I'm a high school teacher, and my school banned cellphones in the classroom. Every school should do the same.

• Last fall, the school where I teach decided to ban cellphones in the classroom.
• Students have to leave them in specific locations at the start of each class.

Last fall, as the school year resumed across the nation, the school I work at implemented a new cellphone policy.

In short, phones were banned in the classroom, not just in a "keep them out of sight" way, but by creating specific locations where students were required to leave their phones at the beginning of each class so their devices weren't near them.

This was met with some push-back from upperclassmen and parents, but overall, one month in, teachers and students agreed that the policy was effective in helping limit students' distractions and instead create learning environments conducive to focus and engagement.

Kids paid more attention

As the school year progressed, I paid attention to how the policy continued to impact my classes and students. I often had to remind students at the top of a lesson to place their cellphones in their assigned caddy, and some students slipped through this system, either by coming to class late or simply flying under my radar.

But all year, I repeated "phones in the caddy, please" without complaint because what I saw the rest of the period was worth it: kids with me as I explained that day's class, kids with each other even as the conversation felt tense while they discussed ethical dilemmas, kids with themselves — their own meandering thoughts — when, instead of sneaking a look at their phone under the desk, they sat still within the novelty of an undistracted moment and maybe even looked within.

Some of my favorite days were when, after class had ended, a student would pop back in five or 10 minutes later because they'd forgotten about their phone's existence. For certain students, this was no different than forgetting yesterday's assignment at home. But for others, they collected their phones with a different kind of sheepish grin: "Ms. B, I kind of forgot I even had a phone."

They enjoy not having their phones with them

And truly, when I asked students to respond this last spring about how they felt about the cellphone policy after experiencing it for a school year, their responses were nice to hear, too. Here are a few:

• "Although it might be a little inconvenient, I really enjoy the phone policy. It's easier for people to enjoy each other when they're not on their phones. When we can have our phones outside class, half the people are just sitting on their phones playing a game."
• "The phone policy is perfect. Not having notifications distract me every second makes me learn better. Outside class, I am normally on my phone and often use it to procrastinate, which doesn't help me get my work done, so I appreciate someone keeping me accountable to put my phone away when class starts."
• "To be completely honest, I think the phone policy is a really, really good and reasonable one. It has helped me to be focused and connected with my classmates, and the classroom dynamic is way better without phones."

I could drop 50 more responses that look like these. After reading them and after talking to my colleagues who reported the same observational results and remain enthusiastic about continuing our school's phone policy into its second year, for me, the question transformed from, "Did the policy work?" to "Why aren't all schools implementing a similar policy?"

Teens are already dealing with a lot

In talking to teachers across the country, the reasons phone policies don't work or are not implemented center on three main issues: safety (parents want their children to be reachable, especially during our era of heightened school violence), liability (phones are expensive, and in some districts, teachers have been held liable when they confiscated a phone the student later claimed was damaged), and lack of clear, consistent policy support (it can be difficult to rally an entire staff around a policy, maintain energy for its consistent enforcement, and make sure the work of its enforcement is upheld equitably).

Those are understandable concerns. It's also true that phones and related technologies are things today's teenagers will have to learn to grapple with — without the accountability of a phone caddy — in their imminent futures.

However, if you're a teacher, administrator, parent, or just someone who cares about the experience of young people in your community, I urge you to think beyond these concerns — What if they complain? What if I can't reach them? What if it doesn't work? — and take a few moments to reread what my students wrote above.

What I hope you notice is that their feedback is rooted in appreciation.

You've probably heard teenagers are dealing with a lot these days: the negative effects of social media, rising rates of anxiety and depression, plus the age-old pressures associated with growing up.

When teens tell us they appreciate adults being adults, we should listen and then act by instigating some boundaries for them around their phones in the classroom. They might not say "thank you" in front of their friends, but then again, they might.

In my experience, teens say all kinds of interesting things when they set their phones aside, lean forward, and start talking.