In every corner of the campus, there is a faint glow — the glow of phones lighting up on desks and laptops balanced on our knees during free blocks. At Concord Academy, screens have become part of our daily rhythm: chipping in on the Orah app, replying to emails, or scheduling appointments. Electronics guide almost every step we take. Yet beyond helping us organize our lives, they quietly shape how we think, react, and connect.

Instant connection has changed our sense of time. With a few taps, we can text a friend, submit our homework, or get an answer from artificial intelligence. But this constant efficiency comes at a price: we begin to lose patience. Often, waiting even a few seconds for a reply or a page to load feels painful, sometimes even driving us crazy. Our minds are then prepared to expect speed rather than the usual stability. Over time, this expectation alters how we handle boredom and focus. We desire stimulation so much that even quiet moments — like sitting or eating alone — start to feel discomfiting, embarrassing, or even empty.

Social media takes that stimulation even further. Platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and Snapchat constantly feed us with updates, likes, and streaks that make comparison inevitable. Notifications pull us back to checking who viewed, who commented, and who cared. The more we scroll, the more our self-worth comes to rely on what happens on screens. It is a strange paradox: we feel deeply connected to hundreds of people, yet more isolated than ever. Validation becomes digital, and our confidence rises and falls with the number of likes on a post rather than the conversions we have in person.

Even in learning, technology reshapes how we think. At school, laptops and iPads make it effortless to take notes, research, or collaborate online. Yet they also make distraction only a click or swipe away. Switching between tabs — homework assignments, email, Instagram — has trained our brains to move fast but shallowly. We get used to skimming instead of studying, reacting instead of reflecting. The ability to focus entirely on one task — for example, reading a long novel — feels harder to reach. The same tools that make us efficient can weaken the patience and focus that real learning requires.

Our lives and thoughts have already been altered by technology, frequently in ways we are unaware of. It offers us access, power, and speed, but it also drastically alters our emotions, focus, and patience. If we can learn to use electronics with intentions instead of impulse, we might finally turn all the distractions into depth and connection into understanding.