Tag Archive for: Communication

Like when I’m late to first grade pickup or send an email with a typo. 

When does your inner critic show up? When you say the wrong thing in a meeting? At breakfast when you’ve burned the toast? Or maybe you’re in a season of high stress and your inner critic is consistently whispering… You could be doing more or better in life… You need to be more focused at work and at home… Why did you do that?

Helpful, right? Not always.

Psychotherapist Richard Schwartz, who created a form of therapy called Internal Family Systems (IFS), says our inner world has “parts,” like members of a little family inside us. The inner critic is one of those parts, usually a protector, trying awkwardly to keep us safe from shame or failure. Instead of fighting it, IFS suggests we get curious about what it’s worried about. That stance can soften the sting and reveal what we truly need. 

Research shows that self-compassion—treating yourself like you’d treat a good friend—links to better mental health and even healthier habits like sleeping, exercising, and managing stress. A large meta-analysis found people higher in self-compassion practice more health-promoting behaviors; the effect held across multiple samples. 

There’s more: compassion-focused training (a cousin to self-compassion practices) reduces self-criticism and symptoms like anxiety and depression in clinical settings. In other words, practicing warmth with yourself can help you build grit. 

And a simple language tweak helps, too. Studies on “distanced self-talk” (using your name or “you” with yourself like: “Okay, Lauren, take a breath”) show it can dial down emotional heat and boost self-control in tough moments.

  1. Spot it. When the voice gets loud (“You blew it!”), pause and name it: That’s my inner critic. Naming creates a little space. (IFS calls this getting curious about the “part” that’s talking.)
  2. Say thanks (yes, really). Try: “Thanks for trying to protect me.” This signals safety and often lowers the volume.
  3. Ask what it’s afraid of. “What are you worried might happen if I relax?” You might hear: “People will think you’re careless.” Now you’ve found the deeper need—perhaps for perceived competence or respect.
  4. Switch to coach mode. Use distanced self-talk: “Okay, Lauren, what’s one next best step?” (Fix the typo, send a brief follow-up.) Small actions restore control.
  5. Add a dose of self-compassion. Try the “3s” check-in:
    • Self-kindness: “It’s human to slip up.”
    • Common humanity: “Everyone sends imperfect emails.”
    • Mindfulness: “This is stressful, and I can breathe through it.”

For parents, modeling how you treat yourself and how you process your inner critic for your children can give them lifelong tools to manage their own self criticism. When my son struggles with his math workbook and mutters, “I’m so dumb,” I try to model a reset: “Talk to yourself like you’d talk to a friend.” Practicing out loud teaches our kids a lifelong skill—turning the critic into a coach. 

If your inner critic is relentless—fueling shame or shutting down your life—extra support can help. Reaching out to a counselor, especially one trained in IFS-informed therapy, can help you ease harsh self-attacks and build a steadier, kinder inner voice.

Your inner critic will never fully disappear, but with practice, you’ll hear its warning, meet the real need, and move forward with a clearer head and a kinder heart–which, honestly, is something we could all use.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

There’s a story I tell myself about my childhood.

It goes something like this: I was a pretty easy kid. My parents loved each other. My siblings and I had some spats here and there, but nothing too out of the ordinary. We laughed a lot. There were Saturday morning cartoons, tons of playing together outside, the occasional grounding, and a general sense that life was simple and safe.

But lately, as I watch my two-year-old daughter throw bananas on our glass door for sport, and my six-year-old son asks questions that would make a philosopher sweat, I’ve started to wonder if the story I tell myself is… entirely true.

Because sometimes, what we remember and what actually happened aren’t the same thing.

Memory isn’t a recording device. It’s more like a scrapbook we keep rearranging.

According to Dr. Elizabeth Loftus, a leading expert on memory and false memories, our brains are constantly rewriting the past based on new experiences, emotions, and even the way we talk about what happened. “Memory is malleable,” she says. “We can be led to remember our past in different ways.”

That means the bedtime stories we heard, the way our family framed events, and even the old photos we looked at can all shape or reshape how we remember.

What happens when our story starts to crack? Sometimes, it’s subtle. You hear a sibling talk about “how chaotic things were” growing up—and you think, Wait… what? Or maybe a therapist asks a question that makes a memory pop up sideways. Or maybe, like me, you become a parent and start seeing your own upbringing through a totally different lens.

