As Americans, we’re not doing it right. We’re not partying. We’re not hosting dinner parties, let alone even having a room in our houses to dine. We’re not gathering or joining or belonging. We order takeout more than we sit down in a restaurant. We’re staying home, canceling plans with friends at the last minute. We’re not leaving the house to go to the movies or the library or the coffee shop or church.
Welcome to what newspapers, magazine and even the former surgeon general is calling the “anti-social” century. Loneliness is an epidemic. Markers of social health, which include gathering with others to share a meal or prayer, are declining. Experts in the areas of health, education, politics, and civics are concerned.
Whenever a headline decrying America’s worrisome cultural trend toward social isolation lands in my inbox or mailbox, I devour the story. As a mom of two young children, I’m particularly curious to learn more about changes to our social fabric, especially since Covid-19 when my kids, then a newborn and a preschooler, had their lives turned upside down. I’m also a writing instructor at Flathead Valley Community College, so most of my days are spent working with two groups of students at the college: credit or degree students, many — but not all — of whom fall into the traditional age range of 18-23 and individuals taking part in the continuing education programs, many — but not all — of whom are working professionals or retired. I have the distinct pleasure of teaching and learning from a wide swath of generations and folded into lessons on essay writing we talk a lot about contemporary life and culture. Including how to belong, how to create, how to learn, and how to build community in a culture that seems determined to eliminate humans from humanity. While the news may add report after worrying report about the loneliness impacting millions of Americans, I see a different side.
I do believe there are forces — mostly technological and driven by greed — that are influencing us to opt out of pizza night with friends or avoid joining a group to discuss books or play Dungeons and Dragons. The insidious rise of Artificial Intelligence doesn’t help. I don’t think the Flathead Valley is particularly expectational other than its natural beauty in that we face many of the same issues that towns face across the country but there appears to be a concerted effort to create in person social connections. I don’t want to downplay the real harm that many experience from social isolation, yet I find this place inspires and encourages people to get together to do what humans have done for thousands of years: enjoy each other’s company. What that looks like has dramatically changed throughout time; our Neanderthal likely teased each other about spear throwing misses whereas we modern humans rib each other for a missed free throw or a yard sale on the ski hill. Although the type of government-created social opportunities, including The New Deal’s construction of public spaces, have declined since the post-World II inception, I still observe the creative ways people across the valley find ways to create community. Unlike many metropolitan areas that have many options for indoor public spaces, our gathering grounds tend to be trailheads or fishing access sites. We do have a robust and popular public library system in the Flathead that goes well beyond checking out books.
My observations from campus to the preschool classroom is that despite the lure of endless streaming entertainment options or the hollow promise of a relationship from a computer, is that people still want to live, real, and even messy social relationships. We’re aware of the ways in which these connections continue to be threatened and it’s sobering to discuss them and learn how others being social in what’s being dubbed as the “anti-social” century. There are many ways in which our country can do better but I don’t think we’re doing it all wrong. But just in case we are, I’m willing to eat more pizza with friends.