I was in kindergarten when I was given my first pen pal for a class assignment. The task: Write a letter once a week to someone from another classroom, making sure to ask at least one question with the goal of getting to know our partners better. At just six years old, I was taught the importance of communicating with intention.
My favorite day of the week in elementary school became Friday, the day letters from pen pals were delivered. Since we wrote only one letter per week, each of us carefully pondered over which questions to ask, which color pen to write with, and which rudimentary words to use to best articulate the things we valued most.
Flash forward a decade and a half later. I no longer have to rely on handwritten letters to communicate with friends—in fact, there are an overwhelming number of ways to reach people. So how is it that, in a world with constant contact, we’re actually more disconnected than ever?
Conversation is becoming a lost art. Communication has become a waiting game. Our daily contacts are overtaken by texted abbreviations, our messages riddled with emotionally ambiguous undertones. Sending texts to friends no longer feels like a luxury, something to be grateful for, but rather a programmed part of our daily routines.
We reply without thinking, type without intention. This isn’t to say that every text message sent is meaningless—but there is something eerily impersonal about primarily communicating via shorthand sentences.
Even when we are having conversations in-person, the digital world often pulls away from what’s right in front of us. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked into the Chocolate Bar and watched groups of friends intermittently conversing, each person with a phone in hand, not fully present. And I won’t pretend I’m not guilty of this as well.
As much as I try to direct my attention on the world around me, overaccessibility to connection makes it difficult to separate the real world from the often superficial online world we live in.
While it would be ridiculous to tell people to write out texts as if they were penning manuscripts, there is something special about taking more than 30 seconds to connect with friends. And no, this doesn’t mean sending Instagram Reels back and forth or liking each other’s LinkedIn posts. Instead, we need to make a return to the lost art of phone calls.
If you’ve ever received a seemingly random phone call from me, now you know exactly why. There’s something about hearing someone’s voice, actually being able to tell that they genuinely care about what you have to say, that texting will never recreate. Since moving back to campus, not a week has gone by where I haven’t called my best friend from home. Our conversations range anywhere from five-minute updates about campus run-ins to hour-long weekend debriefs.
No matter what we talk about or how long our conversations run on for, they always mean so much more than a quick text would. Even though she’s hours away from me, the distance between us doesn’t feel so extreme. These days, where I get to step away from my messages app for even a few minutes, have become my new pen-pal Fridays.
We might not be scrutinizing pen colors, but we do get to carefully choose which bits of information to share in the time we have. And that careful consideration, that obvious intentionality, is exactly why I’ll always answer the phone with more enthusiasm than a text could ever elicit.
So, next time you’re feeling detached in the midst of our overly connected world, pick up the phone. Take the time to actually listen to what people have to say instead of brushing over messages in passing. Value the endless opportunities we have to hear from each other.
And the next time you’re talking to a friend, try to put your phone to the side. Lean into the people and places right in front of you, and appreciate the beauty of connection, uninterrupted.
