In 2026, everywhere I go, peoples eyes glued to their phones. Phones have become a way to entering a world that is void of phsyciallity of the moment. However, I don’t believe the phones socially isolate in the way many scholars argue, because the phone allows for the world to be at your fingertips. Globalization of the self occurs through the use of phones. There is this inherit inter connectedness that occurs when you realize that you are apart of the 100k likes on a TikTok, or you are one of the hundreds of comments on your friends instagram post.

I do understand why phones may pose a complicated risk to us as humans. It is because of our possessive nature we often operate from. We assume these phones are this permanent tool that will help us with anything. We give it our personal information and watch videos that make us laugh or cry. These are things that a physical human friend would do for another human, no? But we feel this secrecy with our phones. It is ours, it is not yours. While the general understanding is factual through- buying the phone is the legal binding for you to own this phone, BUT the phone doesn’t own you.

In Buddhism, there is this concept called No-Self. Buddha teaches that nothing is permanent, including ourselves. One day, we will drop this body and our “I” will be no longer. This applies to all our possessions not just the “I” we create. Our phone will die, we will lose all that is dear to us. This sounds crazy pessimistic but it actually is extremely freeing. It enables us to remember that the present is truly a gift. One day, everything will cease in our personal realities. That doesn’t mean life wont continue once our bodies have dropped through, the production and advancement of phones will continue on for centuries after everyone reading this has dropped their bodies. But, this invites us to be mindful with our objects.

The phone is a key to another world. It’s where you can meet new friends, see things you would never see without it, however only if we give it the agency to do that.

I feel this branches outside of phones. We are addicted to this notion of “me” and “I” and it is so intertwined in our socialization patterns we know nothing different. I believe the development of the self is a key as well to be able to navigate the world around you. However, this doesn’t make it static and fixed. The self is ever evolving and becoming and dying and rebirthing. How lucky are we! We get to be whatever we want!

So I invite the readers to do this!

1. Notice your own attachments to the things you feel are “yours” and not keys. For example, a car. You can use it as a key, to make your life easier by getting you from Point A to Point B without extreme suffering! It helps you remember how to be grateful and present.

2. Notice the attachments you hold about how you “should” be. Let go of the static sense of self and allow yourself to remember your dynamicness and awesomeness. It is truly freeing

3. HAVE FUN. Remember that because everything is impermanent, every moment counts. Take that nap, drink that coffee, text that friend. Have fun.

BYE

In accordance with federal regulations (45 CFR 46.102(l)(1)), The Belonging Archive is classified as Scholarly and Journalistic Activity.

• Focus: This project collects and uses information about specific individuals (oral histories, biographies, and architectural narratives).

• Intent: The goal is to document and preserve unique historical records, not to develop or contribute to generalizable scientific knowledge about a broad population.

• Compliance: While exempt from formal IRB oversight as an independent project, it adheres to the ethical spirit of the Belmont Report (Respect for Persons, Beneficence, and Justice).

2. Informed Consent Protocol (IRB-Standard)

I utilize a “Consent for Participation and Public Disclosure” process. Before any data collection:

• Disclosure: Participants are informed of the researcher’s identity, the project’s purpose, and the public nature of the Substack.

• Voluntariness: Participation is 100% voluntary. Participants may refuse to answer any question or end the session at any time.

• Revocation: Participants retain the right to request the removal of their specific interview from the archive at any point prior to publication.

3. Risk Mitigation & Privacy (Minimal Risk)

This project is categorized as Minimal Risk, meaning the probability of harm is no greater than that encountered in daily life.

• Identifying Information: By default, names and affiliations are used (as per oral history standards). However, participants may request pseudonymity or “off-the-record” status for specific sensitive anecdotes.

• Sensitive Content: I avoid solicitations involving illegal acts, medical history, or other “vulnerable population” triggers as defined by IRB categories.

4. Data Security (IRB-Grade Protection)

• Encryption: All raw recordings and transcripts are stored on AES 256-bit encrypted drives.

• Access Control: No third party has access to the raw, unedited data.

• Destruction/Archiving: Following the completion of a series, raw audio is either archived in a secure digital vault or destroyed, depending on the participant’s signed preference.

[Photo by: Leon Frye (ME :) ]

I remember waking up to the sound of the crowded courtyard in 明珠花园 (the name of the apartment complex where I lived) every morning. Children were often screaming loudly, running around free at seven a.m, waiting for their 婆婆 (grandma) to take them to school. Concurrently, many single working adults would be going off to work, operating on a different tempo and rhythm than these children. Despite these differences, all of these individuals shared the space and coexisted. I understood this apartment complex to operate as an intergenerational rhythm, full of individual lived experiences that shaped how the space was interacted with.

