Tweeting. Texting. Messaging. Friending. Skyping.
Technology has brought people together when they couldn鈥檛 be further apart. Yet it has also pushed people apart when they couldn鈥檛 be closer together. It鈥檚 not that we鈥檝e become less interested in each other, but rather less capable of paying attention to each other. That鈥檚 because our attention is being divided--if not dominated--by whatever gadgets are within our grasp, giving new meaning to the term 鈥渄igital divide.鈥�
And even when common courtesy tells us to focus on the people in our presence, many of us 肠补苍鈥檛 do it. That鈥檚 right, 肠补苍鈥檛 do it. The lure of technology is so strong that we鈥檙e unable to resist it. As a school leader, for example, I noticed teachers responding to my emails during class. This wasn鈥檛 because I had a drop-everything-for-the-boss policy. In fact, I expected teachers to ignore almost anything that could distract them from their students. Yet there they were hitting send just moments after my emails had arrived.
Why did they do this? Inbox anxiety. If it鈥檚 in there, you鈥檝e gotta get rid of it--NOW. The problem is so acute for some of us that we not only disengage from students but also risk the wrath of our supervisors. (No, teachers did not incur my wrath. How could I be mad when I suffer from inbox anxiety too? But we did talk about it, and agree that something had to change.)
The effects of this digital divide are also evident at meetings and workshops, where some people pass the time by texting, emailing, or surfing. Others participate 21st century style by tweeting sound bites for the benefit of their online PLNs (Personal Learning Networks). This is great in theory but, contrary to what we may want to believe, humans aren鈥檛 great multi-taskers. So, by the time you鈥檝e knocked out 140 characters on a smartphone or tablet, you鈥檝e probably missed other tweetable moments. One repercussion of this--which I鈥檝e experienced as participant and presenter--is people repeating each other鈥檚 comments or asking questions that have already been answered. Come on everyone, of course we should cultivate and learn from our online PLNs, but let鈥檚 not forget about our onsite ones.
So, how can we be sure to only plug in at the right time and the right place? Well, if you 肠补苍鈥檛 resist a temptation, you need to remove that temptation. A moratorium on mobile devices?! No, but there are times when engaging with students and colleagues requires disengaging from those devices.
Still, left to our own devices, how many of us are going to disengage from our devices? That鈥檚 why I, for one, can always use a reminder. This summer I took part in a coaching and leadership institute put on by , an organization founded by my colleague Lucy West. At the opening session, Lucy asked everyone to refrain from checking email or texting during the institute.
I鈥檝e been to dozens of conferences, and this was the first time I heard anyone make such a request (note that I said heard anyone, since others may have done so while I was texting or checking email). And I鈥檝e never been part of a more engaged group of 糖心动漫vlog. Not once during the 5-day institute did I notice anyone texting, tweeting, or emailing instead of listening to presenters or interacting with colleagues.
Of course, there won鈥檛 always be someone there to help regulate our digital doings, so self-regulation is essential. And again, this means removing the temptation if you 肠补苍鈥檛 resist it. I do this in my work as a consultant by turning off--not just silencing--my phone when I鈥檓 with clients. Schools hire me to give them feedback based on what I hear and see in their buildings, so that鈥檚 where I need to be--physically and mentally. This doesn鈥檛 mean I forgo all technology on the job. Nor does it mean that my work isn鈥檛 enhanced by what I learn from my online PLN. But that learning happens on my time, not my clients鈥� time. (Now if I could only self-regulate better at home!)
I encourage you to be similarly prudent on your students鈥� and colleagues鈥� time. And I look forward to your thoughts on this post: comment below or email me--but not during class or a meeting.
Image by GECC, with permission