Tethered

Our generation seeks validation in a peculiar way. While the value of our happiness is, in reality, immeasurable, we have pinned it to these fixated numerical goals. The number of Instagram followers, the amount of people we have a Snapchat streak with, or especially the notifications that pop up on our screen. We, as a generation, have emotionally tethered ourselves to our devices. Each notification is validation for each insecurity amplified by our active participation in social media.

Things tend to move faster these days. The more media thrown in our faces, the further we are inclined to keep up and the more our attention spans wither. There’s always more to watch, more to see, more to explore on the internet that we haven’t discovered yet. We have to stay updated on our friends’ lives through their posts while simultaneously creating our own personas online: carefully crafting how all other Instagram users will look at us, or how many people we have on Snapchat. The beauty standards have become unbelievably strict considering the constant bombardment of beautiful women and bodies that we’re “supposed” to have. Many go so far as to download apps that help them manipulate their insecurities in each picture simply to be in accordance with all societal expectations for how a person should look. Each aspect of the media has almost strategically made our minds bound to the idea that fulfillment comes from spending more time on our devices, or staying “connected” with our friends at all times. And while this may simply seem like a generational moral dilemma, it becomes a fatal one when it interferes with our ability to drive safely. Not surprisingly, approximately 1.6 million car accidents each year are caused by using a cellphone while driving.

Around three years ago, my mother was driving my brother and three of his friends home from a workout. They were unfortunately caught in the blindspot of a tractor trailer and were hit twice before up in a ditch. After the dust settled, all the passengers were taken to the hospital, and the totaled car was towed away from the site of the accident, the policemen on duty admitted to my mother that this should’ve been a fatal accident and their survival was essentially miraculous. She walked away that night with post traumatic stress disorder and a severe concussion that she has yet to fully recover from. She continues to struggle each day with the consequences from this accident, from migraines to short-term memory loss. I was scarred from almost losing two of the most important people in my life. While the accident was not a result of distracted driving and instead a careless mistake made by a tractor trailer driver, its severity has still drilled itself into my mind.

Driving is a serious responsibility, and this includes the obligation to consider the safety of not only ourselves, but pedestrians or other drivers. Small mistakes can have large consequences in someone else’s life, such as my own family’s. When referring to texting while driving, obeying each rule of the road can already be complicated enough, but that additional complexity of simultaneously pursuing a whole different digital realm is especially dangerous. Texting while driving is falling victim to the bane of our generation. It’s selfishly enabling the grasp of a device to prevail instead of prioritizing one’s own safety and the safety of those around them. With our deteriorated attention spans and our minds accustomed to life moving fast, it’s especially a struggle for many to stop for a moment and focus on arriving at a destination safely. A single glance to something that could leave the mind distracted and preoccupied could very well be a fatal decision.

My best advice to others that have yet to grasp the seriousness of their digital actions on the road is to examine themselves and their values. Is it ethical to choose the convenience of “multitasking” for the sake of maintaining a social presence? Is it worth it to respond to a text if that means risking the lives of others? This issue isn’t one that will resolve itself with social media’s looming influence over our generation, but if we may lengthen our tethers and separate ourselves from the toxic realm of the internet enough to see that it infringes upon our judgment even during driving, there may be hope. Put the phone in the glove compartment, center console, or the tunnel console where the tempting glow of the device cannot be seen by the driver. Having a phone out of sight is truly the only way to lessen the tight grip of digital connection. One look at a phone could kill someone’s beloved pet, a child playing near the street, an elderly couple on a walk, other drivers, or more. Is it worth making a careless decision to satisfy the shallow validation of a notification? We may be tethered, but we must at least resist the pull enough to ensure the safety of those around us.