Family (The kitchen table)

Listening to my grandfather’s captivating stories, I found myself yearning to experience the vivid world of his childhood. It was an era influenced by the KKK and the challenging lifestyle of sharecropping, yet my grandfather’s stories also incorporated the wonders of television and technological gadgets from the 70s, 80s, and 90s—elements he himself lived without. As a child, one of the most enlightening questions I asked him was about the impact of the Great Depression on his life. His response was simple: he didn’t realize there was an economic crisis at the time. While money held some importance, his family valued land and livestock even more. He explained that they could go days, even weeks, without spending any money.

Survival meant planting and slaughtering their own food, cutting down trees for heating and cooking, and not even contemplating the luxury of air conditioning. Money was reserved for purchasing fabric, tools, and other essentials for their daily lives.

My grandfather had only completed eighth grade, yet he was the most intelligent person I had ever spent time with, surpassing even my own academic achievements as I pursued my dissertation to become Dr. Hauser. Family was the cornerstone of his life—a value he instilled in me. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were sacred moments when everyone in the household would gather at the table, say grace, and share a meal. The significance of these family dinners didn’t truly resonate with me until I became a teacher and a parent myself. They served as a check-in, where questions abounded, and conversations could stretch into lengthy discussions, especially when we had a table full of children, as my grandfather would take in all the grandchildren for the summer.

The dining room table became a classroom of life for me, a place where I learned invaluable lessons. It was where I faced punishment, received rewards, heard words of wisdom, and even slept when necessary. Its routine provided structure and stability during my childhood and adolescence. The dishes we ate also became a subtle indicator of our financial situation. Pasta and rice meant times were tight, while steak or chicken signified prosperity. If we had fish, it meant we had caught it ourselves during a successful fishing trip. I don’t recall my grandfather ever purchasing fish, as I developed an aversion to it after a fish bone incident almost took my life. But today, I’ve come to love fish for the convenience of buying it boneless.

Looking back, I don’t remember feeling poor as a child. We always had what we needed, and there was usually an adult present in the household. As a single mother working the night shift, my mother would be home when we weren’t sleeping, although she was often fatigued, and my siblings and I took advantage of that. Still, we managed to have dinner together as a family until I started working at 16 and couldn’t be home for dinner regularly. Yet, I’m fairly certain that the tradition continued even in my absence. My grandfather, retired and always at home, made it a rare occasion for us to skip a family dinner. Even during my college years, when I lived with my grandfather and my grandmother joined us, I would share meals with them at the table. The unspoken importance of these dinners resonated through my grandfather’s actions—he cooked, had dinner ready, and instructed us on when to be home. We always made it on time. And with ten or more people gathered around the table, you learned to claim your seat early, lest you end up with the leftovers.

In the fast-paced, technology-filled world we live in today, the concept of having dinner as a family may seem unfamiliar to some. However, I hold deep respect for those who continue to prioritize this tradition, and I have actively been working towards making it a routine in my own family’s life by next year. Unfortunately, as people navigate their busy lives, they are increasingly being pulled apart. The combination of technology and the demands of the economy has created a chaotic existence for many families. Cell phones, in particular, have taken over people’s social lives, even when they are physically together. It has become common to see a group of individuals at a restaurant, each engrossed in their own cell phones. At times, it feels as if they could have stayed home and done the same thing. I must admit that I have found myself falling into the same habit. To counter this, I have implemented a rule in my household that prohibits cell phones at the kitchen table. Moreover, while writing this, I have made the decision to establish a no cell phone zone in our dining room.
Now, why is technology detrimental to family life? Let me clarify that it is not entirely negative. However, technology exposes us to countless material items that we don’t truly need, often presenting them as cool or desirable, reminiscent of past television advertisements. During my own upbringing, the Marlboro Man was considered the epitome of cool, leading many to smoke simply because he did. Back then, not every household had multiple televisions, so children watched what their parents watched. Personally, I found the humor of the 70s and 80s to be lacking, choosing to entertain myself by throwing a ball against a wall for hours when I was alone. Nowadays, both children and adults are constantly attached to their devices, consumed by them 24/7. It troubles me that the first thing I look at when I wake up is my cell phone, and I believe many can relate to this habit. I spent the first 25 years of my life without a cell phone, then the next 25 years with one, and now I find myself yearning for a way to live the next 25 years without it. I simply long to reconnect with people in real life, to be fully present and engaged. It is genuinely refreshing to go on a hike without the distraction of a cell phone. I encourage you to give it a try.
As technology has taken over the world, we have witnessed rising prices and a decrease in quality time spent with one another, particularly within families. In many cases, both parents are working, sometimes even juggling multiple jobs to keep up with the demands of the economy. Consequently, our children are left with an excessive amount of time spent learning from their cell phones. They absorb information on various topics, such as sex, dance, violence, politics, and relationships primarily from their devices—not from their parents, but from platforms like YouTube and TikTok. It is no wonder that people, especially children, often feel lost. I must admit that I, too, struggle to resist these distractions for more than a few weeks. Almost everything in life that is truly built to last takes years, if not decades, to develop. In my opinion, family was the most crucial aspect of human existence in generations past.

I longed for the kind of family structure portrayed on The Cosby Show, where the father, mother, and siblings would genuinely connect and spend quality time together. However, in today’s world, I frequently witness parents tirelessly shuttling their kids to various activities like sports and dance, leaving little room for meaningful family bonding. It is essential to recognize that relationships hold greater significance than material possessions such as cars, big homes, or fashion. Rebuilding a strong sense of family will undoubtedly be a challenging journey that may extend across generations, if we ever manage to achieve it. It seems like only yesterday when playgrounds were empty at 6 pm because American families were gathered around the dinner table. Nowadays, the omnipresent internet easily distracts us, leaving the playgrounds deserted. Children are engrossed in their own pursuits, and families spend less and less time together in face-to-face interactions. I earnestly hope that as a society, we can reintroduce some of the traditional family values into our homes and prioritize the importance of genuine connection.

Thank you for reading

Your friend, Wakime