Are techno-savvy kids getting dumber?

Not being very technologically minded, I used to admire the kids of today for the ease with which they can get around any new piece of technology.  And we can all thank technology for the incredible conveniences it has brought us.  Indeed, it is very hard for me to imagine how the world spun on its axis before the computer and internet changed how we did business, communicated with one another and learned at school and university.

But what is the cost of all this convenience and easy access to information?

When I started work, the automatic typewriter was still in use (yes, this was years and years ago!!) and at home we used an old manual typewriter whose keys frequently got stuck and whose ink ribbons dried out far too quickly.  Those were the days before the photocopier; the days of the telex machine, typex paper and fluid, typewriter rubbers and carbon paper. Those were the days when letters were written in triplicate, the original posted and copies filed. Those were the days when it might take me a couple of hours - and a dozen swear words - to type up a few correction-free pages.  When the fax machine replaced the telex machine, I  was awestruck.  When the word processor appeared, I was intimidated but not so much as when a bulky computer with a mono screen arrived on my desk and I had to sign up for weeks of lessons to learn how to use it.  I was still using one of these old fashioned personal computers in 1998 when I wrote up my Master's thesis.  My spelling was still excellent in those days because my PC didn't have a spellcheck.  Without Google, I had to use the university library to do all my research and I recall completing hundreds of order forms by hand for journal articles to be sent to me from the British Library.  In those days, everything took much longer to do and change happened more slowly.

And here I am today, paying bills online while Skypeing, sending or reading emails, checking Facebook, downloading photos or the latest research, reading newspapers from all over the world, listening to music, or learning something new from YouTube clips.  Incredible how useful these technologies are.  Twenty years ago who could have imagined that we would be living in such a global village with instant communication via TV, computers, the internet, mobile phones, smart phones, and social networking sites? 

Nevertheless, adults are often described as old-fashioned when it comes to new technology and many, like me, are still rather backwards in coming forwards to obtain the very latest techno gadget.  Kids, on the other hand, are often described as "digital natives." This is not surprising really since schools have embraced the digital age with more than a 'bear hug', including laptop computers, electronic smart boards instead of blackboards, replacing printed books with e-books, and making learners use the internet to carry out research and computers to do their homework.

I recently read that in some schools libraries have been replaced by digital resource centres and children are now described as "knowledge navigators" surfing the net with teachers guiding them at their side.

Apparently books are out-of-date and novels are no longer read from beginning to end by the techno-savvy youth. Teenage clients almost invariably tell me that they most enjoy playing computer games in their leisure time, or chatting on Facebook.  I don't hear many young people telling me that they enjoy reading books these days.  Everywhere you go, teens are glued to their mobile phones and many of them will tell you that they stay up til the wee hours of the morning texting friends, be it a weekday or the weekend.  No wonder kids are so sleep deprived these days.

And loss of sleep is not the only thing that the digital age is costing us.  Apparently, too much time on computer games, watching screens and surfing the net impairs the way our brains process information and the way we think. Think about it: Printed texts require one to focus on the words, to concentrate, read carefully and sit quietly.  TV and computer screens, on the other hand, are replete with colourful images, graphics, sounds, and movement that is everchanging.

The newspaper article I read recently quoted Susan Greenfield from a brain researcher from Oxford University as saying: "These technologies are infantilising the brain into the state of small children who are attracted by buzzing noises and bright lights, who have a small attention span and who live for the moment."

She went on to say: "(The) environment has changed in an unprecedented way, it's bombarding you with boom, bang and bang images, which I call the 'yuck and wow' scenario where every moment you're having something flash up in your face and bombard your ear."

The same article points out that when we read a printed page, our eyes move from left to right following the words, with stops to process meaning, as we move systematically across and down the page.  However, according to US researcher, Jakob Nielsen, although reading a computer page is similar to reading a printed page initially, in that our eyes move from left to right in a methodical fashion, after a while our eyes stop reading all the way across the screen and only read the left-hand side, moving vertically instead of horizontally.  Perhaps this explains why I frequently tend to forget the details I read in emails; I must be reading them vertically.

