Being unwilling to accept change has sometimes been an issue in many of our lives, specifically mine. Whether it be adapting to new teaching guidelines, buying different style clothing, eating more "heart-healthy" foods, or considering the value of a new school, we often find that accepting change is so intimidating that it is much easier to just dig in and continue doing what we always have done. Not a bad idea, I suppose, but certainly an indicator of stubbornness, and a sign that remaining in the past is far more comforting than embracing the future. Unfortunately, I am living proof that my own stubbornness clearly made me look like a fool. The culprit: technology.
Nearly 25 years ago while I was teaching at Strasburg High School, two respected teaching peers confronted me about attending a voluntary staff after-school workshop that was focusing on the transition from an electric typewriter to a computer. My reaction? "I'm not going to that thing--I'm comfortable enough with my typewriter." To shorten the story, they laughed at me and implied that my stance was ridiculous; not wanting to be made fun of, I surrendered and attended the workshop, thus beginning my transition into the technological world. I soon realized--and continue to understand today--that my real fear was my own incompetence: technology scared me!
From that uncomfortable beginning, I have grown, but I must admit to still fearing technology and its power. What always scared me when I was teaching high school was the fear that what I had been working on would suddenly disappear, regardless of whether I had saved it on a hard drive, an outdated floppy disk, or a flash drive. I can still hear the words of Jeff Eklund, Dover Schools' retired computer guru, who constantly reminded staff members that "disks will always break . . . save, save, save in different areas." As a result, I became paranoid that I would lose years of work by simply hitting the wrong button; even though I am more adept at working with computers today, that fear still lingers. With that being said, I suspect that I have captured the thoughts of many of my age group, but my point is that technology has changed so much of our world and of our approach, and I am living proof of that.
Three years ago I recall a conversation with my building principal who told me that I needed to start a Facebook page because it was becoming the modern form of communication--I laughed and quickly decided that I was not entering that world . . . too much controversy, too many problems, too much personal revealing. Again, my ignorance made me look like a fool. Ultimately, I investigated, discovered that my fears were somewhat irrational, and created a Facebook page. What I learned was that it served as a connector to many people: friends, relatives, former students, and high school and college peers. I recognized that I could control my content; I had been convinced that the page was a gateway to unsavory behavior, that the page would begin my deterioration into immorality, and that the page would allow my students to post anonymous criticisms and observations. Instead, I liked what it afforded me: I could keep in touch and hear comments of many people I knew because I was the one who allowed them to enter my world. If I didn't want them to be with me, I simply rejected them or never invited them in the first place. In short, for me, Facebook has been a welcome addition.
As further proof, I obviously am writing a blog these days. I have always enjoyed writing, but today's technology has encouraged me to expand my thinking, to share thoughts. Until the past year or so, I would not have done this publicly because I would not have been willing to take the risk of playing with the techie side; today, though, my comfort level has grown partially because of my improved ease with cell phones (another point of contention with me when they first hit the market) and because of a classroom technology class I enrolled in two summers ago. With every new advancement, I still find myself overwhelmed, but I have become willing to try to learn because if I don't I realize that the term "dinosaur" will soon be me . . . and I am unwilling to accept that description.
I still have friends who are unwilling to wade too far into using modern devices or programs--I understand that, but every time I hear one of them say "I'm not doing that," I hear my own voice from 25 years ago . . . it is so easy to stay in the past, but without my venturing into the present I would find myself leading a relatively dull and somewhat predictable life . . . and I am not willing to do that!
