Caller Unavailable

 There was this tense exchange between my wife and I a few mornings back. It centered around the pervasive use of cell phones. I admit to being a bit defensive, since I feel as though I make an effort to put my phone away for chunks of time during the day. My phone is not welcome in my bedroom. This was my conscious choice some years back. I have a long and storied history with sleep challenges and I continue to feel that inviting a device with games and Internet connection into that hallowed space would be a mistake of unspeakable proportions. 

For me. 

That said, I cannot qualify myself as some sort of Luddite who eschews the use of cell phones except for emergency calls. I once stood on the ramparts of the no cell phones on campus battle and watched as we were overrun. Over the past few years, I have become part of a text thread within the walls of my elementary school that acts as both a means of dispatching help to classrooms that need it and a series of snarky comments that we would never say out loud in front of children. I am also available for the occasional call or text from home, when my wife needs to check in with me about some home emergency or other. My phone is set to vibrate, so I can peek at the relevance of whatever notification has been allowed to break my cone of silence. I try not to respond unless something is on fire. 

This puts me directly at odds with the prohibition we have put in place for kids at our school who will insist that their parents told them directly that they needed to carry their personal connection machine in their pocket at all times. Mister Caven does. 

Sigh. 

It's different when you're nine. The distractions with which I struggle as an adult are not likely to be ignored by someone who is still figuring out how to time their restroom breaks. Which is where most of the cell phone action takes place at our school these days. I'm tempted to sign up for TikTok first to see how many videos get posted using the Horace Mann bathrooms for a backdrop, and second to tell kids that I'm on TikTok. That should kill off any interest quicker than any kind of administrative mandate. 

And while I'm riding the hypocrisy roller coaster, I can still recall fondly when I was unavailable. I remember what being away was like: Three months every summer for the bulk of my youth, no phone, no electricity, no running water. Just the sky above and the earth below. My mother used to say that if we tried to do that with kids today, they'd call Child Protective Services. 

Things have changed a lot since then. 

For me.