April 2021

Yes, I’m using my phone during this meeting.

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Transcript:

Yes, I’m using my phone during this meeting.

A question I’ve found myself asked at more than one meeting (work, committee, community, or otherwise) is “are you really on your phone during this meeting? I figured I’d share why “yes, I’m using my phone during this meeting” and “yes, my students are encouraged to use their phones in my class” has became a regular part of my self-advocacy, self-care, social worker vernacular. I may even make little cards with QR codes to hand out that link to this podcast.

This is an important topic. It’s important for disability rights, it’s important for students, it’s important for workers, and it’s important for the future of Social Work tech:

I can touch type on my phone as quickly if not more quickly than a keyboard, and certainly faster than I can write. Beyond speed, the main (and most important) difference is that I can put digital words to digital paper without the joint or muscle pain that accompanies typing or writing due to my rheumatoid arthritis and myositis. Yes I will, largely, be looking up at the speaker as they present or speak (it’s common courtesy, and it’s important to provide non-verbal feedback as a learner), but the speaker or presenter doesn’t need my unbreaking eye contact and undivided attention for me to understand and retain what they’re saying.

No one would ever be admonished for taking a brief moment in time to look down at their handwritten notes, and so I expect (and, since I set healthy boundaries, require) that the same courtesy is extended to me: whether I’m checking I typed a word correctly, or adding an event someone just shared to my calendar and then returning to the notepad app.

No I don’t write down protected health information (I don’t when writing on paper, either). Simply put, I use the most efficient tool for me to memorialize what you are saying, process it, think about it, remember it, and recall it later. That I have my phone out indicates that I care enough about what you have to say, to take notes on it, and to think about it later.

Solution Focused Practice calls on us to recognize that our clients and patients are the experts on themselves and their own lives. As practitioners, managers, leaders, and teachers we owe others (and ourselves) this same freedom and respect.

Finding Holiness In All Spaces

Whether digital spaces, outdoor spaces, happy spaces, or sad spaces, one of the challenges I give myself is to find some connection to holiness. Right now, I am working to re-incorporate the writing time I used to spend, for close to a decade, possibly more) every evening. From 10th grade until just when I joined the IDF, every evening I wrote (at least once a day). Sometimes i wrote more. I was a prolific LiveJournal-er until the site was sold, re-sold, moved to California, and then eventually moved (illegally) to Russia (seemingly without consequence…well, legal consequences…I am sure there were ramifications we have yet to really feel or discover).

What I realized is that I have been missing a part of my holiness: this period in the evening where I can have ink dance across the page. The period of moment where I can move thought to words to intention and intention to action. To speak life and truth into the co-creation of my own reality.

So I have found holy space in 9pm at night. I am trying to make it beyond a habit, and to transform this time period, every evening, into a holy space. My space. A space to write, to heal. To discuss. To imagine. To create. To plan. To ideate. 9pm is my time. 21:00 is a good evening hour. For the night belongs to Jacob.

I took yesterday, and today ‘off’ of work and responsibilities so I could be present for myself, and for self-care. It was just so necessary; I have found little reason to sit in front of a computer and pretend to work if my brain knows that it needs time to slow down, to do nothing, to do something by doing nothing. So yesterday was spent watching a friend play rugby in the park in the beautiful 60 degrees, and sunny weather, followed by an afternoon and evening with friends. Watching movies as much as we were conversing (safely) amongst ourselves.

Today I had intended as a writing day. My body didn’t allow for it (chronic illness is something that can’t be planned for…just planned around). So instead of frustrating myself, I slept as much as my body needed, and then visited some Ohana for a socially distanced birthday party, got hugs for the first time in a while from some loved ones who I missed (all vaccinated, all wearing masks, all breathing in a different direction; a calculated risk on our parts); and spent the time enjoying the holiness of our company. The holiness of coming together again.

Coming home, I had two meetings, and now, I find myself feeling more relaxed. Ready to do some cleaning before bed. Ready for the work week, and the academic week that lies ahead. Ready. Ready in general for all that may come my way this week. One step in front of the other, one small step, as I continue to breathe in, and breathe out, deeply, and with intention.

Until 9pm is as known to my body as my internal alarm clock at around 6am…just known, that now is the time to write…whether by laptop, or phone, or tablet…to put thoughts to this digital paper…it will be a habit that transforms into a practice.

Selah.