If you asked a child, “What would you most like to do today?”, the answer would most likely include the name of an app, a game, or a platform. This is neither the child’s nor the family’s failure. On the contrary, it is an inevitable reflection of the world we are growing up in. But is simply being aware of this reflection enough to change it?
Through the Sustainable Technological Adaptation Project (SETAP), the workshops we conducted for weeks with middle school students in Ataşehir offered us something far more valuable than an answer to this question: the opportunity to think about it together.
Not Just Providing Information, But Creating Experiences
Before beginning the workshops, one of our biggest questions was this: How effective is it to simply explain the harms of screen time to children? Research and our observations pointed to the same reality: there is a deep gap between knowing and acting. A child may know that a phone distracts attention, but that knowledge alone is not enough to make them put it down.
That is why we built the SETAP workshops not on theoretical warnings, but on tangible experiences. Hands drawing imaginary forests with pastel colors, children wrapping yarn around cardboard to create entirely original designs, and classrooms filled with laughter alongside a therapeutic clown—none of these activities repeated the message that “screen time is harmful.” Instead, they demonstrated something much more meaningful: there is also a world beyond the screen that can inspire you, engage you, and make you smile.
This distinction may seem small, but it is extremely important. Telling children “don’t do this” leaves a void. The real function of our workshops was to help fill that void.
Not Opposing Technology, But Becoming Conscious Partners
One of the most important things we learned during the SETAP process was that we could go much further when we did not position technology as an enemy. Replacing “Put your phone away” with “Let’s try this now” removed resistance. While examining Rousseau’s forest paintings, hearing children say in surprise, “But he never actually saw these forests!” reminded us of how powerfully imagination can function independently from screens.
During the sustainable design workshop, one student, after seeing used materials transformed into new products, said: “So just because something ends doesn’t mean its purpose is over.” That sentence captured the spirit of the workshop more accurately than anything else discussed that day.
Children teach us; we simply prepare the stage.
Awareness Does Not Arrive Overnight
Another important lesson we gained throughout the workshops was patience. Neither children’s screen habits change through a single workshop, nor are parents’ concerns fully resolved in one seminar. Change happens when small shifts begin to accumulate.
One student struggled to stay seated during the first week, yet in the following weeks became the child who could focus for the longest period. A group that initially seemed shy during the therapeutic clown workshop soon found themselves at the center of a room filled with laughter. Witnessing these moments reminded us why SETAP was never just a “project.” What was truly happening was a gradual transformation in the relationship children were building with themselves.
What SETAP Taught Us
SETAP workshops began with the intention of teaching children something, but along the way we realized that this journey was mutual. After each workshop, our own understanding became clearer: technology literacy is not simply about a list of “what not to do.” The real goal is to help children recognize, question, and reshape their relationship with technology whenever needed.
We might call this digital autonomy. And this autonomy begins to grow quietly—in the focused silence of a child drawing their imaginary forest with pastel colors, or in the curious eyes of another child looking at the very first product they created from recycled materials.
The workshops may have ended, but those seeds have already begun to grow.