Some people fear global warming.
Others worry about the economy.
Me, I worry about isolationism.
Not the kind of isolationism that my high
school history teacher talked about. I worry about people living in this ever
more connected world, and yet becoming more and more distant because of gadgets
that isolate them.
My grandmother grew up with in a home
where the family read books like Peck's
Bad Boys in the evenings together.
In my father’s childhood, when the family
wanted music, they all played band instruments together around the piano.
In my childhood, my family took rides to the canyon or long road trips with five kids playing games together in the back of a station wagon. For lunch, we opened the tailgate and made sandwiches and mom plugged the baby bottle warmer into the cigarette lighter.
There was a time when family life was a
communal experience. Everyone in the
family had the same memories, could laugh about the same funny experiences, and
commiserate over the same misadventures. (Like buying a block of ice in St.
George, wrapping it in a towel and letting kids take turns holding the ice to
keep cool as we crossed the Nevada desert to get to the beach in the days
before we had a car with air conditioning.)
Not only did we share memories, we shared
each other. Families really did know
each other when they had to spend time actually talking.
Today, I see kids with their own movie screen
in the back seat, each with headphones and unaware of what is going on with
their sibling in the next seat. Instead of family music, everyone has his or
her own play list and personal device to keep them pacified. Families take trips, but they have become
electronic voyages with games, gadgets and gizmos to make sure no one has to
talk to someone else. What shared
memories will they have? When they are
80 years old, what will they talk about with their siblings? Aren't families supposed to be more than a
way to keep children fed until kids can move out and pay their own cell phone
charges?
Social development is an important part of
childhood. Learning to enjoy the company of who you are with and get along with
others is a big deal. My nephew took a
girl on a prom date and later complained that she was on her cell phone through
half of dinner. I guess she had better
people to talk to than him.
I went to the movies and sat behind a row
of teenagers who each spent most of the time checking text messages. Apparently being with your friends at a movie
isn't entertaining enough.
I
watched a bride-to-be at her own wedding shower feel the need to pull out her
phone several times to send text messages to people other than the group who
took a Saturday afternoon to bring her gifts.
I
watched teenagers at a large party. At
any given time, twenty per cent were on the phone. They were already around lots of friends, but
it looked like the grass is always greener somewhere else, and many kids passed
up the chance to talk to the people they were already with, hoping to find
something more interesting somewhere else.
It is not just teenagers who can't love
the one they are with. I see parents
with small children eating out, or in the park.
Whomever dad is talking to must be important, because kids don't get a
word from him.
I worry that there will be a whole
generation of clueless young people who have unknowingly cut themselves off
from the things that really matter. They
will miss watching the countryside flow by their window and learning that other
places are different than home. They
will miss long talks with mom. They will
miss discovering the links between generations that come only from listening.
They will be oblivious to what is going on in the world around them and in
their families because their eyes are always down, their thumbs are in constant
motion, and their ears are constantly plugged.
I suspect that whether these electronically equipped kids were in a
closet or in the Grand Canyon wouldn't make any difference as long as the tunes
and texts keep coming.
It’s a strange world. Communication
opportunities have never been greater, yet people seem less equipped than ever
to know how to enjoy the company of the person sitting next to them. When
you are with your kids, make sure they know that you really do love the one
your with by talking to them. All those
folks on the phone can wait. Childhood
disappears in a blink and you don’t want to miss it.
©
Diane L. Mangum 2008