, and late at night when we promise ourselves “one last video”.

9th-grader, Leona captures this shift perfectly: “I think most kids today are kinda chronically online, because almost everything we do, like schoolwork or talking to friends, makes us more addicted than we realize. I feel like that’s why our attention spans are so messed up.” Her observation highlights a subtle but powerful truth: our digital habits shape the very way we think and interact. The line between necessary screen use and unconscious reliance has blurred so much that many of us barely recognize when we’ve crossed it. In a community where so much happens digitally, being plugged in feels less like a choice and more like the default rhythm of everyday life.

One of the biggest challenges in our digitally-saturated school life is the constant tug-of-war between restrictions and access. While the school tries to block distractions like games and social media, students have quickly found ways around these restrictions, often by downloading VPNs. This cat-and-mouse dynamic shows that while the school adapts, students are often one step ahead, anything for the distractions we crave. But at the same time, these tools are not inherently negative; they’re tools our generation uses to navigate a world that exists largely online.

9th-grader, Connor frames the issue as one of personal responsibility, saying, “I think digital freedom should always be a thing; our issues stem from a lack of inherent discipline in managing ourselves.” His perspective highlights a key tension: restrictions alone can’t teach self-control. Without learning how to manage our own focus, any attempt to curb distractions will only inspire workarounds. The VPN, in this sense, becomes a mirror reflection of both the limits of imposed control and the necessity of self-discipline in a digital age.

Leona adds nuance to the discussion, noting that “VPNs aren’t bad by themselves – they’re just tools. It can go both ways; it’s a good tool if you use it responsibly, but using it to bypass school filters solely defeats the purpose of using those tools to your advantage for further serving your studying.” Her observation underscores the idea that the problem isn’t the technology itself but how we choose to engage with it. While VPNs can enable productive research and communication, using them purely to bypass filters turns them into yet another channel for distraction. In the end, these tools are neutral; it’s the intentions behind their use that determine whether they help or hinder us.

Whether all this screen time is really harmful depends less on the internet itself and more on how you use it. “It really depends on what you do and how much you do with it,” says Max, a 10th-grader. “If you just rot away watching things that keep restarting your attention span, then that would obviously be part of the reason,” explaining that behavior is obviously part of the problem. It’s not scrolling itself that is damaging, but the content and how it shapes our brains. Endless streams of memes and brainrot don’t just distract us – they create a feedback loop that makes focus feel foreign. Our online habits quietly reshape the way we think, often without us even noticing.

It isn’t all bad, though. One anonymous student points out that while scrolling has many downsides, it can also be beneficial if used intentionally. If we explore content that sparks curiosity or helps us learn something new, the internet becomes more than a time sink; it becomes a tool. The difference comes down to how we engage with it. Mindless scrolling chips away at focus, but scrolling with intention can expand it, turning our online time into something productive rather than purely distracting. Recognizing this choice and owning how we use our screens is what separates us from being controlled by the feed, from using it to our advantage, setting the stage for how we navigate the digital world.

In the end, our relationship with screens, scrolling, and digital tools is complicated. It’s not about demonizing the internet or glorifying restrictions – it’s about understanding how we use it, when it helps, and when it hijacks our focus. From the memes we scroll through to the VPNs we download, every choice shapes how we learn, communicate, and spend our time. Awareness, intention, and a little discipline may be the best antidote to this constant digital pull. Ultimately, the question isn’t whether the internet controls us – it’s whether we’re willing to take control of ourselves.