And when that happens, it can feel disorienting.

Realizing your childhood wasn’t what you thought, whether it wasn’t as happy, or it was better than you gave it credit for, can trigger a whole range of emotions: grief, anger, guilt, even relief.

But here’s the good news: This is part of growing up. Even at 35.

In short, it’s not about having a perfect past. It’s about making peace with it.

When do memory shake-ups start to happen? Usually during what researchers call “identity-shifting moments.” Big life changes. Getting married. Becoming a parent. Losing a loved one. Moving back to your hometown. Turning 30. Turning 50. Sitting in the car after a long day and realizing… huh, maybe I wasn’t the “easy kid” after all.

One fascinating study published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology found that our memories tend to be filtered through who we are now, not who we were then. As our identities shift, so does our version of the story.

Which explains why, when my toddler throws a tantrum that rattles the windows, I suddenly remember my mom closing her bedroom door a lot. I used to think she just really liked her alone time. But maybe—just maybe—she was overwhelmed and didn’t know how to handle my own emotional outbursts.

Here’s the truth: Our memories might not be perfect, but they’re still powerful.

Looking back with clearer eyes doesn’t mean we have to villainize anyone. In fact, it might help us extend grace to ourselves, to our parents, and to the whole messy cast of characters who shaped our early years.

It also helps us do better. Be more intentional. Choose the kind of stories we want our kids to tell themselves when they’re grown.

So if you’re ever surprised by a memory you forgot, or one you’re starting to see differently, you’re not broken. You’re evolving. And that’s a beautiful, brave thing.

Don’t be afraid to tell a new story. One that holds both the good and the hard. One that lets your past be honest and your present be hopeful.

And if your toddler ever chucks a banana at your face, just know: You have the opportunity to give them something sweet to remember (even if it’s a little mushy).

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

In fact, it’s how millions of people meet these days, especially busy single parents, college students, young professionals, and even those looking for love later in life. But the study, which surveyed over 6,600 people from 50 different countries, found that on average, couples who met online reported lower levels of intimacy, passion, commitment, and overall relationship satisfaction than couples who met offline. 

Another factor is what researchers call “homogamy.” It means people tend to have stronger, more satisfying relationships when they share common ground, such as similar values, cultural backgrounds, education levels, and life goals. Offline couples, it turns out, are more likely to have that natural overlap because they tend to meet in shared spaces, like church, school, mutual friends, the lunch line at work.

There’s also the challenge of community support. When you meet someone through friends or your social circle, you automatically get a little network of encouragement. Your people know their people. There’s history. And maybe some gentle accountability. But when you meet online, you don’t get that built-in backup system, at least not right away.

None of this means online dating is doomed. Plenty of strong, loving, deeply connected couples met on Bumble or Hinge or (gasp!) even Craigslist back in the day.

We have to move beyond swiping, past the highlight-reel conversations, and toward the real stuff: communication, vulnerability, shared purpose, and mutual respect.

As someone who leads a nonprofit focused on strengthening families, I think a lot about how relationships begin and how they grow. The spark is fun, sure. But it’s the slow burn of trust, laughter, shared grocery lists, and “I’ll get up with the baby this time” moments that keep couples going strong.

So if you met your partner online, wonderful. Keep watering that relationship. Build your community. Don’t be afraid to ask the hard questions. And if you’re still swiping, maybe balance that screen time with real-world connection. Let your friends set you up. Go to that birthday party. Say hello at the library. Sometimes love shows up when your phone is in your pocket.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

Here’s the truth about “adulting” in 2025: it’s a moving target.

As a 35-year-old CEO of a family nonprofit—and a mom to a fearless two-year-old and a six-year-old who just discovered the magic of school lunch pizza—I think a lot about what our kids are growing up into. The U.S. Census Bureau’s latest look at milestones of adulthood gives us a clear signal: the path most young adults take today is different from the one many of us expected.

For decades, four milestones often stood in for “made it”: move out, get a job, marry, have kids. In 1975, nearly half of 25- to 34-year-olds had checked all four boxes. New Census data reveals that in 2024, less than one-quarter did. The most common pattern now? Young adults living on their own and in the labor force—but not necessarily married or parenting (about 28%). In short: economic steps are outpacing family steps. 