And of course, if you think about it, surfing the net is nothing like reading a book.  When we read books we read page after page (well, except for Fifty Shades of Grey.  I read page after page of that piece of rubbish for about two chapters before I chucked the book aside!!) But when we surf the net we quickly flit from site to site and rarely spend more than a few minutes gathering information.  Even if I don't flit from site to site, I definitely don't read every chapter and verse of a book online that way I would do if I was lying in bed with a book between my hands.

Reading books enables us to lose ourselves in the story, to get into the skin of the characters and to visualise scenes and imagine the experiences of the characters.  Computers, however, don't allow time to stop and think.  They don't promote the ability to reflect and they don't encourage imagination and visualisation.

Ludger Woessman, an European researcher, says that "the availability of computers at home is negatively related to student performance in maths and reading, and the availability of computers at school is unrelated to student performance." He points out that students can waste time on computers and the internet.  Well, that is hardly surprising.  How many adults, myself included, testify to wasting huge amounts of time on the computer? And I have spoken to a number of teens who say they use the computer and internet to procrastinate and distract themselves from their assignments, particularly when they are struggling or stressed. 

Children learn best by memorising multiplication tables, doing mental arithmetic and learning to recite songs and poems by heart.  What's going to happen to children's brain power if they continue to rely on computers and calculators to do the "thinking" for them?  I, for one, know what's happened to my spelling and arithmetic skills since spellcheck and the calculator came along.

The article I read stated "one study from Duke University examined the test scores and computer use of 150,000 primary age children and found that those who didn't do well in the tests had high computer use, with most of the time spent socialising and playing games."

And what about the other negative impacts of technology on children?  I'm referring to the deficits in social skills that seems to be emerging with the increasing use of social networking, computers and gaming. And the increase in violence and aggression at school can also be blamed to a large extent on the amount of violence and aggression kids are exposed to in the media.  And don't get me started on the media's sexualisation of children.  I will save that post for another day.  

When all is said and done, I am now rather pleased that I am just technologically savvy enough to keep my head above water in today's world.  I am even more relieved that I don't have the difficult task of raising and educating kids in this digital world.  And although I rather like the wonderful things that technology has brought to my life from now on, I intend to write more letters and fewer emails.

 

Elda

Every now and again, something wonderful and unexpected happens during your day to gladden your heart.  This happened to me yesterday when Elda, the elderly African Zulu lady who worked as my maid  for many years in South Africa, sent me a text message enquiring after me and saying she wanted to hear from me.

I last saw Elda more than four years ago.  Our parting was swift, without fanfare and very brief.  I hate "goodbyes" and saying goodbye to her was almost as painful as saying goodbye to my sister.  Elda and I said "goodbye" at a bus-stop where I dropped her off after her last shift.  We didn't look at each other nor did we hug, and I was grateful for the traffic which forced me to make only the briefest of stops and enabled me to focus on my surroundings rather than the sense of finality and loss  that weighed heavy in my heart.

I wrote her a couple of times after I arrived in Australia but lost touch with her at least two years ago.  Despite this, she has often been on my mind and I have prayed for her safety, health and wellbeing.

Let me tell you  a little bit more about this wise woman of substance.  Elda must be in her late 60s by now.  She may even be older, it's hard to tell.  Not only is she the strongest woman I have ever met, but she is an extremely evolved human being.  This is a woman of extremely little financial means and education, who somehow managed to raise her grandchildren singlehandedly, putting a couple of them through private schools on her very meagre wages and a paltry widow's pension.  She is a woman who has endured and endured through hardship and suffering, through health problems, traumas, tragedies and personal losses too numerous to count.

I witnessed her cry and sob on many occasions.  I witnessed her fret and worry about her children and grandchildren almost constantly.  I witnessed her express her gratitude and joy over the smallest kindnesses shown to her.  I witnessed her demonstrate love and compassion everywhere she went.  And no matter how much hardship she went through, no matter how often she questioned the meaning of life, no matter how hopeless she felt at times, her belief in God never faltered.  And she ALWAYS came to work, no matter what.  She never ceased to amaze me.

