It was a snowy Friday in mid-February my freshman year. I was walking down one of the many crowded sidewalks on Penn State’s campus during peak class hours, when I caught myself looking at everyone’s faces as they walked by me. God only knows why, but I did, and it changed me. Here I was, 1 in 40,000 – and only one in a few that was actually looking up. Everyone was so digested into their phones, making sure to send that last text or read that last email, plugged into their headphones, seemingly blocking out the world, and or the conversation they were having with the person next to them, trying to figure out where the closest outlet was so they could go charge their computer.
The snow was innocently gathering on everyone’s heads and shoulders, while all I could think about was the guilt that was building up inside me. That was me. I was the girl who immediately checked her phone the second she woke up, and the last thing I did before I went to sleep was check it for the millionth time that day. How did I let myself act this way? Why did I let myself get wrapped up in this culture? Wait, that’s it – it’s our culture. Today, having your phone out at the dinner table is accepted; people count text messages as a conversation and online dating is not seen as strange anymore.
I believe in conversation. I believe in a smile. I believe in being a human, and not a robot. Our society takes us from the minute we are born, and puts us into a routine for the rest of our lives – and the technology that we have today has just made it worse. Go to school. Go to college. Get a 9am – 5pm job. Work on the weekends. Get married. Have children. Give up your vacation time. Have you responded to my email yet? Do it. Now. Here we are, just traveling through life on the very beaten path of the ones before us, because that’s what we are supposed to do, right? Miserable robots, whose faces were lit up by a fluorescent phone screen, are what I saw walking down the sidewalk on my way to class that day. Robots who did not get enough sleep the night before; robots who had just left their advisors office to make sure they were still on track with their schedule; robots who just got off the phone with their parents who told them their expectations, for the second time that day.
What about the people? Where did they go? What happened to being human? I believe in emotion, in spontaneity and adventure. One can only “prepare” so much for life, until you’re finally 90 years old and realize that you spent your entire life “preparing.” Preparing for what? I still do not know, but my parents always say that I need to prepare for my future. But, what is my future if all I do is “prepare” for the rest of my life? Well, I believe in the present. I do not just want to exist; I want to live. I want to be human, and make a new path that maybe people will follow one day.