http://www.faith900.com/2010/08/05/technology-and-faith/

I guess its no surprise. After all, we are a highly wired, virtually connected family. The question becomes more uncomfortable, however, as I read new research coming out from cyber scholar Sherry Turkle. According to Turkle, we can't use technology in a way that is unintentional or unbalanced and hope it doesn't sift down to our kids--because it does. "After five years and 300 interviews, she has found that feelings of hurt, jealousy and competition are widespread. Her findings will be published in “Alone Together” early next year by Basic Books."

The finding that just breaks my heart is the intense hurt children feel when parents make a choice to talk on the phone or check their laptop instead of pay attention to their children. While some kids act out in order to demand that attention back, many simply suck it up and learn how to deal with it, feeling a little less worthy every time their parent takes that call. And you can be sure that when those children grow up, they will do the exact same thing with the people who are important in their lives.

In addition to kids feeling ignored, displaced, and basically unworthy of their parents' attention, kids of high-tech parents have a hard time developing a healthy sense of boundaries. And those boundaries can be important. In some of the research we did in 2007, we asked college students what they felt was the most important kind of rules they wished their parents had placed on them as middle school student users of technology. They overwhelmingly said they wished their parents had set stricter limits. They felt like they were now at college struggling with the discipline required to turn off the technology and disconnect when the situation called for it. They wished their parents had helped them develop that discipline when they were younger. Unfortunately, parents who are themselves unable to disconnect have a difficult time teaching discipline and limits to their kids.

I guess the moral of the story is that we can't expect to raise kids who have the discipline to disconnect and engage in real-life, interpersonal interactions when we aren't able to role model that in our own lives. Imagine what kind of powerful statement is communicated when you put away your cell phone each time your kid hops into the car. It communicates worth to your child and the fact that you have power to control your technology. Imagine that at the same time you have strict limits on how long your child can be on the computer or when they can use their cell phones, you follow the same limits and model healthy boundaries. Being intentional about how we use technology is not easy. But next time you reach for the phone or pop open the laptop, check to make sure you are balancing the need for your virtual connection with the need to model healthy choices to your kids.

Aaron Kendall

Aaron’s journey began on a snowy evening in February. To no one’s surprise, his mom spent the afternoon trying to find a substitute teacher in between contractions, while his dad spent time phoning friends and relatives.  Everyone knew that Aaron was special from the minute he was born.  With a heart rate of over 300 beats per minute, the nurses’ quickened pace seemed to subtly contradict their smiling faces and reassuring words. Within an hour, Aaron was transported down to Children’s Hospital with a diagnosis of Wolf-Parkinson White Syndrome, a common heart problem that periodically speeds up the heart.  “No problem” said the doctors, “lot’s of kids live normal lives with WPW.” And within a week, Aaron was home with his family, living the life of a beautiful newborn.
    That first month was special as Aaron’s red hair grew long and curly and he learned how to use that beautiful smile. He was healthy, active and growing strong. Then, in an instant, everything changed. That snowy night, Aaron’s mom and dad said their prayers and tucked Aaron into bed.  Little did they know, his heart had begun to race.  When his mom went in to check on him a little later, she found a gray and lifeless child.  CPR was given, the ambulance came, the men worked on him, and they took little Aaron away.  From that night on, Aaron’s life course changed from what his mom and dad had charted for him. They began on a journey together—just like an adventurous sailing voyage, no one knew exactly how to sail, how to drop anchor, or where they were going.  But the thing was—they were in it together and they would never be alone.
    Aaron came home from the pediatric intensive care unit 3 months later accompanied by nurses, tubes, medicines, social workers, and a list of things to do to keep him alive. Within the chaos and storm of those first few months, God began to demonstrate how he would care for Aaron (and his family).  One after another, He sent very special people into Aaron’s life. Whether it was the Mary Poppins nurse who sang songs to Aaron from morning to night, the New Age PCA who would massage Aaron’s forehead with essential oils whenever he looked concerned, the Happy bus driver ladies who greeted him each morning with music and smiles, the Dedicated teachers who believed in his ability to do more than just sit in his chair, or the Faithful friends from church who would make animal noises and talk to him every week, God surrounded Aaron with people.  These people helped raise him, love him and, many times without realizing it, helped care for his family as well. 
    Aaron’s journey took a new course when he moved into the group home in Roseville two years ago.  It was a miracle he found a place like B2. Really.  A miracle. Paid for by the State of Minnesota (his family says thank you) and only 10 minutes away from anxious and guilt-ridden parents, Aaron was immediately surrounded by new friends, stuffed animals, and very special people who did more than care for him.  They opened themselves up and cared about him. It wasn’t long before his family saw new enthusiasm in Aaron’s eyes.  His smile was wide as he went on excursions to parks, parties, and 3D movies. He had found a very special place to call home.
    The last two months were a difficult part of Aaron’s journey. It was during this latest storm that Aaron and his family felt the deep devotion from his ACR family. Whether it was hospital visits where staff would read books and sing along with sing-along tapes or training sessions where staff learned how to do new and sometimes uncomfortable procedures, Aaron and his family never felt so supported and lifted up as they did when they saw another ACR staff go out of their way to make things better. 
    Aaron experienced lots of transitions and uncertainty over the past month, but through it all he showed resiliency and charm. Not surprisingly, it wasn’t long before his new caregivers in Red Wing were making animal noises, reading books, and humming as they left his room.  That’s the thing with Aaron.  He had a smile for every occasion and reminded everyone who stopped to listen that there was joy to be found in each and every little thing.
    And that’s where Aaron’s journey came to an end.  It concluded as unexpectedly and dramatically as it began. When we look back over his remarkable voyage we can see that we were never in this alone. It took a community to raise Aaron.  His life was filled with love and people who saw the remarkable child who thrived within his imperfect body. And the thing is, Aaron seemed to understand God’s way of doing things a little more clearly than the rest of us.  Whether it was his bright smile or infectious laugh, Aaron saw the beauty in things.  He took us on an adventure that brought us to an extraordinary place. We are far stronger and far more understanding of God’s deep love and God’s mighty power than we would have been if this journey would have taken another course.  Who would have expected that this smiley faced, red-haired, freckled-face boy could have accomplished so much in just 20 years.
 


