Speculative Futures
“Mel, don’t forget that you have your English summative today” mum blurts out before taking a sip of her coffee.
Ever since my English teacher, Mr. Black contacted her over my “underwhelming grade” on my last assignment; she has been relentless.
Bang. My spoon drops into the bowl with a clang and milk splatters onto the table. I let out an exasperated sigh and say “thank you, I so appreciate the reminder”.
“Well we can’t have a repeat of last time, can we?” she said. She then proceeded to ask what exactly the summative was going to be about.
In an equally strained voice, I replied “We have to compose an alternative narrative to the novel that we were engaging with”. For a moment I was excited to tell her about the holograms I planned to bring to life but then I quickly reminded myself to be annoyed with her.
It still sounded odd to her to hear a novel referred to as being engaged with rather than being read. She dared not speak this point out loud for fear of being reminded of her age and how things have changed. They have had this conversation before, Mel was well into her teenage years and going through a sarcastic phase.
Breaking the silence Mel stated “I can’t believe that you used to have to write. Like with a pen and paper. I mean how did you even do that?” Of course, Mel knew “how”, but that’s not literally what she meant.
Mel only had vague memories of having to write on paper. When she was very young she would use a stylus to write on a tablet and even now that felt so primitive.
Her mother let out a big sigh before responding “it really wasn’t that bad. it’s what we did, it’s what we knew, but I mean it did take forever sometimes to write down all your thoughts”.
Even she had to admit it was easier now.
She started to explain “There are ways of doing things and the teacher used to provide us with materials and guidance but there’s something that I kind of liked about writing. It was an art form especially cursive writing. Which I sort of miss now”. The moment quickly ended with an eye roll. Mel had a way of telling her she was old without telling her she was old.
She started to ask Mel “well, don’t you miss actually holding a book?”. She knew the answer before the words left her mouth. They did not agree on this.
Mel quickly replied, “It doesn’t matter what I prefer. It is what it is”.
Her mother thought “Well, she’s right, it’s what we do now”.
Mel’s mind began to wander and she thought about people writing in their books (the way she had seen her parents and grandparents do it) and to her, it just seemed so unnecessary, so pointless. It’s all going to end up in digital form anyway so what’s the point she thought.
In the same moment, her mother thought nostalgically about her writing in her journal, but she knows the type of composition that exists today doesn’t facilitate that type of writing anymore; it’s just seen as a novelty.
As if both returning to reality Mel stated matter of factly “Well I’m glad that I didn’t have to do that. I mean at least all the time. Cause the few times that I had to try to physically write anything down all I remember is my hand hurting and hating it”.
It was clear they did not agree on this although there was no point debating it and with that, they knew it was time to get Mel to school.
Moving towards the front door her mum said, “all right honey grab your books and get a move on”. Mel quickly reminded her they no longer use books, even a tablet was not quite right anymore, but at least more acceptable.
With this, she pocketed her device and they were off.
In the car, Mel quickly realized her error and thought “I probably shouldn’t have said those things to her” as now she is droning on endlessly about the books she had as a kid. She was going on and on about the way that she used to enjoy holding them and the way that books smelled. She launched into a long diatribe about the times she would go down to the beach and read for hours on end, never having to worry about the battery dying.
Mel was quick to point out that that was also no longer a problem. It was 2051 after all!
Not that it mattered, her mum barely acknowledged her and this story seemed more for her than me. She was merely a hostage on her way to prison. Literally.
They both pitied each other. Her mum reminded her often of “the lost art of reading and writing that she will never know” and Mel wonders if she knows just how really sad she sounds.
But Mel also knows the best way to respond to her mum when she starts doing something like this is to just say a couple of one-word answers until she’s done talking or they mercifully arrive at school.
Mel was thankful when they pulled up to the school and she got out of the car as quickly as she could. Their departure was marked with a little wave and a mumbled “thanks”.
Enthusiastically mum responds “I’ll see you after school and good luck on your test… I mean your assignment”. She was always using the wrong terms. Time to go before Mel reminds her yet again.
So with a small wave back, she was on her way too.
As she walked to class Mel thought about how aside from her device there’s nothing that students really take to school anymore. Her mum, talking about books, felt so removed from her reality. Now everything is done pretty much through what most people will simply call a device. Device narratives are now at a minimum designed to be interactive and use holograms. Even to remember back 5 years ago when holograms were not a key part of device narratives seems like ages ago. Her mother still struggles to make them work as they should. I mean it’s not really that hard, Mel thought.
Mr. Black goes on and on and on about how device narratives are ruining the purity of literature. He is mum’s age at least maybe even older. Mel thinks that they agree on too much. She thinks I don’t really care as long as I’m entertained.
Mr. Black greets me as I arrive at his classroom door. I’m the last to arrive and everyone is already seated with their device ready. He thanks me for gracing “us” with my presence and once seated he begins to explain the summative task.
Without a word, everyone’s devices simultaneously lock into summative mode. Mr. Black has taken control of the students’ devices. They all lie on the table before us. The room is silent. Our minds connect to our devices. I can see some of the students have their eyes closed and others have theirs open. We go into a trance-like state as we prepare to compose our summative composition.
My mind drifts again and I think in the old days I guess people would’ve used voice to text but it would’ve been so loud! It would never work to take the summative the way we are currently doing it now. But thanks to telepathic compositional technology we are able to just think and compose our thoughts. They are recorded on our devices. it’s taken a bit of practice to use it properly though. I remember when I first started using telepathic compositional technology the garbage that used to come out of my mind was shocking. It resembled the deranged ramblings of a lunatic. Unedited at best it was rambling nonsensitive. But now that I’ve had years of practice and the technology has improved I’ve actually gotten so much better at it. I am able to block out all the background thoughts and compose only those that I want to be manifested. Even now I am able to compose my summative composition while not having these thoughts recorded. I can choose what I share and what I keep private.
My composition is taking shape and the hologram is starting to form into the narrative I want to tell. I can’t help but think the voices and mannerisms of the characters are some of my best work so far. I’m hopeful this time there will be no phone calls home. But at the very least my hand doesn’t hurt.
On the drive home I started to think a little bit more about the past and how much I used to enjoy going to school. Writing and reading were part of my identity! Taking the time to carefully write down my words and plan my stories out on paper I really like the tactile way of creating my narratives. I can’t say that I’m a big fan of how we do things now but no one really asked me, haha.
I really liked that there was no risk that anyone could read my thoughts only the ones I chose to share on paper. Telepathic compositional technology has always made me nervous. Although it has been “proven” time and again that with the current guidelines and safeguarding, hacking our thoughts is highly unlikely I remain skeptical. I can almost see Mel’s eye roll as I think this. We do not agree. But she’s never seen it go wrong. I have.