Turn It Off

I’m typing this entry on a computer to be read on other computers. So the topic of this entry will likely seem a bit strange. It’s about reducing our dependency on computers.

I’m not saying this from the perspective of one who is uncomfortable with computers or who rarely uses them. I’ve used computers since the 1980’s. The first one was a 286. When you turned on the computer, you would be directed to the DOS prompt. There you typed in the name of the software program you wanted to use, hit enter, and watched as the black screen with the orange lettering slowly changed to the next screen.

My next computer was a 386, then a few years later, a 486. Over the years, the numbers went up dramatically and the computers were named. With each computer, I learned by trial and error how to use the upgraded or new programs. So it's safe to say that I’ve used computers for tens of thousands of hours.

Currently I have two computers. That started a few years ago in Indiana. Living with my mother, who in her nineties still used her computer, if I had a computer problem there wasn’t a helpful (and free ;-)) person around to figure it out. Having two computers enabled me to keep working on one while I figured out what was the problem on the other.

I mentioned at the beginning of this post that I’m typing this entry on a computer. There was a writing step before this. I wrote this entry yesterday with paper and pen, on a no-computer Sunday. It has been an interesting experience because writing is much slower on paper than on a computer. (Okay the typing has slowed down on this paragraph because one of the cats here, taken in at the death of a friend, is now on my lap and draped across my left arm with her paws elegantly crossed and covering part of the keyboard.)

I’ve been reading The Plain Reader, a collection of various essays that were previously published in Plain Magazine. The essays were written by Amish, Quaker, and other “plain folk.” The book is excellent by the way, and I strongly recommend it.

One of the essays, “deleting children” by Mary Ann Leiser eloquently put forth the view that teaching our children how to use computers at younger and younger ages is doing them a great disservice.

In a world that sings the praises of technology and competition, who we are and how we relate to our environment have largely been considered irrelevant. What matters is the economy (always growing), profit (at any cost), and globalization (even though in North America, we were already blessed with everything we needed). Now another group of victims in our mad race to the future is our very young children.

Parents, fearful their children will not be able to keep up with the neighbor’s children, enroll their children in preschools where the use of computers is taught to children only a few years old. Between television and computers, these children live in a virtual world. The real world, just outside their window goes by unnoticed. If a wise grandmother, remembering the wonders of nature from her childhood, tries to tempt her grandchildren to venture outside, they are shocked. “It’s dirty out there! And boring.”

We have allowed—and worse, encouraged—our children to become hooked into the technology machine. If you think I exaggerate, try taking a child’s cell phone away. Or wait till the television or computer goes off because of a power cut or the machine breaks. Both parents and children will be at a loss as they look at one another in the unchosen silence. Used to the flashing, constantly changing images on the screen (just look at the national evening news in the US or even the station breaks on PBS) and the barrage of computer-generated sounds, the blank screen and silent speakers make for an eerie discomfort. Hooked on technology we’re lost when we don’t have all our electronic aids.

Technology and competition are what parents with the means to do so are pushing on even their youngest children. Children are now supposed to excel at everything they do, to get the best grades, to land that choice job (and quickly), to own the biggest house on the block.

What is no longer stressed to our children? How to get along harmoniously with the environment and other people, discover what they love doing, share unconditionally with others, be caring grandchildren, do honest work that creates something of lasting value, and create a loving home.

We need to turn off our televisions and computers, take our young children by the hand, walk out the door, and look—slowly look—at the wonders of the real world around us.