As I look out my apartment window and see the early morning city, I can't help but fear the future. Usually, I am not so reserved about change but now that lifestyles are evolving more rapidly in a direction I loathe, I want to scream. Cars race down the street, only to hit red lights, where the driver must spend thirty seconds of his time before he can go again, but in an era where "fast and easy" is our motto, those thirty seconds last too long. I can imagine the driver rapping his fingers against his window, pulling out his Blackberry to check for that next business email, and then stuffing gum into his mouth to "calm his nerves." His impatience sickens me but I pity him, too. The man probably spends more time stuck in commuter traffic than he does with his own family on any given day. He works forty hours a week so he can provide his children with the newest electronics, most of which only zombify their brains.

Most children won't settle for a teddy bear or a simple doll anymore. If the toy doesn't walk and talk itself, very few children are willing to power the toy with their imaginations. Or perhaps it's not even that children are unwilling but that they hardly ever get the opportunity.After all, Mom and Dad are inclined to give them electronics because such gadgets overwhelm toy stores everywhere. Children only ten years younger than I are of the "battery included" generation. They're the same children whose parents are too busy to read to them. They're the same children who are too busy to read to themselves. Our libraries are empty and our bookstores are going bankrupt because every minute is spent with something mechanical, something battery operated, something we humans invented within the last one hundred and fifty years, as if any history prior to then is irrelevant.

Who writes letters when you can send an email? Your friend can't ever wait two days to hear what you have to say! Who chats face to face when you can IM? What does body language and real voice recognition count for anyway? Who eats a home cooked meal with their family when you can pop in a pre-made dinner and start forking fake potatoes and artificial cheese into your mouth forty-five seconds later? Preparing food from scratch takes too long when you have to drive little overscheduled Sally to her ballet lessons and her theatre rehearsal and her soccer game and her ceramics class! Who visits a National park when you can see photos of it online? Deer smell and bears are too dangerous! Why walk around your city on a Sunday afternoon — someone will only stab you! After all, the city blogs all remind you of how violent your city is; why question their statistics and journalism practices? Nearly no one bothers with ethical, print newspapers anymore because their articles are too long and boring and everything's too black and white and there's just no time, right?

Right, of course. The poet's world, my world, is catching flame and there aren't enough fire hoses or buckets of water to put out the fire. I just hope that this recession teaches America to stay informed, to truly read; to spend more quality time with their families instead of always pursuing great fortune at the office. To live more modest lifestyles, to honor nature, to be more careful and frugal with their money; to stop and just think once in a while instead of squeezing a meeting or an extracurricular activity into every last minute.

But I'm the first to admit that my dreams are too big and that Obama's no messiah — he is one powerful, capable, and intelligent man but he cannot single-handedly change everything. We, as Americans, need to change ourselves by examining our habits and philosophies. There should be more to life than greed and instead more focus upon self-enrichment.

Christine Stoddard is a writer and interdisciplinary artist from Arlington, VA who currently studies at VCU in Richmond, VA. Learn more about her and her work at www.christinestoddard.com