Walk across any college campus today, and you’ll notice a familiar sight: students glued to their phones, even when walking in groups. Laptops and tablets have become essential lunch partners, and earbuds are almost a permanent fixture. In classrooms, many sit silently absorbed in their devices before class begins.
This scene, however common, proved exasperating for Seán Killingsworth, a 22-year-old former University of Central Florida student. During his sophomore year, he found himself questioning, “What kind of life am I signing up for?” He felt like he was constantly interacting with “a bunch of zombies.”
Sean longed for a space where he could genuinely converse with his peers without feeling like an interruption. This wasn’t a new challenge for him; in high school, he frequently organized phone-free gatherings with friends to foster deeper connections.
So, why not bring that same concept to college?
In 2023, Sean successfully introduced the idea of dedicated phone-free social time to two Florida campuses: the University of Central Florida (U.C.F.) and Rollins College. He named this initiative the Reconnect Movement. The core rule is simple: during meetings, all participants must surrender their phones to a “phone valet” who securely stores them away in a backpack, ensuring a truly distraction-free environment. This straightforward concept quickly attracted a large number of students seeking more meaningful interactions. Since then, the Reconnect Movement has expanded to six schools across four states. Furthermore, in September, it branched out beyond university settings, organizing public phone-free events in New York, with plans to expand to Orlando and Tampa, open to anyone interested in disconnecting to reconnect.
The surging popularity of Reconnect aligns perfectly with a broader cultural shift in how both adults and adolescents view smartphones and social media. There’s a growing desire for balance and genuine interaction.
While it’s challenging to definitively prove a direct causal link, many experts have raised concerns about the potential mental health risks associated with excessive digital media use. These concerns coincide with a rise in loneliness, anxiety, and depression among young people. Initiatives like “Wait Until 8th” and popular books such as Jonathan Haidt’s “The Anxious Generation” have resonated strongly, especially with parents. Simultaneously, new legislation is emerging across the country to restrict or ban phone use in public schools.
Many student-led movements advocate for complete phone abstinence, but Sean Killingsworth’s Reconnect Movement takes a different approach. It doesn’t pressure students to fundamentally alter their relationship with technology. Instead, its goal is to establish what Sean describes as “human connection habitats” – environments specifically designed to foster interaction, making the need for personal willpower to disconnect almost obsolete.
Sean acknowledges that the core idea isn’t entirely new, but he emphasizes that novelty isn’t the point. “Generation Z needs a normal that we’ve never experienced,” he asserts, highlighting the need for foundational human interaction in a digitally saturated world.
Building a ‘Human Connection Habitat’
On a recent humid afternoon, almost 40 students convened at the University of Central Florida’s arboretum for the inaugural Reconnect meeting of the fall semester. After entrusting their devices to the “phone valet,” they settled onto patchwork blankets, ready to spend a full hour screen-free.
With reggae tunes from the band Stick Figure playing softly from a CD player, students gradually started making eye contact and engaging in casual conversation. The atmosphere was reminiscent of social gatherings from two decades ago, a refreshing departure from the norm.
Mia Shaffner, 20, the U.C.F. club president, notes that students often feel initial discomfort. She describes phones as “digital pacifiers” that peers instinctively reach for when feeling uneasy. However, by the end of each session, she observes a transformation: students get to know one another and discover that genuine conversation is “not really as difficult as they think it is.” Mia herself values the quality of conversations and connections made at Reconnect, finding them hard to replicate elsewhere.
Mia initiated the meeting by asking the group to introduce themselves and share a high point and a low point from their week. Taylor Radtke, 20, the club’s social media coordinator, who had contributed homemade brown butter M&M cookies, excitedly recounted her high: getting a tattoo of a striped cat in boots and a cowboy hat, complete with a lasso – a tribute to her cats, Bandit and Lucky, back in Wisconsin.
This unique story later became a perfect icebreaker when students began chatting one-on-one.
“It led me to share about my other tattoos, their meanings, and from there we got to talking about each other’s interests and their own pets,” Ms. Radtke explained. “You never know what you might have in common when you truly engage.”
Reconnect activities vary; sometimes members enjoy a hike followed by a cookout, while other meetings involve collaborative art projects or meditation sessions, especially popular during stressful finals periods.
On this particular day, the focus was simply on conversation. Students also enjoyed homemade cookies while introducing themselves.
Daniel Lindemann, an 18-year-old freshman, remarked that the club “forces me to not stay in my dorm and eat food and rot in bed.” He joined Reconnect with the personal goal of meeting four new people daily, a feat he finds much easier without digital distractions.
When asked if he had encountered any other environments where his peers weren’t engrossed in their phones, Daniel paused, reflecting.
“Not really,” he admitted.
Navigating the Social ‘Wasteland’
Across campus, where students often find themselves absorbed in screens and digital devices, opportunities for genuine, real-life connection can be easily overlooked.
Isabella Ortiz, 18, a freshman biotechnology major, joined Reconnect specifically to forge new friendships. She recounted a recent, unsuccessful attempt to engage with another student on campus. “I like your hair,” she’d said, but the other student, wearing headphones, remained oblivious.
Isabella feels that everyone at school, herself included, is perpetually online. She’s attempted to delete social media platforms in the past, acknowledging that “it hasn’t been very successful.”
Sean himself experienced a period of compulsive phone checking, describing a “constant 24-7 feeling that I need to be on: I’m feeling a notification. That’s an email. I need to respond to that at some point.”
Social media comparisons were particularly detrimental, leaving him feeling inadequate. He noted, “Snapchat made me more self-conscious about my appearance than I’d ever been before,” and Instagram, filled with clips of impressive skateboarders, made him feel like he “didn’t measure up.”
Ultimately, he deleted his social media accounts and transitioned to a flip phone, convinced that smartphones hindered him from living “in a happy way.” In a speech last fall, Sean passionately warned that phones “weaken and destroy” social ecosystems, starkly labeling Generation Z’s social environment a “wasteland.”
However, not all experts agree with such a stark assessment. Psychologist Candice L. Odgers and other scholars have questioned whether digital media is truly the “boogeyman” it’s often portrayed to be. She suggests that increased social media use might actually be a symptom of existing depression or anxiety, rather than the cause. Dr. Odgers also highlights that these platforms can offer unique avenues for self-expression and connection for many individuals.
When teenagers themselves are asked about device usage, many express enjoyment in taking breaks. A 2023 study by the Pew Research Center revealed that approximately three-quarters of teens felt happier or more peaceful without their smartphones. Yet, paradoxically, over 40 percent also admitted to feeling anxious, upset, or lonely when separated from their phones.
At the end of a Reconnect meeting, Sofia Brunetta, the club’s vice president, carefully returns everyone’s phones, signaling the return to the digital world.
Despite this, Sean Killingsworth observed that once phones are set aside at Reconnect gatherings, participants’ anxiety levels typically decrease, paving the way for more relaxed and meaningful interactions.
By the end of the following year, Sean anticipates that 11 new Reconnect chapters will be established across high schools, colleges, and cities, demonstrating the widespread interest in the movement. However, despite its growing appeal, the concept of a completely phone-free club remains a significant hurdle for some students.
During a recent U.C.F. meeting, a young woman, intrigued by the group, approached to learn more. But when Sean offered to “valet” her phone, she visibly hesitated.
“I thought you just didn’t use it — I didn’t know you took it away,” she explained, before deciding, “I think I’m just going to go.” This moment underscores the profound attachment many students have to their devices, and the bold, yet challenging, nature of the Reconnect Movement’s mission.