Do You Feel Constantly Interrupted or Distracted? You Aren't Alone, but There is Hope

Two days ago, I listened to an episode of The One You Feed, a podcast that explores various topics on spirituality and philosophy. On the show was author Johann Hari, who was discussing his new book called Stolen Focus: Why You Can't Pay Attention & How to Think Deeply Again. I highly recommend listening to the entire episode, which you can find here.  

Hari shares about his experience living without the Internet for 3 months (yes, friends, apparently this can be done) and the evidence revealing our attention crisis. While you may be thinking Hari is anti-technology, he isn't.  Instead, he raises awareness of how harmful the current business model of social media is to us and our attention. He advocates for a shift in technology use that could heal and aid our attention instead. 

As I listened, I thought about how often my phone makes demands on my attention. Ding! an email. Ding! a Snap. Ding! a Facebook alert. I thought about how often I open my phone with the intent of looking something up and end up scrolling mindlessly and forgetting why I even reached for my phone in the first place. I thought about my students who experience real anxiety when they don't have the pacifier of their phone in their hands. 

Who benefits from interrupting me all the time? The social media apps and Amazon, of course. And while I agree with Hari that we need larger, systemic changes to the current, largely unregulated business model of social media, I know there are some steps that individuals can take to reclaim their attention. I had already taken some smaller steps, like assigning specific ring/text tones to the contacts I don't want to ignore (parents, husband, kids), but I needed to make some adjustments. 

Here's what I started with -- 

1. Each morning at school, I set up my phone to play relaxing music in my office (affectionately dubbed "Denise's Spa Room" by the guidance team). Then, I put my phone in a drawer for the day. I stole this idea from James Clear (if you haven't read Atomic Habits, what are you waiting for?). Simply placing a barrier between me and my phone has led to fewer pick-ups. 

A caveat -- I do wear an Apple Watch, and I set it up so that I receive text notifications. If a text comes in from Gene or the kids, I get my phone out of the drawer to respond and then put it back. 

2. I turned off notifications for Instagram, Facebook, & Snapchat. Yep, OFF. I did this two days ago, and I can already see the difference. I don't think social media is entirely from the devil. (I mean, my doctoral research is on the marketing of public education....) But, those constant notifications, birthed from the algorithms intent on increasing our time wasted online (and our money wasted online) don't deserve the amount of attention I was giving them. 

Instead of those apps telling me to open them, I decide when I want to open them. Not surprisingly, I've discovered I'm not missing much at all. What I do like about social media -- connecting with friends and family -- is still there, when I want to use it. 

The impact so far is that I feel less distracted, less interrupted, and more fully present in whatever moment I am in. I'm not ready to smash the cotton gin or abandon the Internet entirely for three months by any means, but 19th century Transcendental philosopher Henry David Thoreau was right: "We do not ride upon the railroad; it rides upon us." Our railroad is the technology we use, and it's time we stop allowing it to use us. 

Stop Hiding the Hard: Shielding Kids isn't Helping Them Cope

In a recent episode of This is Us, Jack's mother passed away, after 13 strained and awkward years between mother and son. At the end of the show, Jack sets his wife and kids up at the dinner table with a meal his mother used to make and steps away because he was about to cry. When his wife goes to his side, he breaks down and sobs, "I don't have a mother anymore." He pulls himself together before returning to the kids with a brave smile plastered on his face. 

As usual, This is Us captures the truest and hardest parts of family life. Jack is trying to shield his children from seeing their dad cry, from seeing him filled with grief and regret. So many parents react the same way when faced with adversity. We don't want to upset our kids, so we hide what we are going through. It's well-intentioned, but as my own kids age, I realize that hiding the ugly parts of life from our kids is doing much more harm than good. 

When we struggle privately and put on an act to show our kids that everything is great and that we have it all under control because we are Adults and Adults Don't Struggle -- the result is that when our kids experience entirely normal hard times, they think there is something wrong with them . .. because they should be able to handle it all the way their parents do. This is especially true of teenagers who are in dress rehearsal for adulthood. 

Just the other day, I had a conversation with one of our teenagers about how hard life can be at times.  As I tried to assure them that all they were experiencing was entirely normal and human, I realized that my "I've got it all under control" and "Everything is figure-out-able" confidence was only telling part of my story. Like Jack, I'd been walking away from the table to cry. I decided to tell a more accurate story, and shared how stressed and overwhelmed I have felt recently.  And how, as a matter of fact, I don't know any capital-A Adults who aren't feeling the exact same way right now.  

I shared with my teenager a meditation podcast I use, I talked about different coping strategies. Not everything will be solved in one conversation, of course. But it's a start. 

