The Validity of Virtual Connection

Land Acknowledgment:
I would like to acknowledge that the land in which I live belongs to the traditional Territories of the Three Fire Peoples: the Ojibwe (oh jib-way), Odawa (ah dough wah), and Bodewadmi (bah-dough-wahd-me). As we work, live, and play on these territories we must keep in mind the ongoing effects of colonization, community struggle for self-determination, colonial state violence and the recognition of Indigenous sovereignty.

The Validity of Virtual Connection

Unlike the kids who spent their childhood begging for more screen time, I used to wish my mother gave me less. Growing up, I didn’t have any real restrictions on how much time I could spend using a cellphone or watching television throughout the day. I thought that maybe if my mom was more strict with the screen time she allotted for me I wouldn’t have to muster up the self-discipline needed to limit myself.

Yet, she seemed to have an inherent trust in me and my siblings that we’d be able to decide for ourselves when enough was enough. To an extent, she was correct in this assumption. For as much time as we spent staring at the television, we’d spend twice as much outside playing make believe with stick-swords and magic rocks. Now, as an adult, I’m fairly good at asserting when I’ve been scrolling through Twitter for too long. Although the temptation is still there, my mother’s unique parenting style prepared me for an ability to put the phone down and make “real life” connections.

However, after the majority of the year of 2020 was spent making connections online, I’m starting to come to a conclusion that my past self would have never agreed with. Now, online connections and communication holds as much value to me as in-person relationships do. When in-person connections can endanger the ones we love and care for most, our virtual reality becomes more real than our “real” reality. Virtual connections become just as valid as “real-life” ones. Davis Shakespeare Festival’s Digital Internship Program is an amazing example of this.

Being a low-income student, internships are a privilege I am sometimes not fortunate enough to indulge in. Food and housing for fancy internship programs where the experience is the compensation hasn’t always been an option for me. Yet, with DSF’s Digital Internship Program, I’m able to get a credit on my resume at the cost of access to a computer and time, which I am fortunate enough to have. It’s amazing really, being able to make connections with people from all over the United States and Canada. Bonding over a shared love for theatre, and having an ability to collaborate on something in a pandemic-world where artistic collaboration is a luxury.

The connections, and I’ll even go so far as to say friendships, that I’ve made through the screen of my MacBook during this time are very valid to me, even though they’re virtual. During our weekly town halls and pod meetings, the internship participants are doing our own type of playing make believe outside with stick-swords and magic rocks. We’re getting to create a world of make-believe inside of our screens. The laughter I share with my production pod via Zoom is as genuine as the laughter I’d share in an in-person rehearsal room. In fact, I sometimes even forget I’m online.

Image Credits:

Hawgood, Alex. “How to Use Zoom Like a Theater or Film Professional.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 27 May 2020, www.nytimes.com/2020/05/27/t-magazine/zoom-tips-coronavirus.html.

 

Alix Lila Curnow (She/They)

DSF Digital Internship Participant

University of Michigan Class of 2021

School of Music, Theatre and Dance