Woog's World / Always wired, always on

Earlier this month, the returning Staples High School boys varsity soccer players headed deep into Maine. Each year we spend a few days on a "team bonding" trip. This year's adventure involved whitewater rafting, a high ropes course, tent cabins in the woods, and several nights around a campfire.

Those were highlights-- but so was the complete lack of cell service. In fact, as soon as the boys realized they were cut off from their usual multiple sources of communication, they were pleased.

Suddenly -- and for one of their first times ever -- they were cut off from their parents. Unsurprisingly, they were unconcerned about their inability to tell Mom and Dad that they'd arrived safely, were about to go on a hike, or may have just romped in poison ivy.

I was surprised, though, that the players were happy to be cut off from their Westport friends.

One boy expressed it clearly. "Thank God I don't have to keep checking texts," he said.

They were not alone.

A few days later, I caught up with a Staples student. He'd just returned from a six-week cross-country trip. He loved the entire experience. Amid his exuberance for seeing the country, meeting new friends and getting physically fit, he added this: "It was awesome not having to worry about cell phones, texting, Facebook. It was actually liberating."

The mind boggles.

Teenagers, it turns out, dislike being constantly wired as much as we dislike their ubiquitous connectivity (and our own). In fact, adults shoulder much of the blame for the current situation.

A couple of years ago, Staples rescinded its cell phone ban. They're now allowed in the hallways, cafeteria -- spots like that (provided you can find reception). Of course, cell phones are not to be used in class, under any circumstances.

Some students try to circumvent the ban. They text surreptitiously, behind books or underneath desks (without looking at the screen -- they're that good). To avoid temptation, some teachers ask students to place their cells on desks, where everyone can see them.

Occasionally, phones vibrate during class. The student glances down. Invariably, he or she looks up quickly, chagrined.

"Sorry," the boy or girl says. "It's my mom."

If teenagers can't prevent themselves from texting, neither can their parents. The calls run the gamut: "Don't forget your orthodontist appointment this afternoon." "How'd you do on your physics test?" "Did you ask your English teacher for that college recommendation?"

The parents think these texts are important -- and that it's important for them to keep the lines of communication open with their children. Their kids find it intrusive and annoying.

So does the staff. Last year principal John Dodig sent a note to parents, reminding them of the ban on cell phones in class, and asking them to save texts for real emergencies. (He delivered the message by e-mail, not text.)

Teenagers are aware of the stereotype they have as uncontrollable texters and cell callers. They don't like it.

"You never see kids with a Bluetooth," one said to me. "And we're not the ones texting and calling when we drive."

He's right. An informal survey -- one that was ludicrously easy, because I sat at a corner for 10 minutes and saw more examples than I needed -- showed that the vast majority of Westport drivers calling behind the wheel (only a few were texting) are adults.

A few weeks ago, a woman nearly creamed me from behind in the Fresh Market parking lot. Watching the traffic ahead was far less important to her than speaking (and wildly gesticulating) on her cell. As she parked -- sheepishly -- a few spots down from me, I saw she had a passenger: a little girl.

When she sends a message by phone, what message is she sending to her child? That it's OK to flout the law, because she's the mommy? Because whatever her conversation was about, it was clearly Very Important?

I don't know. I do know one thing: Children model the behavior of their parents. One day, a few years from now, her daughter might do whatever the then-popular version of distracted driving will be. There may be serious vehicular consequences. Will her mother be upset, and wonder how her child could be so thoughtless, careless and reckless? Will she recognize the link between her daughter's behavior, and her own?

Our trip to the Maine woods was instructive. Spending several days together, I learned a lot about a group of teenagers I thought I knew pretty well. Their personalities came through in ways I hadn't always seen -- individually and collectively.

I learned too that life as a kid in 2010 is not what it seems. Teenagers are constantly connected to parents and peers. But they may not always want to be.

Dan Woog is a Westport writer. Read more from him during the week at www.westport-news.com. His personal blog is www.danwoog06880.com; his e-mail is dwoog@optonline.net