tech support
August 26, 2015 § 4 Comments
It was a predictable problem. Take one new student, place them in the company of children navigating the distractions of online social media, and you have crocodile tears and a self-righteous indignation for the contemporary convenience of cell phones in the unstructured space of the school day.
Today I listened as my daughter made a case for banning cell phones from her school. I paid close attention to her self-awareness when she acknowledged it would be worse to be the girl who took away everyone’s phone than it would be to sit ignored. I waited as she circled sadness and frustration for her to sound out the core of her unhappiness and then I invited someone wiser to offer a new perspective.
Given the source of my daughter’s unhappiness I holstered my phone, resisted the ease of e-mail and returned to school. Mom to educator and administrator, I asked for suggestions to ease the loneliness of our transition. In the space of a half hour we considered how technology use can sometimes be misunderstood; that a child disappearing into a screen may want an excuse to look up. We also considered that it is easier to assume “everyone” is using tech than it is to search out those who aren’t, but we balanced these possibilities by acknowledging the emotions of feeling ignored or left out then brainstorming active ways my daughter can facilitate a more rewarding experience with support.
Tomorrow my daughter is going to purposefully look for peers who aren’t online and she’s going to be more tolerant of those who exercise the choice to connect in a way different from hers. She’s going to hold tightly to her choice, but she’s going to respect other’s right to choose differently. More important than arguing policy from a perspective biased by a singular opinion on a difficult day, she is learning how to advocate for her needs in a way that makes happiness a product of her actions rather than a reflection of her environment. She is learning how to ask for help and how to extract insight from obstacles.
My children are growing up at a time when technology and social experiences are creating new lessons in communication. It is unreasonable to eliminate technology and irresponsible to make it a scape goat for accountability. It is a learning moment.
Tonight I’m thankful for complicated choices that invite greater consciousness for how we use technology and for the individuals who support us in real-time, offline.
cart & horse
October 21, 2014 § 6 Comments
There is a moment within a disagreement where communication comes unbuckled and you realize no one is driving, the wheels are broken and the horse is unbound. Words become reactionary and too often driven by factors tangentially related to the discontent we give voice. Underlying assumptions, old insecurities, irrational fears and distracted attentiveness are as problematic as tired bodies and tender emotions that clog our ears with defensive posturing and misinform our speech.
For years I clung to a utopian assumption that within a healthy relationship disagreements are polite, opinions are equal, there is no victor only validation. I craved a submissive discontent where I could avoid arguments for the sake of an emotional equilibrium. My children, similarly, burrow against disharmony. The sound of raised voices and the volley of disagreement wears against their faith in an impossible standard of love.
It is ironic then that in marriage and motherhood I have learned to wade into discontent with a headstrong indignation and stubborn persistence for forgiveness. Home is my safe place to error, to demand a voice with the same accountability I must apologize. I have become bolder, sometimes recklessly so; at times overlooking a loved one’s perspective in search of validation, missing opportunities to care for another while tending to my own emotions. Too often the idea I want so desperately to share becomes secondary to how I communicate; unbuckling the message with emotion.
I am writing today mindful of the mixed blessing and privileged burden of voice; giving thanks for the ability to disagree with love.
In our home love is messy, we error uncomfortably and with a consequence of care. Our disagreements underscore our fallibility as well as our convictions. Our apologies are greater than our words, they are a promise to love and respect one another with a wholeness that acknowledges the brokenness of imperfect individuals.
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