Census researchers also updated how they measure adulthood by adding a fifth marker—finishing education—and examined 2005 to 2023. In 2005, about 26% of young adults had reached all five milestones; by 2023, that share fell to about 17%. At the same time, labor-force participation remained the most common single marker (about 86% in 2023), and living independently dipped slightly (84% in 2005 to 81% in 2023).

We also see shifts inside the family story. Fewer young adults are married than three decades ago. In 2023, just 29% of 25- to 29-year-olds were married (down from 50% in 1993), and 51% of 30- to 34-year-olds (down from 63%). Among 18- to 24-year-olds, only 7% were married in 2023, according to the Pew Research Center.

Where young adults live has shifted, too. A majority of 18- to 24-year-olds (57%) currently live in a parent’s home, up from 53% in 1993. Housing costs, longer schooling, and a desire for financial stability are all part of the story. 

Remember, milestones aren’t just boxes on a list. They shape identity, purpose, and well-being.

The 2024 Census story notes that young adults are prioritizing economic security before starting families—understandable when housing, food, and gas take bigger bites of the budget. But when family formation lags, it can ripple into community life: fewer volunteers at schools and parks, later grandparent support, and smaller social safety nets built through extended family ties. 

At the same time, it’s worth remembering: Americans are increasingly comfortable saying there isn’t one “right” age to hit life goals. Many still see the ideal window for marriage, first child, and buying a home as 25-34, but a Pew Research Center survey reveals a large share now say there’s no best age at all. That cultural shift matters; expectations can either weigh young adults down or give them room to grow. 

For parents and families worried about whether or not their children will be a prime “failure to launch” situation, here are practical, research-backed ways to help young adults reach those milestones, on a timeline that fits real life.

1) Build the relationship before the résumé.

Strong, steady connections with caring adults protect mental health and help young people handle transitions such as college, first jobs, and new housing. Make regular check-ins a habit (text, coffee, a Sunday call). Ask good questions and listen more than you advise. Connectedness is protective.

2) Coach for independence, not control.

Think “scaffolding”: offer structure and encouragement while they practice making decisions around budgeting, reading a lease, setting up auto-pay, and making a doctor’s appointment. These are executive-function skills (planning, focus, self-control). They don’t magically appear at 18; they’re built with practice and feedback. 

3) Normalize starter steps.

Milestones are often reached in stages: roommates before solo rent, certificate before degree, internship before career. Praise the step, not just the finish line. This mindset reduces shame and keeps momentum going. (It also matches how today’s young adults are actually sequencing adulthood.) 

4) Open doors (your network counts).

Who you know still matters. New Census information shows young people who start at a parent’s employer earn 24% more at their first job and are still ahead three years later. You don’t need to be a CEO to help; introductions to managers, union halls, faith-community leaders, or small-business owners can be rocket fuel.

5) Talk about money early and often.

Help your young adult build a basic budget, check their credit report, and compare rent-to-income ratios. If you can’t contribute cash, contribute wisdom: how to avoid junk fees, negotiate a phone plan, or read a pay stub. Small money wins build the confidence that precedes bigger steps like moving out or buying. (Again, the data shows economic milestones are leading the pack.)

6) Respect different timelines and keep hope high.

Lower marriage rates in the early and late 20s don’t mean “never.” Many catch up later, and plenty thrive on these flexible timelines. Your belief in their future matters, whether they’re 19 or 29. 

7) Watch well-being.

Transitions are stressful. Notice changes in sleep, mood, or motivation. Offer help finding a counselor, campus support, or community group. Solid mental health makes the rest of adulthood more reachable. 

The bottom line is today’s young adults aren’t failing at adulthood; they’re re-sequencing it. The new Census data shows fewer are doing everything at once, and more are securing work and housing first. Our job as parents, mentors, and neighbors is to help them build skills, find opportunities, and keep connections strong so the other milestones—marriage, parenting, homeownership if they choose them—are within reach.

My two-year-old thinks adulthood means getting to pick her own snack. My six-year-old thinks it means staying up past bedtime. Honestly? Some days that still tracks.

