Screen Time

As told to Rivka Streicher

“Ephraim,” my wife called.

I looked up from my laptop, startled into reality. “I’m working,” I muttered. I could hear my son clamoring for a bedtime story. Rena gave me a pointed look, and shook her head. I met her eyes for a brief moment and sighed. Then I turned back to the screen.

I grew up in an “American-style” home. Sure, we were frum, but it was relaxed, a little more liberal. There was a large TV screen taking center stage in the living room, and from a young age I followed it all, news, sports, and movies on cozy winter nights.

As I grew older, though, I found myself veering to the right. I did well in yeshivah, and then left home for beis medrash, part of a chevreh of other serious guys. We worked on our avodah, our learning, and our tefillah, and along with that growth came a firm resolve to keep the media of my youth at bay. It wasn’t who I was anymore.

But sometimes I felt like I was carrying baggage, a world-weariness from all the cynicism and sensationalism I’d absorbed on screen, but I knew that all I could do was look ahead. And I did.