This was written by a friend of mine who wants to remain anonymous. It really says something about relationships today.
FOR MY DAUGHTER
Today, I took away texting. It was very painful, mostly for me but I realized that my daughter’s approval was far less important than her future and since it is my job to help her realize her potential and not enhance the muscles that strengthen the use of her thumbs….I thought it was time.
As I walk the halls of the school where I work, I see what everyone sees when they walk down any hall of any school and that is people, texting other people, while they walk together. Its a new kind of parallel play.
It used to be that parallel play served as a precursor for social interaction and next to one another, children would play with blocks or dolls and they would listen in a sort of subconscious way to each other, learning to connect. Now, parallel play means that people (not just children or young adults) walk the hallways of schools or the malls or lets be honest, their homes, texting other people.
Other people. Somebody else. Why aren’t we happy with who is in front of us or next to us? What is happening to our abilities to see each other for who we are in an interactive way that actually requires speaking? I mean, I love to speak. Ask me a question.. I am dying to answer it or avoid it with language; it doesn’t matter, I just want to talk.. but nobody wants to talk anymore. What we want now are just words. In writing. Big words, little words, made up words that weren’t ever words until we opted out of talking and now, words and non words are everything and language is shortened to a one syllable grunt that has no sound or expression.. it is powered by our ability to type fast, it doesn’t ask us to reach into our emotions and sound like we mean it, since nobody is listening.
So, I took the guess work out and left the praying up to somebody else on this. I took away texting and I am hoping that the satanic jerk at Verizon, who told me that 6000 texts a month is my fault, has a seizure and needs to use sign language for the rest of his life. And my daughter, will need to speak.
I will enjoy her sweet, melodic, screaming voice, utter words. She will speak with power or hesitation or indifference or passion, but she will speak and her friends, her dear, text driven addicts, will have to speak back to her.
It will be a blessing.
I love you. And I will love you harder than anyone you will ever know.
Your Mom