My life has taught me that sometimes our strongest bonds are with people who are not family members.  Elda was my employee, my friend, my surrogate mother, and my one of my greatest role models.

When all is said and done, I am a richer person for having known her and I am grateful to be in touch with her again.  This time I will guard her address and phone number more carefully!

Gratitude

A number of attitudes lead to happiness.  Gratitude or the act of counting one's blessings, is one of them.  Some others include 'being aware of possibilities,' 'giving to others', 'being connected', 'pursuing dreams and goals'. 

Most recently I have felt distinctly unhappy; depressed even.   I've had a few disappointments and setbacks  in the past couple of weeks and I could argue that these have caused my current state of mood malaise.  But they haven't really.  What's really caused my mood of late is my sense of complacency and my (high) expectations for myself and reality.  It is never a good idea to impose high expectations on circumstances, situations or people because after all, circumstances and people are what they are and will be what they'll be.  It is easy to let one's expectations exceed reality and this mismatch - where one's expectations are higher than the actual experience or reality - can only lead to disappointment, frustration and even unhappiness. 

When all is said and done, I seem to have lost my mojo because I have forgotten to be grateful.  I have become complacent. As anyone knows, complacency is a very unreflective stance which can lead to a sense of boredom or a lack of what I call "life drive".  

In conversation with my hubby yesterday, I started to reflect on the when my current malaise kicked in.  We realised that I started to lose my mojo a few months ago when my application to become an Aussie citizen was approved.  The sense of relief and joy I initially felt when my permanent residence status was upgraded to "citizen" was gradually replaced with what "empty nest syndrome" must feel like in some way.  Now, I don't have kids - young or grown-up - so I don't have first-hand experienced of emty-nest syndrome but I think the parallels might be there.  For starters, I started to dream of living in Australia around 1996 when I was doing my Masters degree in Clinical Psychology.  I believed that this qualification would be my ticket out of the Africa I had been borne into and loved deeply but could no longer imagine growing old in.  The determination, passion, angst and grind of 10 years of study was going to be my ticket out of chaos and violence. 

And so it was, but not before I patiently bided my time over many more years and bounced back after several set-backs on my uncertain path of immigration. But finally I got to raise my goal from its initial stage of conception through all the transition phases up to its adult status of attaining an Australian identity.  That done, where to now?  What's left? Where does my next major life goal lie?  I don't have the answers.  Is it to start preparing myself for retirement and the associated goals of securing long-term financial security?  This is something I simply cannot begin to contemplate yet.  It certainly does not feel like something to look forward to, let alone something I can embrace with the passion and determination that I spent on pursuing my previous life goals.

So for now, I have realised that the best hope I have of regaining my mojo in the short-term is to focus on gratitude. My goal for now is to count my blessings everyday starting with today.  I am going to reflect on my blessings and write them down. I am going to count three blessings every day (in no order of importance) so that I can really savour them mindfully as if sucking on three small squares of my favourite chocolate. I am going to let them roll around my head, explore them, let them melt inside me and I am going to be slow to swallow them.

Blessing One:

I am grateful for my home.  It's a space in which I get to do some of my favourite things - cooking, writing, playing games, sleeping, playing with my cat, sitting quietly with a cup of tea, cuddling up to my husband.

Blessing Two:

I am grateful that today I get to spend a carefree afternoon with a friend at the movies.

Blessing Three:

I am grateful that I have some warm clothes to put on because it's a cold day outside.  There are so many people in this world with neither warm clothes or warm shelter and I don't even want to imagine what that must be like.

Dementia Dread

One of my greatest fears is getting dementia.  Now this might seem like a weird thing to start blogging about, not to mention, fear, at the awfully 'tender age of 48', but on the scale of things I am scared of, getting dementia is right up there.  When I mentioned this concern to someone, they very reasonably pointed out to me that if I became demented it wouldn't be so terrible for me.  "There are much worse things to get," she said.  "I mean, if  one has Alzheimers or something, one lacks self-awareness so surely one isn't pained by the daft, humiliating or downright dangerous things one is doing."  Granted.  Point taken.  And I admit that caring for a loved one with dementia most certainly has to be more challenging and emotionally painful than it is for the loved one whose brain is dissolving.  Which is why I made it clear to my husband from get-go that should he be fated with this goddamm awful disease, I would most definitely be packing him off to a home.  Which is why I made sure that "in sickness and in health" was not part of my marriage vows.  Okay, I know, this sounds completely harsh and unloving, but at least I am honest.  He thinks I am joking, I'm sure.  I THINK I'm serious.

