slow-cial networks

During a run through Riverside Park on the Upper West Side of Manhattan yesterday, I noticed a community garden.

An older man tended flowers hanging on until the first freeze. Two women – sisters? mother-daughter? – shot pictures of each other among the fading blooms.

This particular community garden is a slice of green in a sliver of a park in one of the busiest cities in the world. A city that purportedly never sleeps. An information nexus.

The tableaux represents what I wish I had been able to accomplish as a teacher and what I fear is becoming even more challenging in classrooms: providing students with opportunities to become digitally literate and engaged citizens of the 21st century – to navigate busy crowded spaces – while also elevating the importance of smelling the roses. Of knowing where to find roses to smell. Of knowing how to grow roses. Of growing roses.

My friend Allan Hoffman talks about “distracted living” – the inability to focus on enjoying the moment and understanding the critical importance of our human, social networks, as we embrace the power of our online versions.

I feel lucky in that many of the teachers I follow on twitter: Bud Hunt, Troy Hicks, Peter Kittle, and many many other colleagues also live this duality. I see pictures of them with their children at the playground or after anti-hunger road races and am reminded to force myself to become unwired, too.

In fact, I would argue that they’re successful as disseminators of information about social media because they’re willing and able to engage with a wide range of people. Because they appreciate the offline moments.

Robert D. Putnam wrote the seminal book, “Bowling Alone,” about the ways in which our current cultural state can atomize and isolate us.

The health of a community’s bowling leagues, he argued, was a good indicator of its social capital. I’m sure community gardens are also a signal of healthy social capital.

If we can incorporate bowling leagues, community gardens, front porches, with our online communities, so that both not only co-exist peacefully but share an exalted place in our lives, then I’ll know that we’ve succeeded in constructing what I call “slow-cial networks.”



Filed under digital literacies, education, running

6 responses to “slow-cial networks

  1. Pingback: how pizza came to queens « dComposing

  2. Pingback: » The Week in Tweets for 2009-11-29 Bud the Teacher

  3. Ruth

    You mention the distracted-ness of much of our living. Even with my 7 and 8 year olds I watch this phenomena. I work with several kids to whom I find myself saying, “Let’s live in what we’re doing right now…right here.” Seems like something we’d be more liekly to hear around adults…not necessarily so I guess.
    I find that our class garden is a great place for everyone to live in the moment. It’s hard to pick off just the dead leaves from our slowly fading tomato plants(as opposed to each and every leaf on the stalk) , when you’re thinking instead about a TV program you’ll watch at the end of the day – or what level you got to yesterday in the video game du jour.
    My kids aren’t as hooked into some of the technology that’s available due to economic status and age, but they’re well on their way. Guess we better get to planting those cool weather vegetables!

    • ohnopauloh

      I’m betting that our future online networks will be made stronger and more reasonable because of teachers like you, Ruth, who teach with the whole picture in mind.

  4. Paul,

    Indeed, it is a matter of balance, isn’t it?

    I find that I need to periodically shut down the laptop and leave the cell phone in the other room (even if I don’t turn it off, at least it isn’t right there in my pocket as a distraction). Part of the problem is that being a part of the network is compelling. Yet, remembering that we need to take time to pause and enjoy the moments is critical to our happiness, health, and well-being.

    Thanks for the reminder, especially as we move into the hectic holiday season.

    Take care,

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