This article was automatically translated from the original Turkish version.
Every morning, as I enter the classroom, I look into the faces of my five-year-old children, who run to me with tiny steps, their eyes shining brightly. In their innocent curiosity, in their search for the world in the wing of a butterfly or a handful of soil, I see the purest form of the human soul. Yet unfortunately, today that unique period we call childhood is quietly slipping from our hands, caught between the cold and rapid gears of modern times.
Childhood is not merely about growing taller or increasing in age. It is a profound spiritual and emotional construction process that cannot be sacrificed to speed, consumption, or ready-made visuals. Today, this natural development is being replaced by a deep state of overstimulation and loneliness hidden behind bright, cold glass screens.
Our childhood was about touching the earth, falling and scraping our knees, turning a tree branch into a horse and running through the streets until the evening call to prayer. We learned the world through our senses, through mud, and by looking into our friend’s eyes. Both mind and soul are nourished precisely by this tangible, living contact.
Today, we condemn children to passive inactivity, imprisoned by the hypnotic flow of screens. The child, once an explorer, an experiencer, and a dreamer, has become a passive consumer of ready-made images. Alienation from one’s own nature and innate instincts begins in the earliest steps of life, with fingers sliding across cold glass.
Play is not something invented to occupy or distract a child; it is the child’s bread and water. It is the language through which they express feelings when words fail, and the sanctuary where they soothe their inner turmoil.
When we surrender a child to the artificial and rapid rhythm of screens:
The solution is not to curse technology every time we pick it up or to roam the house like a constant enforcer of bans. We cannot take the device from the child’s hand and leave behind only a void. The issue is to open another space that touches the child’s heart.
Protecting our children’s childhood is, in fact, protecting our own future, our compassion, and our humanity. Will we leave them ready-made, soulless digital worlds—or will we leave them open, free spaces where they can build their own dreams and walk barefoot on the earth?
From the Street to the Screen Glass: How Did We Become So Lonely?
Play: The Language of the Soul and the Cure of Childhood
So What Do We Do as Parents?