Core Chronicles Volume 2

Do I Own My Smartphone, or Does It Own Me? Madeline Murphy As I sit writing this reflection, my phone buzzes in what seems like an attempt to win my attention. Its bright screen is practically irresistible, and I struggle to avoid picking it up. I tell myself, I’ll just respond to this text message. However, responding to a text turns into checking my email, checking my email turns into scrolling through a Target advertisement, and before I know it, I am hopelessly lost in the never-ending world that is the internet. After regaining control, I become frustrated with myself.

How can this seemingly harmless device have such a stranglehold on my life? This frustration is soon followed by an overwhelming sense of self-doubt; I ask myself why I can’t be as disciplined as a strive to be. When I was a child, I was significantly more focused and diligent, rarely struggling to finish my schoolwork.

At the time, the two most prominent distractions in my life were playing outside and reading the latest young-adult novel, both of which I would consider somewhat enriching. My phone, on the other hand, brings me far less joy and adrenaline than these childhood pastimes, but is considerably more addictive. I think part of the reason for this is because my books never sent notifications reminding me to read them, and because the playground was not present on my bedside table. Upon this realization, part of me wishes I did not own a smartphone. Without its engrossing screen, I might be more like my younger self.

However, that conclusion is far too simple for this multifaceted problem. As technology continues to develop, it becomes increasingly difficult for anyone, much less a college-aged student like myself, to live a wireless life. Without a phone, it would be nearly impossible to stay in touch with family and friends; I would surely lose touch with people I care about. Additionally, much of my schoolwork is completed online, and professors frequently send email updates regarding their classes. Choosing to rid all technology from my life would make academic success decidedly more challenging. Perhaps worst of all, I would lose opportunities for work and my future career since so much of the business world has become virtual. When applying to be a volunteer assistant counselor at a Christian summer camp my sophomore year of high school, the camp required counselors to keep a working cell phone on them at all times. My friends’ bosses frequently text or call them at any hour of the day and expect a prompt reply.

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