This apartment complex’s courtyard was sectioned off into rectangles, each with its own set of workout equipment. I would wash my clothes on my balcony and look out to see older Chinese aunties stretching, walking around their rectangular sections, and chatting with their friends. The middle-aged individuals often would leave the apartment complex to play sports elsewhere or to go for a long walk around the surrounding neighborhood. The younger kids would play outside till they fell asleep, and the sky was dark, often needing their parents to drag them in. In the summer, the children were especially loud and active at night, which diminished as the school year rolled around. I began to question what this information means for placemaking (Schneekloth & Shibley, 1995). What did this courtyard mean to the residents? Would that be reflected in the actions and behaviors of these residents? What made this courtyard attractive to these people from different backgrounds? How did their individual day-to-day lived experiences affect the attractiveness of that space?

This courtyard also functioned as an informal social network. This is where you run into your neighbor, whom you haven’t seen in a few weeks, or meet a stranger who you think is cool. The socialization outcomes were infinite in this courtyard. The physical presence, also known as proxemics, created this forced collision space for these individuals to get to know one another (Hall, 1966). I recall many times being asked questions by the loud little kids in the courtyard, or being asked, “Where did you get that food from? It smells amazing.” These micro interactions build a social network we may not value on the surface. However, understanding this built social network explains how spaces that may not have been designed for social use, become social network hubs. The original architect could have just enjoyed the idea of a courtyard and thought it was aesthetically pleasing. Sociality here was adaptive, a spontaneous byproduct of human interaction with the architectural layout.

[Photo by: Leon Frye (Me)]

The concept of belonging was also buzzing in my brain, and I wondered, who “belongs” in this apartment complex and courtyard? As an international student staying at a homestay, I had no control over which family I would be placed with. This random insertion into their already established social network served as a gift because my “in” was being a temporary visitor. I wasn’t finding this apartment complex from word of mouth or a website, but I “fell” into the apartment complex. I observed daily who stayed in this courtyard, who left, and who lingered just for a bit. How would I be able to get in and be “initiated” into this system? I began by using the workout machines during peak hours. This is when most kids would surround the 外国人（foreigner) and ask me tons of questions of my “belonging”. Where was I from? How did I learn Chinese? What am I doing in China? All these questions started to contribute to the main idea: in order to exist in this courtyard, I needed to be something or someone. To refuse their questions was to reject a social invitation and to answer was to begin the work of becoming a neighbor. The need for identity formation that these children and I were practicing was a form of performative belonging (Butler, 1990; Bell, 1999). I needed to become understandable or relatable to these children in order for them to trust me as a valuable asset to their social courtyard network.

The next layer of social belonging within this courtyard was linguistic use. Observing the dynamics of language socialization, I realized that linguistic competency was the primary “gate” to these localized Chinese ecosystems (Schieffelin & Ochs, 1986). I would hear stories and warnings to not go to Beijing or Shanghai if I wanted to learn “real” Chinese. Beijing and Shanghai have high levels of international English speaking populations. For a Chinese language learner, going to an international hub was deemed “lower in return value” rather than a small, non English-speaking population space like Guilin. In these courtyards, being able to speak Mandarin was a major asset in connecting with the Chinese courtyard crowds. The next step was learning 桂林话（Guilin Dialect), which was mainly spoken by the older, born pre-Cultural Revolution adults/elders. It was seen as a sign of respect to use their chosen and more familiar dialect to connect with them. The elders would often ask me, “Do you speak Guilinhua? Do you speak any other dialects (besides Mandarin Chinese)?” However, the younger children often were not taught their villages dialect or, Guilinhua, so their competency was in Mandarin. The elders' biases often softened once a foreigner demonstrated linguistic competency. The mere effort of learning became a proxy for respect and good intent. It was a signal that it is safe to invite this individual into their courtyard dynamic.

I began to piece together all these complex concepts into a general idea of social belonging in public spaces and the social networks it built. Through language use, designated social collision spaces, and a sense of communal belonging, I became a member of this community. I remember the day I really felt intertwined with 明珠花园(the apartment complex). I was in the elevator with a young girl and her mother, whom I would talk to in the courtyard often. They addressed me by my Chinese name, 雅阁，and we exchanged basic small talk. No more “Where are you from?” questions, I finally belonged. But all the pieces had to fall into place, while keeping my place as the 外国人 (foreigner) I was.

[Photo by: Leon Frye (ME)]

Methodology Note:

• Primary Methodology: Participant Observation via the “Workout Machine Initiation” strategy.

• Key Variable - Linguistic Competency: Analyzing the hierarchy of Mandarin (Social Utility) vs. Guilinhua (Cultural Respect) as gates to community trust.

• Key Variable - Performative Belonging: Documenting the transition from “Identity Formation” (answering questions) to “Normalization” (the elevator interaction).

• Reflexivity: Recognizing the researcher’s role as a “forced entrant” via the homestay system and the subsequent labor required to convert “temporary visitor” status into “valuable social asset.”

Hall, E. T. (1966). The Hidden Dimension. Anchor Books. Jacobs, J. (1961). The Death and Life of Great American Cities. Random House. Schieffelin, B. B., & Ochs, E. (1986). Language Socialization Across Cultures. Cambridge University Press.