A House Divided Stands… (Sometimes)

How Communication Effects A Household

        Lincoln lied. Divided houses stand across America, yet we attribute it to “the way things are”. Everyday millions of people in the same house, presenting the image of unity while at the same time they live close, but very separate lives. They eat dinner, not surrounded by family, but instead accompanied by the internet and isolated in their own rooms. No longer are families burdened by spending time together, instead opting for YouTube to pass time like no board game ever could. Coming back from various affairs of the day to indulge in various affairs of the night, reconvening only on holidays to continue the facade. How did we get here? Are we seeing families anymore, or just strangers occupying the same space? I wish I had a better answer. No, I wish we had better accountability for the state at which we let things get to. Spending precious air to complain to others in this same state, sharing all too familiar experiences without thinking a solution even exists. I mean things could be worse… right? Was a home— no a house, supposed to be this lonely? I surely don’t think so. The memories of family dinner on Sunday refuse to let me believe so. Maybe the rose-colored glasses of youth have usurped my memories into fantasy, but I won’t— no I can’t turn my back on what I know families could be. What families should be. What families were.

     I think the solution is simpler than we allow it to be. The first hurdle being realizing there is a problem to begin with. This is not what we were made for. Humans are social creatures, the vast consumption of social media proves that. Let’s do some thinking. What changed so drastically in the span of a couple years to drive such a wedge in the modern family structure? This is the point where every online guru begins to kick social media as the plague of humanity. Three hundred likes? Oh, the horror of the timeline! I disagree. Nothing is “wrong” with phones— that’s a topic for another day. The main issue at hand is the crumbling of familial communication. The call for dinner used to be uncompromising. Sitting at the table forced us to talk, recap on events during the day, and talk about what’s ahead. This sort of family meeting was ubiquitous across America, similar to our plights of disconnection today.                                                                                                                       Let’s take it a step further. Are we to blame our lack of connection on the absence of a meal? What exactly did that chance of communication at dinner provide for us outside of dinner? Family dinner had one impact that changed the dynamic of houses in its absence: open lines of communication. It takes conversations about tests at school, to have conversations about drug abuse. Modern kids don’t feel comfortable talking to parents because we don’t do it enough. Communication, like anything else, is a skill. A skill that needs to be practiced, hours on hours, before authentic conversations even become realistic. It just so happened that dinner was the time for this. So, without dinner our confidantes went from our family to online. When’s the last time you ever heard of a “family secret”? It’s a harrowing thought for parents to realize that their kids share more with people millions of miles away, than with family sitting two feet apart. The truth is rarely comforting. The good news is that like most problems, there exists a solution. Bring back the days of check-ins, difficult conversations, and interest into the lives of others we live with. The line between curious and intrusive is thin, but to walk that line is to what it means to be part of a family. When talking becomes normal, an expected part of the duty of the home, our lives don’t change much. We still live our lives, independently walking through trials and tribulations in pursuit of tomorrow. Yet, how beautiful it is to grow among others, loving and guiding each other along the way. Yet, how comforting it is to know I always have a shoulder to roll tears upon, people to share in my joy, and people to hold me up against the relenting rain of life. These aren’t the desires of a lucky few, but what it means to be in a family, what it means to be human.

     So yes, Lincoln lied. A house divided can stand, but not well and surely not for long.