Dear 1922

Dear 1922,

I hope this letter finds you on a clear day in May, the branches of a newly planted tree quivering in the breeze, which I’d like to think are the same branches of an old oak tree I imagine, swaying near a grassy hill.

I wish I could explain clearly how much I wish I lived in your time. To forget the things of the 21st century and live permanently and forever in yours. Of course it’s quite the catch-22 isn’t it, bc as it is I am typing this letter to you on a Chromebook. What’s a Chromebook you wonder? It’s basically an internet box. What’s the internet you say? Dear me. This is a tricky letter to write.

I want you to know the convenience of the internet, the advances in medicine, the strides in equality, and all of the wonderful things in between you and now. But there is such a large part of me that wishes I could jump back in time and no longer be bombarded with more information than I need. Back to a time when the newspaper was how everyone caught up on the news. Imagine that.

I want to tell you about email, text messages, social media and facetime, and all the numerous ways to communicate with one another in 2020. But then I’d have to tell you how cheap and false it all feels. That when you, 1922, speak face to face with someone, it is truly quite extraordinary.

I hope you know how brave it is when you tell someone how you feel. When you speak it and express exactly what it is you are thinking. It’s so easy to retract something in 2020. I imagine words and intentions are more genuine for you because you can’t take it back like we can today. Everyone is so careless with their words. No one thinks their words matter.

It’s hard, 1922, because I know I am an obvious product of my generation. I use all of these ways of communication. I do try to be mindful of how I receive information, but even my best attempts are feeble. Plus, I have been on the receiving end of amazing medical technology. If you knew about organ transplants! And while it is still far from as it should be, we have made big strides in equality. To be a woman or a person of color TODAY is not how it was for you.

And perhaps that’s what I'm getting at; while time moving forward is inevitable and progress is good, communication will always be there and I’m not so sure it's something that always needs improving. We already knew how to communicate with one another. And yes, lies and propaganda and misinformation has and will always be a part of communication...but wouldn't it be nice to really know where information is coming from or, better yet, have a clearer idea of how to track down the source of it all? To know with more certainty the reliability of what you read?

I hope you know that in 100 years, there will be people who look back at your letters and postcards, your notes, your telegrams, your requests to the operator, and see something very human and genuine. There will be people with a longing for intent and a purpose with words; attention spans that last longer than 5 seconds (not an exaggeration!). I almost don’t want to tell you that today, most people wouldn’t even take the time to read a letter this long.

I ache to know what it’s like to be with you, 1922, but since I cannot know, all I can come up with is to look at the old tree near the hill and wonder what it has seen. How many generations of us has it watched come and go? Do you wonder, like I do, if the trees can talk to one another? Can they communicate?

And if they can, wonder at how they haven’t changed a thing.