Igy, INNOVATION ABSTRACTS #83"

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a rr Published by the National Institute for Staff and Organizational Development

oN With support from the W/. K. Kellogg Foundation

 

 

 

 

CONFESSIONS OF A TECHNOLOGICALLY DISABLED PERSON

As much as it pains me to admit il, | am a technologically disabled person. Most new high technology,
hard or soft, engenders in me seeds of phobic paranoia. Tt has always been so, and my constant prayer has
been fora government-tunded project for the technologically disabled to correct the limitations of my early edu-
cation.

Born in the deep, rural South my early encounters with technology were quite limited. My first experience
was not with a gas stove; my mother cooked on a wood stove heated by the wood | chopped, and it was not dif-
hicull to figure oul how that system worked. My first experience was not with electricity; we first had that when
| was twelve. The kerosene lamps we used held litthe mystery for me. Neither was my first experience with
television watching, “Hlowdy-Doody Time.“ | saw my first television on an F.F.A. trip to the Florida State Fair in
Tampa when | was seventeen. My first experience was not with the marveis of indoor plumbing; | understood
everything | wanted to know about the outside facility we used. Everyone had a two-holer, and you could sit
with your brother in that cordial environment all morning plumbing the really important mysteries of life. Our
advanced technology has taken us to a one-holer, where we contemplate life alone--| wonder, sometimes, if the
move from a two-holer to a one-holer is an indication of the dehumanizing effects that can accompany advances
in technology?

My first experience was not with these advanced technologies; we really were in the deep, rural South.
My first experience came, as most exciting experiences come in the South, on a Saturday night. For on Saturday
night when I was seven vears old, we walked across Polliwog Creek to my Grandfather's house to listen to the
Grand Ole Opry on my Grandtather’s pride and joy--a Philco battery-operated radio. 1 was never allowed to
touch it and was not really sure | wanted to. IL was an awesome thing to me, and | could not figure out how
they got Grandpa Jones, Minnie Peas, and Ernest Tubb in that big brown box. | could hear Ernest Tubb stretch-
ing cach syllable lower and lower when he sang “I'm Walking the Floor Over You.” And | remember my
Grandmother talking to him: “Drag it oul, Ernest; drag it out “ The radio was a mystery too great tor a seven-
year-old to fathom, even one with a rich imagination.

| think my grandtather was awed by the mystery of the technology also, because whenever a battery wore
out he never threw it away. In fact, a mounting pile of crumbling batteries grew in the corner of the smoke-
house, and | remember lying on the smokehouse floor one long summer afternoon poking at the batteries with a
stick to see if PT could prod Ernest into one more “I'm Walking the Floor Over You.”

That was forty years ago, but am not sure that | have changed very much. I still have limited knowledge,
and if | were to confess the absolute truth, fairly limited interest in technology. I stil! drive the 1964 Volkswagen
buy | bought brand new. I still use the same stereo | purchased twenty years ago as a graduate student. Only
one speaker works, bul | hear everything | need to hear. | have made one concession, however, and that is to
use the microwave in our kitchen; but so far LE have only used it to melt butter. A Cuisinart sits menacingly on
the shelf in the pantry, but | have failed to succumb to its arrogant pressure. Tam, obviously, a technologically
disabled person living, as an anachronisny ina time when evervone clse is becoming technologically literate.

Pdlo Know what iy problem is With the media and my frends constantly bombarding me with informa-
Hon about the lechnolovy, Phave had to be introspective, and | can recognize three hurdles.

Kirst, | do not understand how any of these new technologies work. The steam engine | understand.
There were diagrams of the steam engine in my eighth grade science book, and the kettle on my stove provided
a clear example of the basic principle. But no one ever explained electronics to me. There were no diagrams ot
satellites and computers in my eighth grade science book.

 

& # Program in Community College Education, The University of Texas at Austin, EDB 348, Austin, Texas 78712