After all, contrary to what our beloved, naive Olaf believes, it doesn't always make more sense when you are older. Honestly, the older I get, the less sense it all makes. 

We need to stop hiding the hard and ugly parts of our lives from our kids. There are ways to model grit and resiliency to children at every stage of their lives. We need to remove the stigma of talking about our emotions and fears and challenges. Our kids don't need half the story; they don't need adult role models who prop up a facade of having it all together at all times. 

They need the truth: Life is the hardest thing we'll ever do, but we can do hard things. And they aren't alone in how they are feeling.  Spoiler Alert: Being vulnerable like this isn't easy for parents. It's actually ridiculously hard. But anytime we step more fully into our authentic selves and tell our true stories, it's worth it. After all, the stakes are too high to continue the charade we've been calling Adulthood. It's time to stop hiding the hard. 

The Gift of Disney's Encanto

Over the holiday break, my family watched Disney's new movie Encanto. The Madrigals are Walt Disney Animation Studio's first Latino family to be featured as main characters in a film. The movie has been largely celebrated as a triumph of representation, with music by Lin Manuel Miranda and a roughly $150M budget. Some of my friends on Facebook have remarked that they didn't think the film was all that great, while others have utterly raved about it. To be sure, we all look for different things when we judge a film, so in reality, all the opinions are right . . . since you know, they are opinions. 

That being said -- and having watched the film only once so far -- here are my humble, initial thoughts on Encanto.

While the music was fun and the animation was beautiful, I -- as per usual -- felt drawn into the storyline. It all begins with a couple running for their lives with triplets in tow. The father sacrifices himself for his family's safety, and the mother is given a magical candle as a consolation prize as she raises the triplets, sort of This Is Us style. The movie tells the story of Abuela, her children, and their children. In the family Madrigal, every child receives a gift at a certain age, a gift that comes complete with its own magical room in their magical house. Pretty amazing, right? 

But as the family members and their gifts are introduced, I started wondering how much of a "gift" they really receive. For example, one character, Dolores, has super-sensitive hearing. Let's be real: wouldn't that get annoying? It's the burden of the empath -- to notice (hear) everyone's suffering .  .  . and to carry the feeling of obligation to help everyone at the same time. 

Speaking of carrying, another character, Luisa, has super-human strength. Disney did the PC thing and made this character a female, in an attempt to make us forget about allll those years of sexism and racism in their old movies. But, just like the super-sensitive hearing, this gift comes with some heavy baggage -- literally. Luisa is constantly called upon to use her strength for various tasks for everyone in the family, and in the village surrounding the magical house. 

In fact, Luisa shares the burden (pun intended) of her immense strength in a song with these lyrics:

Pressure like a grip, grip, grip and it won't let go, whoa

Pressure like a tick, tick, tick 'til it's ready to blow, whoa

Give it to your sister, your sister's stronger

See if she can hang on a little longer 

Who am I if I can't carry it all?

Phew! As a recovering perfectionist who struggles to ask anyone for help, I felt CALLED OUT by this song. I know I'm not alone, so don't even play. 

Even Isabela, the oldest grandchild ,whose gift is to grow flowers and plants, is more complex than she seems on the surface. Throughout the majority of the film, Isabela is the stereotypical beauty, surrounded by fragrant flowers and a doting suitor. But, even Isabela has her limits and in a soul-bearing moment with her sister Mirabel (we'll get to her in a minute), sings: 

I make perfect, practiced poses

So much hides behind my smile [. . .]

What could I do if I just knew it didn't need to be perfect? 

It just needed to be? And they let me be?

Though we aren't supposed to "talk about Bruno," I have to mention the older brother/uncle of the family who has the gift of seeing into the future -- and actually hides in the walls of the enormous mansion so that he can keep an eye on his loved ones, despite being ostracized for telling his family what they don't want to hear about their potential downfall. 

Now, to Mirabel. She's optimistic, enthusiastic, kind, compassionate, selfless -- and yet, she is the only member of the Madrigal family to NOT receive a gift or a magical room of her own in the house. (I mean, we could argue that all those previous qualities listed are in fact gifts, right?) She is, perhaps not surprisingly, the one who is clear-eyed enough to see the cracks starting to show in this pressure-cooker of a family. 

Of course Mirabel's huge heart and passionate impetuousness lead her to make unorthodox decisions (like not only talking ABOUT Bruno, but also talking TO him! gasp!) which wreak all sorts of havoc. As the dust settles (again, literally...spoiler alert, but the house crumbles to ground), Mirabel and her abuela finally have the heart-to-heart talk the family needed years ago. Abuela admits to her part in the family stress -- her seemingly antiquated traditions come from a place of love and a desire to protect her family. She knows what loss feels like and has wanted nothing but the best for her family ever since. Losing the magic of the candle would mean finally losing her husband after all these years. Mirabel and the younger members of the family are removed from that initial loss, and they've grown up with the magic, so they naturally take it for granted (which is why everyone was shocked when Mirabel didn't get a gift). They want to use their gifts for the greater good, but they need healthy boundaries. 

