Last night I attended a performance of a small play in which my daughter appeared. We don’t usually record her performances, but we are the rare in that regard. We sat near the back and our line of sight was broken by the bright screens of phones and tablets held over heads or reached into the aisle. One guy was even holding up two phones. It used to be that those parents would stand in the back with their video cameras on tripods, excessive perhaps, but disturbing no one. Now, it’s a free for all. Screens seem to take precedence over eyes that just want to watch it the first time. Recording an activity interrupts the experience of it. Maybe that’s what they want, some distance, some way to keep busy. Perhaps they think it’s a requirement of parenting, to document everything for posterity and the grandparents.
I don’t want to capture, to snare and trap, my daughter’s life, I want to share it with her.