Every December, I like to pause and ask: what will really serve people in the coming year? Not what is trending, not what is optimized for views, but what might actually bring us together, or at the very least, back to ourselves.
Scrolling social media no longer has the luster it used to for me. The screen fatigue is at chemical levels. It is overstimulating and simultaneously meaningless, and depletes my dopamine levels for the day within the first hour or two. So much of what I see online is AI-generated slop, crafted for shock value just to affix eyeballs.
I have been feeling the effects on the home front. My husband works in television, and recently his company started insisting everyone use AI in their productions. It has become the new industry mantra: be more efficient, use the tools. But when creative decisions are automated, the heartbeat behind them fades.
Maybe that is why today, more and more people are deciding to pull away from their screens. Studies show that time on social media peaked in 2022 and has been falling ever since. People are looking for textured experiences again, something that exists in three-dimensional space, perhaps something made or played by hand that connects us to other humans.
NBC ran a story last month about a young woman named Remington Davenport, who founded the NYC Backgammon Club after realizing there was nowhere inviting to play. Since 2023, she has hosted hundreds of events for people in their twenties and thirties. These clubs are thriving because they offer what we are all missing: the sound of human voices, shared focus, a sense of belonging that no algorithm can replicate.
That spirit is what I will cultivate at Solebury House of Movement and Art. In 2025 we drew portraits, did some hand-sewing, crafted Día de los Muertos sugar skulls, built paper-mâché holiday decor, and designed fashion collections for imaginary families. We watched students find focus and joy through simple materials—watercolor, yarn, felt, clay, tin foil, slime, ink, pen & paper. In 2026 we are turning toward the tactile. We are crocheting granny squares from soft yarn. We are building wands for the new year from wood, feathers, gems, and wire in a workshop that blends creativity with reflection. We will be sewing our own tablecloths our of thrifted fabrics and block printing them to decorate our homes. No automation. No optimization. Just the tantilizing hum of the energy that goes into making something out of real materials. We are choosing the slower, more human way, the way back to meaning.