I Google, “How is Zoom changing us?” and a series of search results about how to transform your background into a beach in Bali or psychedelic cats comes up. I scroll, looking for anything that gets to deeper existential questions I’m starting to have, but I can’t find it. I decide that is an answer in and of itself.
As a teacher, and even as a person, being able to scan the room and respond to little bits of social information is really essential. To do that I need to be able to take everyone in at once. It's just not possible on zoom, even if you can see everyone's screen. I feel bad that I just can't track how each of my students seems to be engaging. Of course people are figuring out creative ways and shortcuts, as they always do, but it feels like a completely different thing.
I think a lot about this! I've never felt my body image concerns strengthen so quickly just because I'm looking at myself so freaking much every day. Also, I tried doing the setting where I couldn't see myself and others could and that felt WORSE. It felt like well at least when I see myself I can control the image they're getting. But of course in real life they're always seeing me while I can't see what they're seeing. It's all to say, yep zoom is doing weird things to our mind.
Thanks Courtney. I don't see how it can't be changing us, and as you point out there are both sides to how it impacts. My biggest concern is for the children. We are wired for touch and contact and togetherness and their little bodies are so very aware of that. I worry it will dull the desire to touch each other.
I love round Stella as antithesis of Zoom box. I realized the self view was actually causing me to tense my back and shoulders in particular ways that were causing painful havoc. Turned it off and immediately improved. There’s a metaphor there somewhere.
Honestly, I stay human by staying off zoom as much as I can. Which I know is not practical for many folks.
Some online gatherings are a gift, some are distractions. Sometimes we still have to go to the distractions.
I sifted out some criteria to help me decide whether to "attend" a zoom event (assuming it's something not otherwise required, like a work meeting). YMMV, of course, but I do think the exercise of looking for personal criteria is clarifying. Mine are something like this:
1) My presence is nourishing and/or helpful for both myself and other attendees.
2) The gathering is relatively small. (I am more-than-usually sensitive to external stimuli; it's good for me to limit the number of folks I am talking or listening to at a given time. This is especially important for online gatherings because the rules of both verbal and non-verbal engagement are different than in person, and so less familiar to navigate.)
3) The gathering cannot be better facilitated in another way. (For example, I avoid family zooms. We had no tradition of those before COVID, and I would, as before, rather call my relatives individually on the phone, or exchange letters.)
4) No more than 1-2 online events per week. Other than work, no standing online events that take place more often than about once a month. (My goodness does this keep my stress level down. In fact, this is similar to what I was beginning to learn with physical events before COVID—only it didn't seem possible to stick to, back then. COVID has shown me how sanity-inducing, for me personally, it actually is to limit how often I gather with more than just a one or two people. How to balance this with my obligations and my desires to be helpful as a community member is still difficult!)
Courtney, your account of your women's group inspired me to create a modified one to get me through an Idaho winter during a pandemic. Think: big coats, soup in mugs, and heartfelt sharing around a campfire. Do you have any further resources on how to get something like this going?
I am wondering if change is the right word. What about something more like "how are we the same in a different way"? Sort of like how you hinted at at the end of the essay-we always bring our unconscious with us. Its made invisible things visible and visible, tangible things intangible and invisible. Its like we are the same and everything around is changing-how do we want to respond?
As a teacher, and even as a person, being able to scan the room and respond to little bits of social information is really essential. To do that I need to be able to take everyone in at once. It's just not possible on zoom, even if you can see everyone's screen. I feel bad that I just can't track how each of my students seems to be engaging. Of course people are figuring out creative ways and shortcuts, as they always do, but it feels like a completely different thing.
I think a lot about this! I've never felt my body image concerns strengthen so quickly just because I'm looking at myself so freaking much every day. Also, I tried doing the setting where I couldn't see myself and others could and that felt WORSE. It felt like well at least when I see myself I can control the image they're getting. But of course in real life they're always seeing me while I can't see what they're seeing. It's all to say, yep zoom is doing weird things to our mind.
The description of that women's group moved me to tears. So poetic, so true. So missed. That is all.
Thanks Courtney. I don't see how it can't be changing us, and as you point out there are both sides to how it impacts. My biggest concern is for the children. We are wired for touch and contact and togetherness and their little bodies are so very aware of that. I worry it will dull the desire to touch each other.
I love round Stella as antithesis of Zoom box. I realized the self view was actually causing me to tense my back and shoulders in particular ways that were causing painful havoc. Turned it off and immediately improved. There’s a metaphor there somewhere.
Have you seen this? https://theconvivialsociety.substack.com/p/a-theory-of-zoom-fatigue This essay helped me enormously in sorting through the question of why it's so tiring to video conference all the time.
Honestly, I stay human by staying off zoom as much as I can. Which I know is not practical for many folks.
Some online gatherings are a gift, some are distractions. Sometimes we still have to go to the distractions.
I sifted out some criteria to help me decide whether to "attend" a zoom event (assuming it's something not otherwise required, like a work meeting). YMMV, of course, but I do think the exercise of looking for personal criteria is clarifying. Mine are something like this:
1) My presence is nourishing and/or helpful for both myself and other attendees.
2) The gathering is relatively small. (I am more-than-usually sensitive to external stimuli; it's good for me to limit the number of folks I am talking or listening to at a given time. This is especially important for online gatherings because the rules of both verbal and non-verbal engagement are different than in person, and so less familiar to navigate.)
3) The gathering cannot be better facilitated in another way. (For example, I avoid family zooms. We had no tradition of those before COVID, and I would, as before, rather call my relatives individually on the phone, or exchange letters.)
4) No more than 1-2 online events per week. Other than work, no standing online events that take place more often than about once a month. (My goodness does this keep my stress level down. In fact, this is similar to what I was beginning to learn with physical events before COVID—only it didn't seem possible to stick to, back then. COVID has shown me how sanity-inducing, for me personally, it actually is to limit how often I gather with more than just a one or two people. How to balance this with my obligations and my desires to be helpful as a community member is still difficult!)
Courtney, your account of your women's group inspired me to create a modified one to get me through an Idaho winter during a pandemic. Think: big coats, soup in mugs, and heartfelt sharing around a campfire. Do you have any further resources on how to get something like this going?
This Music Teacher (me) cried too after saying hi to first and second graders this week.
I am wondering if change is the right word. What about something more like "how are we the same in a different way"? Sort of like how you hinted at at the end of the essay-we always bring our unconscious with us. Its made invisible things visible and visible, tangible things intangible and invisible. Its like we are the same and everything around is changing-how do we want to respond?