Sound familiar? 

OK, so maybe you don't live in a magical house and have magical gifts, but the cyclical nature of misunderstood good intentions is well-known to us all. Every generation of parents wants better for their children . . . and then becomes frustrated when those children don't realize how good they have it. And the younger generation striving to make the world a better place don't get why their parents and grandparents resist change. The grandparents and parents hide their personal struggles, as they were taught to do, and end up coming off as distant and unapproachable. The kids wear their hearts on their sleeves, and end up being judged as weak and impressionable. 

Some good old-fashioned authentic talks would go a long way toward understanding, but unfortunately, for a lot of families, healthy discussions and open-door policies are rare. Instead, we tend to sweep the unpleasant business under the rug (or deep into the bowels of the house like Bruno) and put on a facade until we reach a breaking point and the house falls down around us. 

For the Madrigals, it's a happy ending -- it's Disney, and they need to sell tickets, soundtracks, merchandise, and theme park rides, after all. 

For everyone else? Maybe, just maybe, movies like Encanto will help to normalize imperfect families who forgive and heal together. What a gift. 

 

Running into the New Year

You guys, I am such a sucker for fresh starts. I love the new school year, I love the new calendar year -- heck, I love the first day of a new month, that fresh desk calendar looking up at me with expectancy. I could not be more ready for 2022. 

Now, don't get me wrong. I loved the holiday season, despite the challenge of facing it without my mom. We had a relaxing time as a family, we charged our collective batteries, and we spent some time reflecting on the year.  

Perhaps it's a contradiction, but I am not a New Year's resolution kind of person. Honestly, I believe it's because I love new beginnings. I set goals each new month, each new week -- actually, now that I think about it, each new day. I've been reading James Clear's book Atomic Habits, and I'm planning on making huge poster of this quote of his  for my classroom:

When you really stop to think about it, wow. This is totally true. We think that life is accomplished in the big moments, but in reality, the big moments are the culmination of many, many small decisions we make. Clear recommends an emphasis on identity, rather than the significant milestones. For example, instead of saying, "I want to lose 50 pounds," you would say, "I am the kind of person who makes healthy choices." Instead of fixating on the end goal, decide who you want to be. The rest will follow. 

Over the past 2 years, I have struggled with some lower back and hip issues. I'll spare you the details (because let's be honest, they aren't that interesting to anyone else), and simply say these issues have significantly impacted my ability to exercise. I was once a runner. In 2013, I even ran a half marathon. I love long distance running, or at least, I used to. I came to the tough realization that my running days were coming to an end, as I went through physical therapy appointments, chiropractic adjustments, MRIs, and finally, steroid injections. 

Over our holiday break, though, something exciting (to me) happened. I felt pretty good while out for a walk and decided to try .25 mi running intervals. After about a week, those turned into .5 mile running intervals. Yesterday, I ran one mile without stopping. I have not overdone it, because I know what that will mean. I don't try to run every day. But, I am starting to feel like my identity as a runner is coming back to me. 

I don't have a goal in mind at the moment, though it would be fun to be able to run a 5K or two this year. Instead, I have an identity in mind. Will my body have another idea? Not sure. But for now, I'm running into the new year, one step at time. 

How will you cast your vote for the type of person you want to be today? 

Don't RSVP to the Fake Party

I spent far too much of my adult life faking happiness. When I was uncomfortable, unseen, hurt, unfulfilled -- nearly no one knew it. I kept it to myself, so as not to upset anyone's picture of how perfect my life supposedly was. Since breaking free from the gaslighting, emotionally toxic environment I used to live in, I have found my tolerance for fake-ness is quite low. I know in my bones when I am around someone who talks about me behind my back, especially since so much of what is said gets right back to me. I suppose those folks should do a little more vetting before they talk to people about me, but alas! I can honestly say I do not care. 

Here's the thing -- I feel deeply sorry for two-faced people. I can't imagine getting to this point in my life and not feeling confident enough to speak my mind and to be authentically who I am. My heart breaks for those who still put on a false front, pretending to be something or someone they aren't, in order to please (or merely not anger) another person. I had an interaction recently with some people who usually completely ignore me if another person is present. (I apologize for the vagueness, but I don't feel right outing people who may not even know they are in the closet.) In the exchange, these people looked me in the eye, spoke to me, acted normal.  Not all that long ago, in the presence of someone who would disapprove of their interaction with me, these same people avoided eye contact and ignored me. Another Denise would have been upset and even angry about this hypocrisy. This Denise's first reaction is laughter, which admittedly, isn't very kind. So then, I stop laughing at their pettiness and realize how deeply sad I am for them. I am so glad I am not living a life that keeps me from being authentic anymore. I don't have to hide who I am or what my feelings are. I don't have to wear one mask in front of one crowd, and a different one in front of another. 

