My grandfather loved computers.
He was a farmer by trade, but his free time was dedicated to learning as much as he could about technology. He attended MIT for short time, he worked a stint at a cyclotron, he used spare parts to build of string of primitive computers which he named Fred, and had he lived to see the 21st century he no doubt would have loved taking apart cellphones to see how they work.
My grandmother, on the other hand, would have been more than content to live out her days with nothing more advanced than her 1950s-era typewriter.
I remember the first time my family and I tried to Skype with her, we ended up instead spending an hour and a half on the phone, guiding her through the process of logging on.
So imagine my surprise when I opened my computer a few months back and saw that I had an email from the technophobic herself. Granted it was a forwarded message that somehow contained all of the forwarding information and none of the actual content, but nevertheless I couldn’t believe it. My grandmother had an email address.
From there the barrage of middle school era chain-letters began. A constant stream of adorable puppies, religious quotes, humorous videos and motivational stories about war heroes and good Samaritans filled my inbox.
But then something inconceivable happened. A turn of events so shocking and unprecedented that I thought for sure I was in some sort of fever dream.There, in my Facebook notifications, it clearly said “Elaine K has tagged you in a photo.”
I was astounded. I immediately called my mom who confirmed that it was indeed my grandmother, and not some distant cousin with a similar name (which is very possible in a Greek family.)
It turned out she had received an iPad for her birthday (in what universe does my grandmother have an iPad and I don’t?), and she was taking a class to learn how to use it, part of which was to create a Facebook.
Her profile picture was one that she had clearly taken herself using the timer function – which was apparent by the fact that she wasn’t actually looking at the camera – and incidentally I was not actually in the photo that she tagged me in, but none of that mattered. