Looking Out For Others

 This past Friday, my phone died. The one I carry in my pocket. The one that takes pictures of interesting things I encounter over the course of my day. The one that contains my contacts to the outside world. The one that sends and receives valuable messages about fifty percent off my next purchase of candles from Pier 1 Imports. The one that keeps me tethered to my coworkers via text through messages and associated memes.

The one that has all my personal time sinks. Like Beadle. And the omnipresent Candy Crush. Like checking the headlines. Messages on Twitter. Any sort of mild distraction that might take me briefly away from the emptiness of having nothing with which to fidget.

And suddenly I am reminded, by my wife, of those bygone days of yore when I proudly wore the badge of "I don't have a cell phone." 

Those times, sadly are passed. Now I find myself, as so many of us do, checking to see what my battery level is and what new intrusions into my quiet have been made since I checked four minutes ago.

Please understand that as an elementary school teacher, I am at a heightened level of awareness from seven in the morning to five o'clock at night, lest the slightest inattention to someone or something should cause more confusion and strife than normal.  Still, there are plenty of moments within my day that don't include some child or adult to have my full attention. It has been during those lulls that I find myself fishing my smart phone out of my pocket to do something dumb. To pass the time. 

This past Friday, this option did not exist. I returned to the public school employee I was before the great conditioning of my life via cellular telephones. I found myself rather than looking for a quiet spot to check my email, seeking out interactions. With kids. With parents. With fellow teachers. There were plenty times during the day that I felt the itch to tap or scroll through something, but I found that it got easier as I went on. This full attentive mode might just catch on.

Then again, I am fully ready to admit that I don't expect any sort of full-on conversion. So much of the business of our school's day takes place through text messages. The opportunity to have a world of information at your fingertips is something I find difficult if not impossible to resist. 

But putting my phone down more often would be a good thing. Keeping one more eye open for the chance to help out could not hurt. I'm not giving up Candy Crush. I am far too compulsive not to avail myself of its beauty and patterns. If I did miss an email here or there, I can always catch up at home. 

Where I can stare at my computer while my wife stares at hers.