The other day, I was drinking an iced latte with my mom when my phone buzzed – and suddenly, I wasn’t really there anymore.
Instead of making conversation, I started replying to emails. My mom noticed right away.
“Why do you have to look at that stuff right now? I want you to enjoy your time,” I remember her saying.
As always, she was right. I should have just been enjoying that moment.
But I could not ignore it.
On some level, I have been trained to look. To always check. I am expected to have Outlook on my phone, and even though no one told me to respond instantly, I still felt like I had to.
There’s always something to keep up with. An announcement that class is canceled. A due date that’s changed. A grade that’s been posted. Work might need to reach me, or someone from my club might be waiting for my reply.
And outside of all that, I’m still a normal person with friends and family who text, call, and expect me to be available too.
It’s like my brain has become a desktop with twenty tabs open. School, work, relationships, and responsibilities all compete for my attention at once. No matter how hard I try, I can’t fully focus on one thing without feeling like I’m neglecting something else.
This constant pull isn’t just a student problem. It is part of a culture where being always ‘on’ is expected.
As Neumann field hockey coach and former teacher, Dana Ott explained, “Teachers are extremely committed to their students’ success and growth. With helpful tools like email and school apps, they stay connected to support students and families beyond the classroom.”
She added that with technology always at their fingertips, it’s natural for teachers to feel like they need to be available at all times. Coaches, she said, face similar challenges: managing social media, recruiting athletes, and staying connected outside of practice. “Their dedication and whatever-it-takes mentality come from a genuine passion for helping student-athletes grow and succeed.”
Just like me, who feels the tug of emails, messages, and notifications competing for my attention, teachers and coaches experience constant demands. Somewhere along the way, being available 24/7 became a measure of care.
But what about our real lives? How do we show care if we’re never fully present? The truth is, constant connection doesn’t always mean genuine presence. Sometimes, the more we try to stay available, the less we actually show up.
Maybe it is okay to close a few tabs, miss a notification, and take a breath. To be fully present, even if it is just for a moment over an iced latte with your mom. Showing up for the people and moments that matter does not always happen in real time. It happens when we choose to be truly there.
