In Times of Political Crisis, We Scroll
The year I spent interning at an immigration law firm, most of my evenings would include eating ice cream from a local shop accompanied by a few hours of scrolling on plenty of social media platforms. My days were consumed by school papers with deadlines, evidence packets, translations, and client phone calls, and unceremoniously ended on TikTok. By day I found solace in the use of social media during free time in a classroom or an office, but that solace failed me over time as I became more absorbed by my device. That was 2 years ago. The struggle continues.
How do we draw the line between being in touch with everything and being consumed by it? Where is the hope when sometimes it looks like there is none?
Social media previously functioned as an ill-mannered but amiable companion who helped us take a break from the relentless reports of catastrophes and partisan politics. But now, fueled by addictive algorithms, doomscrolling is part of daily life. The supposed light-heartedness once associated with Instagram and TikTok is no longer, as news channels and partisan organizations rely on the apps as their primary method of outsourcing assertive content. Where does one find solace from the contemporary world? Perhaps access to information on such a scale is a good thing, to be constantly given insight into everything and anything. However, I question what is the gain and what is the overall effect. Knowledge, yes. But also, anxiety, dread, and poor mental health.
An Unsustainable Paradox
As I try to maintain a responsible vigilance about national and global news, the exhausting measures of scrolling endlessly create a paradox that is impossible to sustain. How do we draw the line between being in touch with everything and being consumed by it? How do we come together as a community to rally for urgent causes and issues but also protect our mental health from the casual cruelty we see online across the world? Where is the hope when sometimes it looks like there is none?
There is no perfect answer, but what if the way to discovering hope, joy, trust, or good mental health amidst all the chaos includes social media? In my experience, it can curate a personal ideal and aesthetic that contradicts the current state of the world and results in a balance of two powers: knowledge and escapism. Setting time and screen limits on our phones is the most straightforward tactic, but it is only a temporary fix—it fails to create a sense of liberation or healing, leaving many of us to wrestle with the fear of missing out. I have to find other ways to disconnect.
Cookbooks and Morning Prayer
The attachment to our phones and social media constantly threatens to bury our physical world connections; every day I must seek to protect my boundaries and find the right equilibrium. In order to alleviate the mental strain, I search for heart-soothing hobbies. Sometimes this calming, balanced state occurs on long walks or hikes around state parks, solo and accompanied by a podcast (for personal advice I go to Se Regalan Dudas; for some history or ancient mythology, Let’s Talk about Myths, Baby!), or by spending time with friends face-to-face who talk about everything and nothing.
Other times, disconnecting includes listening to a good playlist, perfecting family recipes, and learning new ones from Rick Martinez’s recent cookbook. When all else fails to settle me down, I listen to morning or evening prayers: Even if I have a complex relationship with faith, I will always have some inclinations stemming from my Catholic background. And if that still doesn’t help, I resort to journaling. Since my teenage years, journaling has provided me with solace. It’s a thoughtful writing exercise and adventure that allows me to express my joys, sorrows, and fears. There’s a certain peace that descends upon writing things down—nothing is resolved, but it’s helpful to sort issues out, reflect on them, and put a lot of things in perspective.
Small Acts of Patriotism
These days, I don’t belong to a congregation or church, but I have found a Sunday ritual that provides order and peace. I do not remember the exact moment it started, but for nearly 24 Sundays out of the year, I watch a Formula 1 Grand Prix. Races typically begin at 9 a.m. local time, which sets the tone for my morning coffee or matcha before settling in with one of my cats who enjoys the sound of the cars on the track. For about an hour and a half, I watch 20 men race in million-dollar cars, and somehow it soothes and allows me to detach from the world of frenzied news. Race day (I’m partial to the McLaren team) brings a sense of ease to my morning, giving it structure and substance. This routine shapes half of my year and keeps me content as well as eager for what is to come next season.
Using cooking, hiking, journaling, and sports as a palate cleanser from the constant messiness of the world are, to me, small acts of patriotism, and I realize it’s a privilege to pursue them. I resemble NFL fans who dedicate their Sundays to football and have a deep belief and hope their team will prevail against all odds. The freedom to escape into these forms without threat to my safety is liberating. And yet, some cannot find relief from the strife in their community and world.
As the days get shorter and the year comes to a close with the first drafts of new resolutions, it is essential to ground ourselves in the acts of daily life. Drawing the line between social media enlightenment and doomscrolling will become harder than ever—so remaining close to loved ones and nurturing one’s enthusiasms is essential. Once the 2024 F1 season ends, I’ll fill my Sundays with hiking or supporting friends at intramural soccer games. While my screen time will increase as the political days escalate, it will also include time on Spotify to make sure my Pasta Sunday playlist stays in good shape. Some days endless scrolling feels uncontrollable, but it’s the little things embedded in my routine that keep me grounded in the wake of social and political upheaval.
Dafne Villanueva ’24 M.A.R. plans to go to law school with a vocational focus on helping immigrants and women in her native Texas. She majored in theology at St. Edward’s University in Austin, where she got journalism experience. While at YDS, she interned at a New Haven law firm that represents refugees, immigrants, and asylum seekers.