But with our steady support, our young adults can do more than “adult.” They can thrive.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

My brother and I had a lengthy conversation this week about mental health. We both work in what I’ll call “high-impact” jobs, though they seem worlds apart.

Some days, coping and processing the stress can feel like mental gymnastics, flipping and stretching the capacities of our mental health. 

According to a 2016 meta-analysis on mental health and families, the way we feel and deal with stress is part genetically inclined and part learned behavior. Does this mean we’re doomed from the start? 

Not at all, but the more you recognize your actions and identify thoughts and behaviors you’d like to shift, the more likely you can transform the cycle for yourself and others.

First, the genetics.

Think of genes like a blueprint, not a verdict. As I mentioned before, research on twins shows that depression and many anxiety disorders are partly inherited; roughly a third to a half of the risk comes from our DNA. That sounds scary until you remember the other half is about life, habits, and help. Genes can load the dice, but they don’t decide the roll.

Now, the relationships.

Kids learn how to “do” emotions and deal with stressful situations by watching us. When we name feelings, stay steady, and coach them through tough moments, kids tend to have fewer symptoms of anxiety and depression. When we’re harsh, dismissive, or always rush in to rescue, it can keep worries alive. One recent study even showed that a parent-only program where moms and dads learned how to respond more supportively and stepped back from “over-accommodating” reduced children’s anxiety as much as traditional child therapy. Parents matter (which is equal parts empowering and humbling, I know).

Stress can echo across generations, too.

Adverse Childhood Experiences, things like abuse, neglect, or living with a parent who’s seriously struggling, raise the risk for anxiety and depression later on. That doesn’t mean a child is doomed. It does mean safe, stable, nurturing relationships are medicine. The more we can make home predictable, warm, and firm-but-kind, the more we turn down the volume on risk.

And yes, the body keeps the score.

Here’s a simple illustration of how our genetics affect our mental health: life can act like a dimmer switch on our genes. Chronic stress can nudge some genes “brighter” or “dimmer” without changing the DNA code itself. That sounds heavy, but there’s hope in it—healthy routines, supportive relationships, and good skills to cope can move those dimmers back to bright.

So what do we do with all this?

If you’re struggling, start with you.

When a parent gets effective care, kids benefit. Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) has a strong track record for both depression and anxiety. If in-person sessions are hard to manage, ask your doctor about guided online CBT options. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about getting access to tools and using them.

Make feelings part of normal life at home.

Use simple, honest language: “My chest feels tight. I’m going to take three slow breaths—want to try with me?” Regular check-ins on a daily basis are helpful. Ask for one high, one low, and one gratitude at dinner and turn the conversation into a tiny support group. Programs that help parents talk openly about a parent’s depression or anxiety have been shown to improve how families function and how kids feel. Silence is scarier than the truth.

Help anxious kids by changing how you respond.

It’s natural to “save” a worried child from hard things: you email the teacher, cancel the sleepover, skip the tryouts. Sometimes that helps short-term, but it can feed anxiety long-term. A supportive stance sounds like, “I see you’re scared, and I know you can do hard things. I’m here to help you practice.” Step by step (and yes, sometimes with tears), kids build courage.

Protect the basics: sleep and movement.

Tired brains are cranky brains. Consistent bedtimes, phones out of bedrooms, and a calm wind-down routine help everyone. And regular movement like walking, biking, and dance parties in the kitchen, has real, measurable benefits for mood. You don’t need a gym membership to help your nervous system breathe.

Parent with warmth and structure.

The parenting style that research suggests works best is called authoritative: clear rules, consistent follow-through, and plenty of warmth. Think steady schedules, predictable consequences, and lots of affection. You can be kind and firm at the same time. (Honestly, that’s the secret sauce.)

If your family is in a hard spot today, please know help is available. For everyday support, reach out to your primary care clinician, your child’s pediatrician, or a trusted counselor. First Things First would love to help you through coaching and family support. You are not alone in this.

Here’s the heart of it: mental health issues such as anxiety and depression can echo through families, but echoes fade when we change the dynamics of the room. Awareness first. Skills help. Routines soothe. Relationships heal. Start small. Keep it kind. And celebrate every tiny win. Those are the bricks that create a stronger foundation in you and build a healthier next generation.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

A few days ago, my six-year-old came home from a playdate with shoulders sagging and tears in his eyes. “Nobody wanted to play with me today,” he said. In that moment, I was catapulted back to my own grown-up version of the same sting, learning about a meeting I wasn’t invited to.