But getting back to this fear of mine.  The thing is, it's a fear which means it's illogical and irrational.  I don't even know where it comes from.  It's not as if any close family members have acquired dementia in old age. But I do know when it crept up on me: it was sometime in this fourth decade of my life.  Its tentacles started to stretch into and take hold of my thinking when I started becoming more forgetful.  Raising my concerns casually with a neuropsychologist colleague, I was reassured that since I still know how to do my job, my memory difficulties are entirely normal.  Mmm...I'm not so sure.  I mean, once upon a time, I think I almost had a photographic memory.  I could read a list of 20 words in a foreign language and be able to recall most of them after first glance.  I could remember phone numbers without ever writing them down.  Names and faces were a cynch too. I wouldn't have to read my client files before a consultation because I'd remember all the details of our previous conversations.  No notes needed really.

Fast forward to the "forgetful forties", and time and again, I started to forget where I parked my car.  This wasn't such a problem when I lived in South Africa and had (un)trusty car guards to call on which I repeatedly did.  Each time I'd be convinced that my car had been stolen because I'd "know for sure" where I'd parked it.  But after relying my number plate on walkie-talkie devices to one another, a car guard would inevitably find it.  And what do you know?  It would be in a spot where I HADN'T parked it!  Go figure. Some spiteful person must have had a duplicate set of keys and moved it!  Relieved, I'd thrust a tip into the man's hand, mumble my embarrassed thanks without making eye contact and hasten away.  Humiliation time and again. 

The case of the lost car still happens to me of course but I have trained myself to be far more mindful of its parking location.  In Australia, I don't have the luxury of crying wolf to helpful car guards.  So my strategy now is to repeat to myself certain details pertaining to the location of my parked car.  It's not enough for me to make a simple mental note.  No, I have to repeat the mental notes over a few times to fix them into place.

Sure, I can still do my job.  However, I now have to read the client's file before each session to remind myself of the conversations that have been taking place, the treatment plan and the strategies and interventions I have been using.  This is painstaking.  Even with more long-term clients, I need a refresher before every session.  Once I left a client file in my filing cabinet at home and the client came in for a session.  Oh boy!  Panic set inside my guts and all I could do was "fake it until I made it".  Fortunately, that time I did "make it" because the client came back for more appointments.  Next time, I - and the poor client - might not be so lucky if the tentacles of forgetfulness continue to take a stranglehold.

Some other "demented" things I have done in this decade:

• reversing my car down the side of a stationery vehicle and looking up to see my bumper in the road and wondering how in the hell it got there.  My music was playing loudly so I hadn't heard the crash and hadn't felt a thing as the wing mirrors and bumper went flying into space.
• driving on the wrong side of the road in the middle of the day.  This was a serious case of "brain fog".  I was completely sober.  Yes, COMPLETELY.  I only realised I was driving on the wrong side of the road when I looked up and saw the horrified look on the face of an oncoming driver.
• Arriving at the supermarket and having not a single recollection of what I needed to buy.  I am ashamed to say I have done this several times.
• On occasion, I have mastered the art of speaking "word salad".  That is, I have heard myself utter sentences that make no sense at all because the words are all jumbled.  More than once I have heard myself use a nonsense word.  Not a slang word or a word that I've made up on purpose with the intent of being creative.  No, a spontaneously uttered nonsense word that NO ONE has ever heard before.

I have done many other very weird, demented-like things over the past few years but fortunately my memory is so poor that I have forgotten them!  Yes, perhaps memory loss does have its benefits. 

Signing off for now but making a note to self elsewhere about what I might blog about next!