Every experiment begins with a problem...
PART I: PHOTO-FREE
It all began when I was helping one of my daughters with her social studies project. She was asked to puzzle together a photographic timeline. This timeline had to consist of 15 significant events across the span of her life thus far. In order to receive a top mark, she had to include a representative picture with each of the 15 events. We had 11 years to work with and she was so excited because she knew that I photographed every significant moment in her life. 15 photos should be a piece of cake. When we sat down to search through photos for project material, something became glaringly apparent. I photograph every moment of our lives, significant or otherwise. I love taking pictures. The good thing about this is that I have pictures of everything. The bad thing about this is? I have pictures of everything. When you have pictures of everything, it can take a very long time to find the picture of that "one birthday" or that "single event", and even when you do find that one single event, the selection process is difficult because you have dozens and dozens of pictures to choose from for that one single event. We all took a break from what now became the draining activity of finding pictures, we stood back, looked at all of the albums (and the picture only shows half of them), and all of the 2000+ pictures I have on the computer and phone and one of the girls said, "Mom. Do you ever think that you might take too many photos? Isn't 2000 photos too many?"
It sounded like the beginning of an intervention. This experiment is as much a self-intervention as it is just an experiment. I am not a collector of things. I have the opposite problem of hoarding, I have a compulsion to let things go. I don't like to keep things. If there is not a place for an item, I get rid of it. If I don't have a free shelf or drawer, I need to purge. I am constantly de-cluttering stuff but I can't get rid of photos. Not only can I not get rid of them but I feel the need to print all of the photos I take because ultimately, I do not fully trust the clouds and the little tiny memory cards and microchips to store my memories forever, but I need to learn to take less pictures. Otherwise, I will be that person on the news who is buried in photos. I need to purge some of my digital photos. I can't purge photos if I am constantly taking them. Can I go 30 days without taking a single picture? I'm sure I can, but what will that feel like? Therein lies the experiment.
My parameters: No pictures. UNLESS, it is medically necessary or necessary to document something for legal reasons, or some other very unusual event that requires photographic documentation. I cannot take pictures of sunsets, beautiful clouds, turtles crossing the street, my kids and their newest adventures in the kitchen, their newest clever creations, their beautifulness. I cannot take a picture of our adventures or the crazy mess my dogs make, the scrumptious new meal I made, or the best cup of café con leche on this side of South Florida. I cannot take pictures of my yard, or the serenity of the ocean or anything...for 30 days. Just 30 days. No, I cannot take pictures to share with others the ordinary, extraordinary, or completely unordinary moments of my life. I have to keep these moments to myself, in my memory alone. I can write about them in a journal, drawing a picture only with words, only for me. I must use this time to delete photos and finish printing the consolidated library. I am already having anxiety about this experiment. and then this happened...
PART II: PHONE-LESS
First, I have to say that just one child brought about this three part experiment. Just one child can create the in-your-face moment that brings about the need to experiment with your memories and your own phone dependency. My oldest just entered middle school. Apparently, "EVERYONE! EVERYONE!" in middle school has a phone. Now, I know this is absolutely not true because I pick up one of her friends every day and this friend is also part of the "No Phone Club". My daughter's rebuttal, "EVERYONE besides me and (friend) have a phone." This is also not true but you see where her mind is. And by phone, I mean smart phone. My daughter has a TracFone, oh, but please don't tell anyone because she tells me it is MORE embarrassing to have a pay-as-you-go-flip TracFone than it is not to have a phone at all. She tells me that she hopes there is never an emergency because she hopes she never has to take that phone out...ever!
I explain to her, I understand that a lot of kids have phones but I want her to get her bearings in middle school before I saddled her with one of the most time-wasting pieces of technology to ever be invented...ever! I consider the delay in gratification to be a gift, an opportunity, she considers it a curse. I want her to learn what she has in common with people, to learn about people's characters and hobbies before they become texting friends and then maybe that is all they will have in common...ever! I want her to learn how to carry herself before she assumes the smart phone slouch. I just want her to have more free time. Is this so horrible? To her, yes, it is. I heard the words that I used to say to my mother, "You just don't understand." I told her I DID understand but I still feel strongly that we should wait for a while longer. What I didn't tell her was that her Dad and I had talked privately about seeing how her first semester goes in middle school and then possibly getting her a "real" phone half way through this year. She has only been in middle school for two weeks and we have had the smart phone talk almost every single day. I told her it had to stop. She can't wear me down (but I feel worn down). I told her she has to take a break from sulking about it and asking us about it every day. She said, "Maybe you would understand if you didn't have a phone or even if you couldn't use your phone to text people or see them on facebook. It's the way everyone talks now, Mom. you just don't get it." I do get it but I think they start this "tech talking" too early and they forget how to really talk, too early. However, I do not want to talk about her smart phone deprivation everyday and she did make a very good point about my phone dependency. So, I proposed an idea to her.
Will she stop hounding us for a smart phone if I use my phone less for a month, to see what it might feel like to be her. I have only had a smart phone for a few years and super smart phone for only a few months but I might have forgotten what it was like to not have a smart phone at all. "How much less?", she asks.
My parameters: I will only use my phone in the capacity I have asked her to use her Tracfone. I will only use my phone for emergencies. I will not check my emails from my phone. I will not use my phone for the internet, or facebook. I can check texts but can only respond to emergencies or carpool notices. Everything else will have to wait until I can get to a computer or to my home phone. Right now, I am very thankful I never did get started on Instagram, or Pinterest, or Twitter, or any other social media outlets. I do not play games on my phone and I am already vowing not to take pictures for 30 days. Actually, opting out of full phone usage for a month will make the photo-free part of this experiment that much easier. I can use my phone to delete photos and can use only one app...Groovebook...to print photobooks after I have fully consolidated my photo library by at least a third. I have anxiety about the texting responses because, she is right, this is the way people communicate now. This is the way friends let you know there is a spontaneous get together or there is something you need to bring to the meeting, or the way they let you know that they will be late for pick-up or drop-off. It is, sadly, even the best way to reach my husband. Texting is fast, easy, silent, and efficient. I already know texting will be the most challenging part of this experiment for me. I will run the risk of seeming rude but I will do it to try to empathize with my daughter.
PART III: LESS TECH
While I am going photo-free and phone-less, I might as well just cut back on technology altogether. It will be like a cleansing of sorts. Why? Why not?
My parameters: I can only check emails twice a day. I can use my computer to pay bills as the arrive. I can use the internet to find directions or help kids with their homework. I can only watch one hour of TV per day. TV will be easy. The internet will be a great big ugly challenge. I love the internet. The internet is where I find my news, where I research things to do or new recipe inspiration. Now, I will have rely on mainstream newspapers, my dusty old cookbooks, and Fodor's, and the library. I could just opt out of keeping current on news, I could just cook by heart, and I could just find things to do by word-of-mouth, by just getting in the car and driving... the old school way. I won't be able to share my life on Facebook. Back to journaling I go...Should be interesting...
Accountability: My youngest daughter is in charge of monitoring my adherence to these parameters. She is a tough cookie and will no doubt hold me accountable. If I am caught taking pictures or using technology or my phone outside of these parameters, she will issue me a ticket. I don't know what the fine is but I don't plan on finding out.
This experiment is going to be an experiment in prioritizing, de-cluttering, letting go, delayed gratification, and empathy. Wish me luck.
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