Brains of every age register that exclusion as actual pain; functional MRI studies show the anterior cingulate cortex lighting up during social rejection just as it does when we stub a toe.

We like to think adulthood vaccinates us against playground politics, yet a meta analysis of 120 Cyberball experiments (a virtual ball tossing game researchers use to simulate ostracism) finds that even brief exclusion tanks self-esteem and mood in participants well past puberty.

The long-running Harvard Study of Adult Development echoes the cost: people who nurture warm relationships live longer, are happier, and stay mentally sharper—decades of data distilled to one sentence, “Good relationships keep us healthier and happier, period.” 

So what helps? First, call the feeling by its name. Neuroscientists argue that labeling an emotion recruits the thinking parts of the brain and lowers its intensity; it’s like dimming a harsh light.

Next, treat yourself with the same gentleness you’d offer a friend; a 2025 systematic review shows self-compassion cushions the blow of social media comparisons and other modern snubs.

Then take a small risk: send the “Miss you! Coffee soon?” text. People with about five dependable friends report the highest well-being, while those averaging barely three lag behind, according to a recent Australian survey on friendship and mental health. Building (or rebuilding) those five can start with one invite.

When our kids feel iced out, the script shifts from fixing to listening. Researchers tracking online peer rejection found that children bounced back fastest when they felt supported by parents or teachers. So I sit on the kitchen floor, eye level with my son, and say, “That sounds rough. Tell me everything.” Only after he exhales do we practice what he might say tomorrow: “Can I have a turn after Jason?” or, if need be, “That hurts. Please stop.” 

Remember, modeling is powerful; when children see or hear their parents experience rejection or feeling left out, and they see a healthy, action-oriented response, they learn that resilience is an action verb.

It can be tempting to try and hide our own “negative” or “hurtful” feelings from our children. But being open with them about what’s going on in our world and how we’re dealing with certain issues can build our connection with them and boost their confidence. Of course, it’s important these conversations remain age-appropriate.

Sometimes exclusion crosses the line into bullying. If your child’s stomachaches multiply or their spark dims, loop in the teacher early and document patterns. Often, though, the remedy is simpler: genuine connection. Last night, while my toddler built block towers, my son and I drew a “friend web” on scrap paper: classmates, cousins, and neighbors. These circles and lines reminded him (and me) how many doors can swing open when one seems shut.

Feeling left out is universal, but it doesn’t have to be terminal. Name it, tend to it with kindness, and reach out, whether you’re six or thirty-five.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

If you listen closely, you can already hear it—the zip of fresh backpacks, the crinkle of notebook wrappers, and the collective gasp of parents realizing the days of “popsicles for lunch” are numbered. Whether your child is brand‑new to kindergarten or a seasoned locker‑door slammer, a little prep now will save everyone tears.

Here are seven research‑backed ways to welcome the 2025‑26 school year:

1. Shift the Sleep Schedule…Tonight

Summer bedtimes have a way of sliding faster than a Slip ’N Slide. But sleep isn’t just beauty rest—it’s brain rest. The American Academy of Sleep Medicine recommends 9–12 hours for 6‑ to 12‑year‑olds and 8–10 hours for teens. Start rolling bedtime back by 15 minutes each night until you hit the target. Consistent bedtimes aren’t just good for grades; studies show they boost emotion regulation and behavior.

2. Reboot the Morning Routine

Practice makes peaceful. Do a “dry run” of the school‑day routine this week: set alarms, pack lunches, even drive the route. Younger kids love a timer challenge (“Can we get teeth brushed before the countdown ends?”). 

3. Meet the Teacher  Early

If your child’s campus offers an open‑house night or “popsicle on the playground,” go. Nervous systems calm dramatically when hallways morph from the unknown to the familiar. Snap classroom photos so younger kids can study them at home and build excitement.

4. Muscle‑Memory Academics: 20 Minutes a Day

Dust off library cards and math‑fact card decks. Twenty minutes of reading or a quick “grocery‑store math” game in the cereal aisle reactivates neural pathways dulled by the summer months. Think of it as stretching before the marathon—you’re preventing first‑week brain cramps.

