Computing through the ages

I’m so bad at working with people with limited computer skills. It’s not that I’m a bigshot techie now, but I have to think really hard to remember what it was like when I didn’t know one side of a monitor from the other.

When I was in school, we got an Amstrad word processor at home. I could process words on it (in a very basic “words in, print out” sort of way) and play all of two games – Blogger and, ooh, some sort of Space Invaders thingy. During my four years in college I submitted one typed essay – and even that wasn’t required. By that stage - 1994, say - I was watching my friends at the teeny Apple Macs on the third floor of the library and vaguely wishing I had a clue what they were doing. Then I did a post-grad diploma in business and took an elective module on MIS. I didn’t learn a lot, but it was my introduction to things like Word, Excel, what a database was, and the good old interweb. And using e-mail for the first time, which was a fabulous novelty for chatting to my best friend on the computer beside me – and quite useful since I was now on a different campus from my boyfriend.

My first job after graduating involved working with another of those teeny Apples and occasionally a PC. We didn’t have an internet connection in the office – I actually read a book at lunchtime or went for a walk. So quaint. At some stage at home we’d finally dumped the Amstrad and inherited an un-teeny Mac, so I had taught myself to type on that - against the advice of my well-meaning uncle who said I should never learn to type because then I’d just be a secretary. Well, guess what, I have been a secretary, and I was damn glad to have the typing skills to get the job. Also, it’s much handier than typing with two fingers.

Anyway, eventually I got my Real Job in the online training company. Where we had real computers and the internet and a network and programmers and a tech support staff and all sorts of things I hadn’t a clue about. They were so nice to me, and so patient, when I asked things like “What’s a file? Is this a file? How can I tell?” and I learned what I needed for the job and picked other things up along the way. I discovered that I’m fairly intuitive about computers and I can generally find my way around a program given a little time and practice. And after 5 years working with greater and lesser spotted techies, I can talk the talk pretty well.

But now I look at my mother, or my boss, and it’s really hard for me to remember what it was like when I didn’t have a mental picture of how this document was in this folder that I could retrieve at any point. Or when my fingers didn’t automatically stretch to Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V to take something from one place and put it somewhere else. Or what a program is and how I can open it and use it and then close it or minimize it. I’m not talking high-level Java applet programing here, just day-to-day use of a filesystem and the basic trappings of the evil Microsoft empire. And then I get impatient and frustrated with whoever it is that asked me for help, because the words that are coming out of my mouth are meaningless to them and I can’t just lend them my brain for a few minutes to help clarify things.

Which is why I'm not a teacher, I suppose. Small mercies.