Dear Editors,

I’m a faculty member who would like to do my part to enforce the cell phone rule in Ford without seeming like a jerk.

Assuming that I can’t just do nothing, what would students like faculty members to do when we see them with their cell phones out at the dining tables?

Sincerely, Cellularly Challenged

Dear Cellularly Challenged,

You’ve been handed an impossible task: making cell phone confiscation not awkward. Of course, as students (one of whom is a firsthand victim of an FFC impounding), there inevitably exists some bias against your oh-so-wise guidance. So, a disclaimer—whatever we say, take it with a grain of salt.

To begin, we thought it might be useful to familiarize you with the diverse and varied biosphere of confiscation predators. Knowing your competition is key to thriving out in the wild.

First up: the Lieutenant. Short and to the point. They hold out their hand and add your device to a towering stack.

The Babysitter. Characterized by a sickeningly sweet, “Hi friends :)” in a voice meant only for children below the age of five.

The Escape Artist. Both parties know they’re in the wrong, but it’s easier for everyone if they just don’t make eye contact.

While superficially effective, there are a few key things wrong with these archetypal strategies.

The Lieutenant is overly aggressive, The Babysitter makes full-grown students feel like patronized toddlers, and The Escape Artist lets bad practices become bad habits.

None of them are what you’re looking for: they’re tired from overuse and certainly won’t boost your popularity among the student body.

The trick is to find a happy medium. Remember, it’s not an us-v.s.-you situation. Though we may respond with the occasional eye roll, most of us understand the reasoning behind the cell phone policy. Whether we explicitly voice it or not, we, too, want the interpersonal connection that the policy is designed to foster. In fact, we owe you an apology: it’s really unfair that our student body’s pervasive “cancel culture” has made the faculty scared to do their jobs.

But the fact remains that cell phone confistation is unpopular. Honestly, it’s best to just practice de-escalation. Jumping directly to confiscation is often unnecessary; in most instances, distributing warnings or a gentle but firm “You should really put that away” is more than enough to fulfill the intent of the policy. That way, you’re still enforcing the rules, but won’t gain the reputation of faculty jerk you (rightfully) want to avoid.

Repeat offenders, on the other hand, are a different story. If the student in question has been reminded before, we all agree you are well within your rights to pull a Lieutenant.

Use common sense to evaluate when and where it’s appropriate to be stricter or more lenient. A lone student with a device out at nine a.m. on a Sunday is different from a table of students hunched over their screens during Tuesday lunch. Simultaneously, taking a phone away when it catches your eye is different from hunting the FFC for devices to snatch.

At the end of the day, students understand that it’s your job. That student who cursed you out under their breath at lunch will forgive you by the time check-in rolls around, and they have their cherished device back.

Sincerely,

Shaye & Jack