Returning home from a Thanksgiving weekend away, we stopped at a rest area to stretch our legs and walk the dog. As I passed a parked sports car in the lot, I noticed that the driver had gone inside, but in the passenger seat of the two-seater sat a big teenaged boy, I’m guessing around sixteen, with headphones on, staring nonchalantly (as teenagers do) out the window. I wondered: when his dad gets back to the car, will he take off the headphones and talk, or will they ride along, shoulder to shoulder, in their little pods of silence?
As it got dark, I rode shotgun up and down the long hills in Connecticut, watching the families around us pass by. Inside nearly every other vehicle I could see little screens glowing: up in the ceiling, in the backs of headrests, clutched in hands. Now, I understand that long road trips with small children can be harrowing, especially as the hours drag on. “He’s on my side” arguments have evaporated as child-seat laws have kept them off each other physically, but there are plenty of battles over whose turn it is with which toy/book/pillow, or whose turn it is to choose the next (grating children’s music) CD. And there are times I’d love to pop in a movie and have a little time to myself or to chat (amazing!) with my husband. Is zoning out with your own personal LCD really the answer? Are we really incapable of existing without an information feed in front of us at all times?
There seem to be no chances anymore for families to really interact with each other. We’re too busy to sit down to meals together, and our activities and volunteer commitments and work schedules make us long for simpler times when we could hang out. Yet here is a golden opportunity to ask our kids questions, to involve them in family decisions (should we go to the park next weekend, or the zoo? What should we get Nana for Christmas? Have any of your friends asked you about trying cigarettes/booze/drugs?)
And we’re constantly finding new research that shows how increased screen time leads to obesity, violence, smoking, and heaven knows what else among children, yet instead of turning off their screens and spending time talking or reading with them, or playing actual games (anyone ever heard of “license plate bingo”?), we put screens in the backs of our headrests and hanging from the ceilings of minivans, where our kids spend an incredible amount of time as we catapult ourselves around our suburban idylls carpooling and running errands. We give them Nintendo DS players so they don’t have to suffer an instant’s boredom while waiting in line with mommy at the post office or at a doctor’s appointment. (Must be saving the restaurant industry a fortune in crayons and black-and-white paper placemats.) How will our children develop the ability to invent, create, and imagine if they never have quiet time to themselves? Not only will they be hamstrung in their scholastic endeavors, but as they enter the working world they will be much more effective and valuable employees if they are able to imagine creative, original solutions to problems they are presented with.
For your next road trip, encourage your children to interact with their surroundings and each other. Try playing the “I’m going on a trip, and I’m bringing…” game. Read books to each other. Put in a ridiculous holiday CD and everyone sing along. (Your toddler doesn’t know you can’t carry a tune.) Take turns telling everyone what you’re most thankful for. Get one of those dinner-party ice-breaker card games and play with your family. The memories will mean more than the best holiday gift you could buy.
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