I do realize why some people act this way, and the reasons are usually quite complicated. Parents can't openly admit their child is not a nice person; spouses can't openly admit that their spouses are abusive. It's nearly impossible to say, "The person I should be closest to is actually acting in a despicable way." I get it. It's so much easier to make people like me into the villains, despite the lack of evidence proving such a claim. 

Here's what I have really gotten better at, and my hope is that you can grow this way, too.  I've already explore WAY more than I usually do, in terms of the vague exchange I've outlined above, simply because I am 200% sure that I am not alone in this experience, and maybe my sharing will help someone else.  

Here's the thing -- you already know that these "fake" people are lost. Don't read into what they do or don't do, because you are already putting in more thought and effort than they do. They have their own work to do, and it's work they can only do themselves. Instead of wasting time, effort, and energy on their work, just let it go. See your true people and what they are going through. See how they could use your help or support. Life is far too short to invest time and energy on people who aren't invested in the same journey.

Trust me when I say that when you learn to pick your own battles, and to choose wisely how you spent your one wild and precious life, you will notice a significant drop in your tolerance for hypocrisy and fakeness. And trust me -- it feels amazing.  

To Harper's Parents: I Did the Best I Could!

As I worked through another stack of letters to Santa, I came across one from a child I'll call a girl named Harper for the sake of this story. Names changed to protect the not-so-innocent and all that. 

Harper is 7. She's been "very nice" this year, as you can see by the box she checked in the photo of her letter below. However, she must be getting bored with being nice and wants to change it up for 2022. She asked for only one thing: "A spy kit so I can spy on my parents."

OK, hold up. A few scenarios come to mind:

1. Harper is a fan of Spy Kids movies and Nancy Drew books. She's an aspiring CIA agent and has decided to start practicing her sleuthing skills at home before expanding to the neighborhood where she lives. 

2. Harper is one of those nosy kids who never lets her parents have 5 minutes to themselves and interrupts them at all hours of the day and night, if you catch my drift. 

3. Harper has noticed her parents being secretive over the past month and wants to get to the bottom of the shady behavior that seems to rear its ugly head every December. 

Whatever the case may be, Dear Harper's Parents, Santa's Ghostwriter did her best: 

"I know it can be hard to not know everything your parents are doing," Santa replied, "but Moms and Dads need time alone together. You'll understand when you are older, I promise!" 

I figure whether Harper is a future investigator or a future voyeur (really hoping for the former rather than the latter!), Santa's reply works. All joking aside, my guess is that scenario #3 is more likely, and hopefully Santa's letter buys Harper at least one more year of believing in the magic of Christmas. 

It's times like these that I wish I could meet these kids and their families. I'd love to know if any of my theories were right. Ah, well.  

Harper's parents -- Good luck. And maybe lock your bedroom door tonight. 

 

Join the Conversation with Denise Clark: Episode #6

 I have to admit, I am really proud of my little side adventure into the world of podcasting. We've just released our 6th episode today, and we've had nearly 250 downloads since we've begun. E and I are learning more about sound and editing along the way, thanks to our talented friend Jordan. I've loved all the conversations I've had with the educators this season, and I consider myself blessed to have this many remarkable people in my orbit. 

Be sure to check out Join the Conversation on Teaching #6: Observations from Biology Professor Karen Avery. 

After 15 years of teaching biology to high school students, Karen Avery transitioned to instructing full-time at Pennsylvania College of Technology, where she's worked for the past 5 years. Karen holds degrees in Biology & Education from Lycoming College in PA, a master's degree in Biology from Bloomsburg University of PA, and she's pursuing her doctorate in education through the University of Pittsburgh. She's also completed coursework through Howard Hughes Medical Institute Academy.

Higher education instructors: be sure to check out Karen's "You Gotta" resource, the Tea for Teachers podcast. It's a great place for research-driven methods for college-level teaching and learning.

Thank you for supporting Join the Conversation with Denise Clark. If you find these conversations valuable, please follow/subscribe to the show and share it with a friend or two! For more of Denise's work, check out her blog, The Stories that We Weave.  

Music Credit: Ikson 
Sound Engineers: E Connor & Jordan Miller
Special thanks to Jordan Miller