The New Generation Gap

If you guessed that I am referring to the gap between my generation and our parents, you're incorrect. I'm referring, instead, to the seemingly ever-growing gap between those my age (early 20's) and those only a few years younger than we.

Although those of us born in the late 80's live a life somewhat inextricably linked to technology, most of us remember life without it. Frequently, I like to "unplug"--shut off my phone, tuck away my MacBook and pull out a book or get out of the house and just wander the city. There is a certain sense of freedom of ceasing trying to control the world and exert power over it and simply living with it, going with the flow. I've noticed, however, that many teenagers don't feel the same way: my boyfriend's little brother is forever on his laptop or, if not, logged into iChat through his iPhone; my 16 year-old cousin can't maintain eye contact throughout a conversation because her eyeballs are permanently glued to her cell phone; my friend's little sister talks to her friends via video-chat instead of walking next door to visit them.

Last night, NPR's "All Things Considered" aired a story in a similar vein about universities adopting e-mail as the preferred method of notifying applicants of acceptance or denial rather than traditional snail mail. Few students interviewed took issue with the change, arguing that most of today's correspondence occurs via email anyway. Guest David Hautanen, director of admissions at Northeastern University, agreed, citing e-notifications as the "logical next step."

For some reason, this story made me sad. I feel like, by gaining convenience through technology, we lose something--a connection to what we are doing or to people. Although not every university has adopted the online notification policy, I'm sure that it will be standardized within a few years. Thus, in a few years, there will be a new generation of college-bound seniors who don't understand what it means to wait all day at school to get home and check the mail or to beg your parents to leave work during their lunch hour to check the mail themselves. They'll never understand what it feels like to open up their mailbox and see the big, fat white envelope and all that it entails.

When did 21 become the age at which one became nostalgic for the "good old days"?--days when laptops and smart phones weren't soldered to our hands. Sometimes, I wish that the world wouldn't give up so easily on things like hand-written thank you notes, paying someone an in-person visit or an actual acceptance letter in the name of convenience or the "next logical step." There's a whole generation of people who won't know any different, and I think that we're doing them a grave disservice in placing such a premium on the depersonalization of technology.

*Sigh.* Am I old??

For the NPR story, click here.