Re-Connecting the Disconnections

As COVID-19 eases its vice grip on our personal and social lives, we are find ourselves faced with the invisible pandemics of isolation and loneliness that have fractured us collectively. The next time you are in a public place, take a look around to see how many people are on their phones, with headphones in, or otherwise disengaging from those around them. I've already written about the decline of volunteers in some organizations, but we are seeing disengagement across the board -- from the "Great Resignation" to the employee shortage facing nearly every industry in America. People are isolating themselves, turning to TikTok and YouTube over in-person interactions and community gatherings.

In schools, we see students who would rather put in their AirPods and tune out the world as they walk from class to class. Who am I kidding? We are seeing students who would rather tune out the teacher and their peers while they sit in class. 

While technological advances are incredible, we have allowed them to replace human contact -- and we are suffering as a result. We are perfectly poised as a society to rethink our goals and values. We need to re-humanize our worlds. In politics, in education, in the workforce -- we need to realign our priorities and re-connect. 

Re-connecting the disconnections is not as herculean as it sounds. I, for one, hate when Those with the Theories have no practical examples of how implement their Important Ideas. So, allow me to share a simple example with you. 

Each morning, a handful of colleagues and I are assigned to hall duty. Supposedly, our adult presence will deter students from making poor choices between 7:20 and 7:40 AM. Most of the time, it even works. But, being the kind of people who want to do more than just monitor, my colleagues and I have made it a personal mission to make our hall space welcoming and fun. Admittedly, we are led by a very creative, out-of-the-box guy who teaches science and has experience in school administration. (He's the kind of guy who owns a 3-D printer. You know the type.) 

At the beginning of the school year, we put a random lamp post left in the hall to good use and created a pen for an invisible dog. Imagine a cage at the zoo, but with one of those gag dog leashes -- 

We had a water dish, fake food, even zoo-like informative signs about the "Caninis Invisibilis." It was fun, but eventually it ran its course. 

Our fearless leader then began what we've termed, "Random Hub Surveys." He stands in the center of the hall and takes a survey . . . every morning. Questions range from, "Are there more doors or windows in the world?" to "Do you sleep with your socks on or off?" 

At first, kids were like, "What? Are you talking to me? I have my headphones in, and I'm clearly trying to ignore all of you people." Now, we have kids saying, "What's the question today?" as soon as they come up the stairs to our hall. One day when our colleague was absent, a senior jumped in with a clipboard to ask if students liked the morning surveys. (A resounding YES! One student even said, "It's what gets me here in the morning.) 

The questions spark little conversations among teachers and students -- even students who aren't necessarily friends with each other. Sometimes, the questions inspire heated debates, like the day we asked about iPhone or Android preference. I'm not even getting into the Xbox vs. Playstation day. 

We've been posting the results in the hall, and a cross-curricular activity with a statistics class may even come out of it. 

As silly as this sounds, the "Random Hub Survey" goes beyond having a little fun in the morning. When I look at the numbers posted, I see that we make contact with roughly 130-160 students every single day. Eye contact, quick Q&A, maybe a little follow-up discussion. Every single day. 

What's a non-school equivalent? Making eye contact and saying hello when we see people in the store or on the street, perhaps? As simple as it sounds, acknowledging our common humanity is a crucial step toward re-connection, to re-humanization. 

As educational leader and consultant Angela Maiers says, "We have to move from commonsense to commonplace and common practice." Small steps toward each other will ultimately make us stronger and closer -- even if we don't all believe that Lucky Charms are magically delicious.