A Simple Wish

In the course of talking with a number of students the other night, our conversational meanderings arrived at the topic of retreats. Upon my reference to the Spiritual Exercises– the Holy Cross version spans five days, features several talks each day by chaplains and guest directors, includes daily spiritual direction, and occurs in an atmosphere of intentional silence– those students who had made the retreat generally praised it, while those who had not generally stressed their anxiety about the silence, or even claimed near-certain knowledge that they would be incapable of quieting themselves for a week. Yet one student in the latter category swiftly added, "You know, we're all secretly looking for a chance to stop and breathe."

Last night, I attended a standing-room-only talk delivered by a sociology professor from MIT who studies the impact of technology on society. Sherry Turkle, officially the Abby Rockefeller Mauzé Professor of the Social Studies of Science and Technology (whew... my fingers need a break), shared an array of comments and themes drawn from her most recent book, Alone Together, which I would recommend on the basis of its intriguing inquiry into the effects of social media and communication technologies upon social and relational concepts (and experiences) of relationship, intimacy, and connection (as well as their converses). Though some members of the audience– most of them first-year students who had been examining her material in the context of various courses and seminars– may have interpreted her remarks as being highly critical of Facebook, Twitter, and other increasingly ubiquitous elements of the cultural and communicative landscape of certain segments of society, her intent was clearly the identification of serious and crucial questions regarding our usage of such technologies.

In a deliberate connection with the Turkle talk, these same first-year students are being invited and encouraged (yet not truly required) to refrain from texting, tweeting, using Facebook, and so on for a 24-hour period beginning around sundown this evening. Professors associated with the College's first-year program are providing them with small notebooks– bearing the word "Connections" on their covers– to write down their musings, experiences, and reflections as they communicate and interact without the influence of digital media. For myself, awareness of this event, as well as my own continuing reflections on Turkle's book, are leading me to strongly consider incorporating a similar measure into my observance of Lent this year; perhaps a Sunday devoid of Internet and cell phone usage, replaced with reading, writing letters, and intentional interpersonal interactions, for example.

In any event, it's my hope and desire that the students who choose to "disconnect" this evening and tomorrow are indeed able to "stop and breathe," but also to do much more. I hope that, in stepping back from the technology that so often surrounds them, they can see it as a suite of tools and capabilities that are valueless in themselves, but capable of supporting incredibly constructive and gravely destructive goals and behaviors. I hope that they can better recognize their own intentionality and agency– not merely in technology usage, but also in how they choose to interact with the world and its people, how they experience prayerful or meditative solitude, and how they devote their attention, their time, and their talents. These are questions that can't be fully examined, let alone answered, in a single day. Yet I hope such lines of inquiry are further opened by, and sustained long after, this experiment in "disconnection" and its inherent opportunities to explore methods of real connection.