Maybe we don’t write like we used to
I spent part of this evening helping my mother sort through the many belongings that I unceremoniously dumped on her upon my return from college 16 years ago. What a fascinating thing it is to look at those old papers and photographs, but it’s the letters and cards that are really getting me. There are many from the junior year when many of my best friends studied aborad while I stayed back in Medford, MA.
I can’t believe how much we wrote, how well we wrote. In the card I just put down, my friend discussed at length the difficult decision she was struggling with over whether to continue her study of Russian and reacted deeply to news I had shared with her about goings-on in my own life.
Do kids still write to one another like this? Or does the fact that students in far-flung places remain in constant contact through cheap and ubiquitous electronic devices reduce their dialogue to a shallow ongoing and ephemeral social hum? Will they be able to retrieve those messages 16 years from now? More importantly, will they be worth retrieving?
While I welcome new ways of communicating like Twitter, SMS, and e-mail (ok, that’s not so “new” anymore), seeing these letters reminds me of how improtant it is to really be able to think through one’s writing, to develop and explore an idea fully. This is something that I don’t want to see us lose – in the general discourse of our culture or in the schools that enter children into that discourse.

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