The Lost Art of Having Hobbies

I recently reconnected with a friend from high school over a cup of coffee. Our conversation meandered from our favorite songs and our dreams for the future to our academic goals and latest obsessions. When she asked me about my hobbies, however, I was caught off guard. I wracked my brain, but the only response I could muster was watching movies and TV shows.

There’s certainly nothing wrong with these pursuits. But I worry that staring at screens has supplanted genuine hobbies — especially among overscheduled Harvard students.

When I was younger, in the almost unfathomable time before screens were ubiquitous, I remember doing things like reading paper books, crocheting blankets, playing card games, and stargazing on picnic blankets with my mom. Every weekend, I would go ice skating with my elementary school buddies. I can still remember the way we would laugh as our skates wobbled and we’d fall into a clumsy heap on the ice. Or how I would sit at the dining table after dinner with my highlighter ready in hand, working on word search puzzles and crosswords. When people asked me about my hobbies, I had too many to choose from.

Now, I can hardly remember the last time I pulled on a pair of ice skates or touched a physical highlighter as opposed to the virtual one on my iPad.

A part of it comes from growing up and getting busier. With weekly problem sets and readings constantly on my plate, I certainly don’t have as much free time as I used to in elementary and middle school. However, even when I do have a spare moment, the first thing I do is grab my phone and scroll through Instagram. Which then leads to watching random Youtube videos on my laptop. Which then transitions to binge watching episode after episode of TV shows until the crack of dawn.

At the start of this summer, I was determined to pick up old hobbies and discover new interests. I decided to learn American Sign Language, get back into photography, start crocheting again, and read the books on my bookshelf.

Four months later, I’m ashamed to admit that I achieved none of these. What I did do was watch many movies and TV shows: “Suits,” “Oppenheimer,” “Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story”… the list goes on.

My friends and I often jokingly refer to ourselves as “screenagers,” but there’s more truth to that descriptor than I’m comfortable with. I’ve noticed that a bulk of my leisure comes from screens. Even when hanging out with friends on the weekend, we tend to put on a movie or sit side by side on our phones, sending each other memes. Looking around Cabot Library or walking through the dining hall, I see students glued to their laptops or seated with their heads bent over their phones, scrolling aimlessly through posts on Instagram or Sidechat.

I’m not alone. This decline in hobbies in favor of screens is common, especially in younger generations — and it has real harms. Research has shown that excessive screen time is linked to problems like depression, anxiety, and social isolation. It’s important that we take time to put down our devices not only for our fulfillment but also for our health.

There are plenty of opportunities on Harvard’s campus to leave the online world. Instead of just watching a movie over the weekend, go canoeing in the Charles River on a sunny day. Or take advantage of the Student Oasis under Memorial Church to have a cookout with friends. I recently learned that students have access to the ice skating rink at the Bright-Landry Hockey Center during general skate times.

This summer, while going through some of my old belongings, I found a half finished blanket I’d been working on in middle school. It was still attached to the crochet hook and the multicolored ball of yarn as though I’d put it down for a second, expecting to pick it back up and continue where I’d left off. In reality, I haven’t crocheted in years.

I thought back to the long summer nights when I was younger and would sit on the couch with my crochet hook in hand, the world blurring away as I made scarves and little stuffed animals. It gave me a simple kind of joy that I now miss in my life.

I packed the blanket with the crochet hook and ball of yarn in my suitcase to take back with me to school, determined that the next time I’m asked about my hobbies, I won’t struggle to come up with an answer.

Katherine H. Lee ’26, a Crimson Editorial editor, lives in Winthrop House.