Prisoners of Our Own Devices

We write our articles somewhat in advance because of printing deadlines; therefore, I’m writing this only two weeks after the autumnal equinox. I love summer so much, and as we bid this one farewell, I was thinking about what some of the best moments of this one were for me, and although a trip to the beach came to mind immediately, one small thing kept coming back to me.

Sometimes on Friday afternoons, I go to Mass, and one Friday at the beginning of August, I ran into a friend there, Patti. We went to high school together. Although she’s a friend, she’s not one I talk to every week. Nevertheless, she invited me back to her house that afternoon at 4 o’clock, explaining that she often has a few people over for an hour or two on Friday afternoons before dinner just to relax and celebrate the arrival of the weekend. As it happened, I was able to go, and I sat on Patti’s patio with her, and two other high school chums, Donna and Carol. We had simple snacks and iced tea, and we just talked for more than two hours until it was time to go home for dinner. There were no selfies, no music, no one pulled out a phone; we just sat in the summer breeze and laughed, reminisced, and talked about what was going on in our lives.

I don’t know if it’s because we’ve been so starved for human contact because of the lockdowns that it made just spending time together that much more special, but that Friday afternoon was one of the best times of my summer.

That evening, my husband and I went out to dinner, and I noticed something that I hope is not a trend. There were two different families at the restaurant and each of them had a small child with them, but what I noticed was that each of those children, instead of sitting and talking to their family gathered around the table, they had headphones on and were absorbed into an iPad screen. I know some children have sensory issues and as someone who had twins, I know it can be rough dining out with children, but how do children learn good behavior if they can’t ever be bored? How do they learn to relate to others if their eyes are glued to a screen?

I’m not the only one who has noticed that kids are missing out on the here and now. A Twitter firestorm erupted right after that trip to the restaurant when a woman posted this Tweet: “At Disneyland with the family and probably 50% of toddlers are strapped in their strollers on iPads or phones. At Disneyland. We are so screwed.”

There’s a funny online meme of a group of people seated around a table, and they are all ignoring each other and focused on their cell phones. It has a caption that hearkens back to the lyrics from The Eagles song Hotel California, and it says, “The Eagles were right, we are all just prisoners here of our own device.”

We are coming up on Thanksgiving, and I urge you to rediscover the beauty of connecting with others. Don’t become a prisoner of your screen. Sure, I’m going to take a few photos when everyone gathers to commemorate the occasion, but then I’m going to set aside my phone.

That feeling of peacefulness and connectedness I experienced this summer on Patti’s patio doesn’t have to be a rare event. It can happen anytime you are gathered. After long periods of isolation in lockdown it’s time to unplug and reconnect with others. Thanksgiving is meaningless if we don’t acknowledge and appreciate those seated around our table. Happy Thanksgiving!