It used to be a sea of faces.

Now it’s rows of top head hair, faces looking down at the device in the hand, iPhones in the classroom.

When I was still teaching, maybe thirty years ago, a dictum came from the Principal’s Office, one of the few best things she ever did: “No cellphones in the classroom.”

So then there weren’t any. We enforced the rules. Even I did. For me, that’s really saying something.

Maybe only once, a kid was looking at his phone, and I took it, put it in my desk drawer, and at recess took it across to the office where it was tagged and joined the few others.

I made the pronouncement to the student in front of the whole class, chanting the mantra:

“Your phone is in the office. You may pick it up after school, accompanied by your parents who will sign the release, verifying their commitment to a course of behavior modification lasting six weeks. If your parents do not arrive before school closes for the day, the phone will be placed in the school safe, incommunicado, until the end of the semester, at which time you and your parents must appear and sign the release forms, a loyalty oath, and a detailed path of future compliance. If this does not take place, for any reason whatsoever, your phone will be donated to charity. You may bring your phone to school for emergencies only, available for recreational use at recess on the playground. Otherwise, the phone must remain in your pocket or purse, whichever applies.”

Needless to say, though I’m saying it, from that day forward there were no phones out in my classroom. Instead, the students had to sit there and listen to me, and try to stay awake.