 

The second thing is that Facebook builds what Sherri Turkle calls "a tethered self".  This tethered self is one that is constantly connected to the broader social web.  Whether it be through the computer or the smart phone, our social companions are always with us.  This public way of living can change us.  Instead of thinking through certain decisions, weighing the implications, we simply ask our social companions what they think. What car should I buy? What should I make for dinner? Where should we go for vacation? which classes should I take? I could make up my own mind, but its easier to just get my friends' opinions. Another implication to living a public lifestyle is that we feel obligated to share our feelings. And I mean every feeling. If I'm frustrated with my roommate, sad about a test, worried about the future, or guilty about a behavior, I had better share it with my social web. In other words, if I am having a feeling, I need to find a friend. Or I need a friend, so I need to find a feeling.

Think about some of these implications.  Instead of feeling something, thinking about it, mediating on what God is trying to show me, considering how I might be at fault, then strategizing how to respond, I simply whip out my cell phone and share my feeling with my 100 best friends.  As we live our lives in an increasingly public way, we lose that sense of self that stands in between the relationships.  We lose a sense of who we are and who God wants us to be.  Instead, we become who our social web says we should become.

Living a public life can be fun and can provide terrific ways to communicate the things that are important to us. What we need to be aware of is that when we increasingly become the person our Facebook profile says we are, we miss out on the depth of understanding our complexity, our unique giftings, and our ultimate purpose. Instead of shaping ourselves in the image of Jesus Christ, we begin to shape ourselves into the self that has been conveniently socially constructed for us.  Sometimes, there is a big difference.  Sometimes taking  time to untether, de-publicize, and disconnect may be just what we need to really find out who we are and why we are here.

Because my son feels like one of his jobs is to train his mother in the intricacies and beauties of living in a high-tech world, he introduced me to a new game he thought might just be my speed--in other words it wasn't very hard, involved cute little aliens, and required very little hand-eye coordination. He got me to the beginning point and said "now, mom...all you have to do is get your guy over the chasm and into the other room.  You may have to replicate the guy and get a jet pack, but that's pretty easy. I'll let you work on it for a few minutes, then I'll come back to see how you are doing." I figured well, I do have a PhD, after all, how hard can this be? After being killed at least 50 times, I yelled at the t.v. screen and declared "I quit!"  I could see the disappointment in my son's eyes.  He showed me how to do a few basic maneuvers and I said "well, you didn't tell me I could do that!"  His response was "mom, you're supposed to figure that out for yourself. That's part of the game."

He was right.  Video games are not for those who want to sit back and tune out intellectually.  Most games are full of cognitive complexity. They require patience and step by step goal setting with layer after layer of problems to be solved.  The gamer has to figure out the rules of the game (the days of things like chess where you know the rules ahead of time are long gone).  He or she has to determine the "physics of the virtual world".  In other words, by trial and error, he or she figures out what it takes to fly, speed, shoot, walk, fight, and stay alive.  According to Johnson, gamers begin by exploring the world; they then define problems, make hypotheses, test them out, revise hypotheses and act upon the findings.  Does that remind you of anything familiar?  That would be the scientific method.  That's right, as our kids are sitting around with controllers in their hands and blank looks on their faces, they are actually refining important problem-solving techniques that have a direct application to real-life issues.

As I was making these arguments in my recent debate, a young man raised his hand and asked if these skills  are really transferable or valuable?  The same could be asked of the types of problems we have students do in math and science classes.  After all, how many times, in real life, will our kids have to figure out if 2 trains left a station 100 miles apart and one traveled 60 mph......?  The point is, we are training our kids how to think.  How is that different than what the video games are doing?

My conclusion? There is ALOT more to video games than what most people assume.  Though they may have addictive powers and may contain violence and lots of well-endowed stereotypical women, they are also challenging our kids to think in ways that are much more significant than checkers or Uno. So the next time you see a kid (or a spouse) sitting and playing a video game, take a breathe before you tell him or her to get off that thing and get a life.  He or she may just be getter smarter with every level that is conquered and every task that is mastered.

http://eugenecho.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/facebookpassion.pdf