When parents f lip the tech
Technology within this day and age has had an immense impact on the way people live in New Zealand. As millennials the constant evolution of new technology has improved our lives for the better, allowing us to experience things like Netflix, electricity, memes and more. However, not all technological developments have had a positive outcome on our generation.
Two years ago, I only used Snapchat for the sole purpose of maintaining my streaks. By definition a streak is when two users snap (message) each other within 24 hours for more than three consecutive days. Snapchat streaks were and still are frequently used in the daily lives of adolescents.
From the moment I woke up to the moment I fell asleep, the only thing on my mind were streaks. However, streaks are an important commitment to uphold and required hours of time to keep alive. Once a streak was lost you would feel devastated after losing it because, of all the time and effort you devoted to creating them.
Streaks were proof of your friendship with someone. Where you may say you talk to someone every day, a streak is physical evidence of your connection to that person.
Streaks could also be seen by some as a challenge, to see how far you could take your streak with someone before the chain of communication broke. Eventually, this led me to convince my dad to install Snapchat and thus create a streak.
My dad didn’t want Snapchat. It was to be expected that someone of the previous generation would have zero interest in some aspects of modern technology. My father had been reluctant of the entire idea of having a streak and saw no point in obtaining it. Which, in hindsight, was true. Streaks, put simply, were like being in an unhealthy relationship. You spend all your time talking to this one person, but over time only saw them as a nuisance and the source to your own insanity. Regardless, streaks were something everyone you knew had and thus were obliged to do the same.
After thorough persuasion and a hefty bribery of Griffin’s Superwine biscuits, I’d finally got through to my dad and convinced him to install the app. I gave him a basic run through of how to message friends, search usernames, find Snapchat lenses, view snaps, watch stories and, of course, create a streak. Two weeks later and no new streak was formed.
My father had struggled to understand the basic use of Snapchat, from the way you activate the Snapchat filters to the way you replay messages. My dad was completely and utterly lost.
It also didn’t help that he was an adult with a full-time job instead of a carefree teenager with more concern about their streaks than their concern for math. I would take uncountable moments out of my day to clarify and explain the simple aspects of Snapchat to my father.
I saw my role as that of an exhausted adult, countlessly repeating simple instructions over and over to a naive child. My words went in one ear and out the other – but a person’s patience can only go on for so long. Two months had passed, and I finally gave up on the idea of forming any streak with my dad and concluded that the task was impossible.
One year later, I had brought an end to my Snapchat account as well as my oh so sacred streaks. The meaningless chain of communication I spent months acquiring with friends and family, slowly became a bore that manifested into a ruthless addiction. To my surprise, it was also around this time my father became an expert on the use of Snapchat.
Before I erased the app, I saw my dad’s Snapchat story where he would record his fart noises, take photos of cows on the farm and create tributes to artists of the past. I had no words. I could only place my hand on my forehead and shake it in pure embarrassment.
As my father’s use of Snapchat began to increase, so did his knowledge of New Zealand icons. My dad knew Kiwi icons such as Johnny Danger and William Wairua who went viral through serval media platforms, which in this case was Snapchat. My friends at school effortlessly recognised these names through Snapchat, whereas I was left to discover them through my dad.
This became the start of my father’s newfound obsession and the end of my adolescence. When I thought my dad’s use of Snapchat couldn’t get any more cringey, he surpassed all my expectations through his attempted imitations of William Wairua albeit when I took a visit to the fridge or laid lethargically on the sofa.
My dad used every opportunity to look and sound like William Wairua; squinting both eyes, mystically waving three fingers in the air, saying the also unforgettable catchphrase ‘‘There he is.’’ This put me off any and all catchphrases said by the Kiwi icon.
My dad thought he was cool and my dad thought he was a teenager. I was an actual teenager but had lost all interest in the app.
And here lay an ironic image of both of us using technology. My father, a 42-yearold
farmer, born near a time when cell phones let alone apps like Snapchat were non-existent, had adapted. Now he was fairly up-to-date with the current icons in New Zealand and used all features of Snapchat easily. In contrast, his 16-yearold daughter, despite her age, now used Snapchat as frequently as most people her father’s age.
In conclusion, technology within this day and age has had an immense impact on the way people live in New Zealand. However, not all technological developments have had a positive outcome on our generation. Snapchat has changed my father. He was once a simple man with good values and a good life but, unfortunately, he was caught in the crossfire of my selfish desires.
As punishment for my mistake I could only observe my father transform from a hearty farmer to an annoying teenager. Every time I saw him attempt to take a selfie or hear the words ‘‘medium rarhur’’ as he cooked his steak, I would sit down, take a deep breath and contemplate my life before the tragedy and of ‘‘a life that didn’t closely resemble hell.’’