E-mailing is first on the continuum of technological intimacy. Next comes instant messenger, then texting and, finally, the telephone. My generation grew up on communication technology; we develop thumb problems from texting and we feel like we’re missing something as essential as underwear when we go out without our cell phones. Anyone who went to junior high since the advent of the Internet and instant messenger understands the continuum: when you’ve been texting or IM-ing another 13-year-old of the opposite sex and suddenly he or she wants to call you, that’s a big leap.

Even once we leave junior high, communication is sometimes more comfortable when it’s not in person.

Nineteen-year-old Ryan French, who has his own Web site and who texts faster than I can speak, said, “Texting is definitely a big part of starting relationships for me. I find there’s a lot less pressure when talking to someone through texts. They work as a good ice breaker, a good way to get comfortable talking to someone without too much awkwardness.”

It’s certainly true. Texting is less personal, more removed and allows us to feel connected with minimal involvement. It takes the edge off some of that social terror that accompanies us through adolescence (and perhaps the rest of our lives, although I can’t yet say for sure).

According to French, “…One of my friends was actually going to try to text her boss because calling was ‘too scary.’”

What makes it so scary? Why are we terrified of the closeness and connection we seem to want? Could we apply that truism, “everyone wants a free lunch,” to relationships? We want the feeling of connectedness and the security it creates without having to give of our time or energy.

Take Facebook, for example. I have above 100 “friends” on Facebook, but only about 10 (and that’s pushing it) who know my favorite food or my dog’s name. I can look at pictures of any of my friends’ summer vacations, just as they can look at pictures of mine. We even post pictures of each other, smiling together at the camera, maintaining the cyberspace illusion of closeness that isn’t always consistent with our real-life relationships. On Facebook, I can keep up on the basics of what’s going on in the lives of my friends and acquaintances without ever taking a shower or leaving my room.

A parody of our generation, my brother and I text each other from across the center divider on long car trips and IM each other from our adjacent bedrooms. And yet, if it’s faster and less intrusive for us to IM one another about when dinner is as we’re both finishing homework, is it really so ridiculous?

There is certainly a difference in the way the generations would answer this question.

French said, “My dad … refuses to even own a cell phone and would rather drive to talk to someone in person than to call. It really shows how different our generation is. According to my dad, having a cell phone and text messaging … just means people can tell you what to do faster. He says it’s like a leash. If he doesn’t have a cell phone, he can do his thing without being disturbed.”

A valid point. What do I think? Rly, idk.

Hannah Joo is an Inglemoor High graduate.

E-mailing is first on the continuum of technological intimacy. Next comes instant messenger, then texting and, finally, the telephone. My generation grew up on communication technology; we develop thumb problems from texting and we feel like we’re missing something as essential as underwear when we go out without our cell phones. Anyone who went to junior high since the advent of the Internet and instant messenger understands the continuum: when you’ve been texting or IM-ing another 13-year-old of the opposite sex and suddenly he or she wants to call you, that’s a big leap.

Even once we leave junior high, communication is sometimes more comfortable when it’s not in person.

Nineteen-year-old Ryan French, who has his own Web site and who texts faster than I can speak, said, “Texting is definitely a big part of starting relationships for me. I find there’s a lot less pressure when talking to someone through texts. They work as a good ice breaker, a good way to get comfortable talking to someone without too much awkwardness.”

It’s certainly true. Texting is less personal, more removed and allows us to feel connected with minimal involvement. It takes the edge off some of that social terror that accompanies us through adolescence (and perhaps the rest of our lives, although I can’t yet say for sure).

According to French, “…One of my friends was actually going to try to text her boss because calling was ‘too scary.’”

What makes it so scary? Why are we terrified of the closeness and connection we seem to want? Could we apply that truism, “everyone wants a free lunch,” to relationships? We want the feeling of connectedness and the security it creates without having to give of our time or energy.

Take Facebook, for example. I have above 100 “friends” on Facebook, but only about 10 (and that’s pushing it) who know my favorite food or my dog’s name. I can look at pictures of any of my friends’ summer vacations, just as they can look at pictures of mine. We even post pictures of each other, smiling together at the camera, maintaining the cyberspace illusion of closeness that isn’t always consistent with our real-life relationships. On Facebook, I can keep up on the basics of what’s going on in the lives of my friends and acquaintances without ever taking a shower or leaving my room.

A parody of our generation, my brother and I text each other from across the center divider on long car trips and IM each other from our adjacent bedrooms. And yet, if it’s faster and less intrusive for us to IM one another about when dinner is as we’re both finishing homework, is it really so ridiculous?

There is certainly a difference in the way the generations would answer this question.

French said, “My dad … refuses to even own a cell phone and would rather drive to talk to someone in person than to call. It really shows how different our generation is. According to my dad, having a cell phone and text messaging … just means people can tell you what to do faster. He says it’s like a leash. If he doesn’t have a cell phone, he can do his thing without being disturbed.”

A valid point. What do I think? Rly, idk.

Hannah Joo is an Inglemoor High graduate.