5. Build a Homework Landing Zone

Pick one spot for backpacks, chargers, and permission slips—preferably near an outlet and far from the refrigerator. A simple cubby or wall‑mounted hook system turns “Mom, where’s my tablet?” into a non‑issue. Pro tip: post the year’s school calendar right above it so field‑trip forms never disappear.

6. Talk Feelings, Not Just Supplies

Back‑to‑school butterflies are real. Over dinner, try the three‑word check‑in: “Name one thing you’re excited about, one thing you’re nervous about, and one thing you’re curious about.” Normalize mixed emotions and brainstorm coping plans—deep breaths, doodle breaks, or a worry stone tucked in a pocket. When children feel heard, their cortisol falls and their confidence rises.

7. Celebrate the First Week—Whatever Happens

Plan a “High‑Low‑Buffalo” pizza night that first Friday. Everyone shares a high (best moment), a low (toughest moment), and a buffalo (random surprise). Rituals like this turn school into a family team sport and remind kids that mistakes are just detours on the learning road. 

Parents, your calm is contagious. If the crayons aren’t color‑coordinated or the monogrammed lunchbox never arrived, your kids will still learn, laugh, and grow this year. Model flexibility, keep humor handy, and remember: every August is a fresh invitation to shape not just scholars, but resilient human beings.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].

As a mom of two—I get it. Screens are everywhere. They’re helpful, entertaining, and sometimes, let’s be honest, the only reason we get to finish our coffee while it’s still warm. But as both a parent and the CEO of a nonprofit that helps strengthen families, I can’t stop talking about the effects screens have on our children and the future of our society as a whole.

In fact, new research shows that consistent screen use by children does more than just bolster a disconnect between parents and children; it actually shapes the way a child’s brain develops.

Here’s the heart of it: kids’ brains are still under construction. The early years are when neural connections are built at lightning speed. What they see, do, and interact with literally shapes how their brains grow. When screens take up too much time, other critical activities—like face-to-face conversations, imaginative play, or outdoor exploration—can get pushed aside. And that comes with consequences.

Research from the University of Cincinnati and Cincinnati Children’s Hospital found that children who use screens excessively tend to have lower development in parts of the brain responsible for language, self-regulation, and critical thinking. That means a child who’s spending hours each day swiping and tapping might struggle more with focus, finishing tasks, or expressing themselves clearly.

In fact, a National Institute of Health study showed that preschoolers who logged more than an hour of screen time a day (without parental involvement) had less white matter in their brains—white matter helps with learning and communication.

Translation: too much solo screen time can make it harder for kids to learn and connect with others.

And it’s not just about the brain scans. Pediatricians are seeing real-life effects too: increased irritability, sleep issues, delayed language development, and emotional outbursts—especially when it’s time to turn the screen off. Some even call this “post-screen tantrum syndrome.” If your toddler melts down the minute you hit pause, or your six-year-old zones out in front of the TV but bounces like a pinball after, you’re not alone. You’re seeing your child’s brain struggle to shift gears.

That said, this isn’t a guilt trip. Screens aren’t the enemy. They can be tools for learning and connection—especially when we use them together, not as babysitters. The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends no screen time for kids under 18 months (other than video chatting), and about one hour a day of high-quality programming for kids ages 2–5. But even more important than the number is the how.

Watching with your child, pausing to talk about what you see, and choosing programs that encourage imagination and problem-solving can make all the difference.

At home, my husband and I are trying to create what I like to call “tech-light” habits. We’re not perfect, but we aim for screens to stay off during meals, out of bedrooms, and off at least an hour before bedtime. And we’ve noticed that when we stick to it, our kids play better, sleep better, and honestly, we all connect better.

If you’re noticing big mood swings, trouble sleeping, delayed speech, or a preference for screens over people, it might be time to scale back and reset. That might feel hard at first—but kids are incredibly adaptable. When we give them more time to play, talk, run, and imagine, their brains will thank us. So will their future teachers, friends, and—someday—their own kids.

Screens are part of our world now. But they shouldn’t take over theirs.

Lauren Hall is the President and CEO of First Things First. Contact her at [email protected].