Call me, maybe?

“Love my Smart phone but miss the days when I wasn't accessible by everyone 24/7. I need to establish better boundaries between work time and home time.”

 

This was a recent post by a friend of mine that really has me thinking about boundaries.  I’ve actually been thinking about it quite a bit lately.  Technology has been such a blessing in so many ways; I love keeping track of my friends and family in Amarillo and Oregon this way.  But it does bring with it a number of liabilities.  Loss of privacy and down time being one of them.

 

Working in schools, we are warned about using caution with Facebook, Twitter, and other social media.  But I’ll admit that I love the convenience of having a Facebook page for my school.  I regularly post answers to student questions and announcements about important upcoming events. 

 

Recently though, I crossed a line into another area where most do not go.  Texting.  I am now among the many people who do not have a home phone.  I only have my cell.  I’d estimate that the vast majority of my students at school are the same.  Reaching them at “home” is next to impossible.  And as a high school counselor, I regularly have the need to reach students, not parents.  I need to know what class they would like to take since AP European History did not make.  I need to know their preference when AP Spanish Language and the band period they need are in conflict.  And I suppose the kids who take these types of classes might be considered the good and trustworthy ones, so why not text them?

 

But I also have the need to reach students who haven’t shown up to first period.  Kids who need to go sign up for a night school course.  Those who have lost credit for so many classes that their schedules are thirty minute logic puzzles with a variety of solution options that have to be discussed and weighed against available funds and time conflicts.

 

Mostly, students don’t answer their phones.  But they will answer a text.  I started texting kids quite a bit more this school year.  Our school allows texting in the hallways, and some teachers use them in class as part of the lesson.  I frequently receive emails and texts from kids during class.  It cracks me up. 

 

When students come see me these days, I always ask for their cell numbers and email addresses.  I promise I won’t forward dumb things or text them randomly.  I just want to be able to reach them when I need them.  They are only too happy to pass along the numbers. 

 

Oddly, the population I end up getting the most numbers from is the group who is woefully behind in credits, regularly tardy and/or absent, frequently high, and often have children.  Why?  Because these are the kids with whom I most regularly need to be in contact.  They gladly give me their numbers.  And even as I’m writing them down, I tell them that I want their numbers so that I can text or call them to harass them when they miss school.  So I can bug them when their grades drop.  So I can push and cajole and bug them all the way to the graduation finish line.

 

And you know what happens every single time?  They smile.

 

One such student recently gave me her number.  I had a variety of issues to work out on her schedule and ultimately took a picture of the new schedule on my computer screen and sent it to her.  Pretty cool, huh? 

 

Unfortunately, this same student and a friend of hers ran away.  She texted me about what was going on, and I called.  I wasn’t able to convince them to make a different choice.  Their parents have reported them as runaways, so the police are now involved. 

 

I don’t know where they are.  But thanks to that same boundary killing technology, I do know they are safe.  They promised to continue checking in with me.  I don’t know how long this will last.  I’m guessing that at some point they will abandon those phones; the police have those numbers.  But they do still have my number.  And I’m okay with that.  Maybe, just maybe, if they get too far in over their heads, they will reach out.