It is hardly an understatement to say that a chorus of complaints resounded through my AP World History classroom when my teacher introduced the great phone jail. I’ll admit that one or two of these objections came from my lips.
The phone cubbies were first delivered to teachers during the spring of last school year, and they definitely caused a commotion at the time. However, most of my teachers left these cells folded in the corner of the room. In the 2025-26 school year, the caddies remain collecting dust behind a desk or in a cabinet for many of my teachers.
My AP World teacher is not one of them.
Although I despised it at first, I have grown accustomed to the routine. When I enter her class every morning, I put my phone in slot 17 and retrieve it when the bell rings. It’s a worthy procedure—no distractions, and no disrespect.
My other teachers all have a different approach to the phone policy. Advanced Writing for Publication (The Central Trend) requires the use of a phone, and, at times, it feels like my Editor-in-Chief duties keep me bound to the small device. This example, however, is an outlier; most of my teachers’ policies are “Keep it in your backpack or I’ll take it.” Some allow students to listen to music, and others permit them to keep it on their desks. Some say to put the phones in the phone holder when students need to use the hallway. All of the reasons seem to ensure that students are not distracted, and I have shifted my phone use according to each teacher’s rules.
Across all of the different ways my teachers choose to enforce the phone rule, it is interesting to hypothesize why they have decided to do so. What parts of their personality or teaching styles are reflected in their choices? Is this teacher more lenient because they are young and inherently forgiving, or because they want to please their students? Is that teacher more strict because of their dominant personality? It’s a nuanced science that I have mentally revisited on numerous occasions, although not always in relation to the phone rule.
Far more interesting, perhaps, is seeing how some teachers use various discretion for different students.
I admit that I had my phone taken from me on one occasion. I broke the rules and was rightfully punished for it, having to pick it up from the front office at the end of the day. I was upset—even a little embarrassed—but I had forgotten the incident by the end of the day. The memory came back in full force when the same teacher decided to implement no punishment after catching a fellow student fully immersed in a game of Clash Royale. This incident raised a barrage of speculations akin to those that preceded it. Unlike the previous questions, these were laced with insecurities.
Is it because I was hiding it? Is it because he was using it during work time? Is it because I did poorly on that test?
Is it because she doesn’t like me?
It is no radical statement to say that all students should get the same treatment from their teachers. I understand that it’s hard—teaching is a wildly personal job, one of the most personal of them all. There will always be students who are difficult to work with. But under no circumstance should any personal qualms with a student affect the way educators treat them.
I am well adapted to each of my teachers’ phone policies. However, when confronted with the possibility of favoritism, I have come to think that the policy should be uniform throughout the entire school building.
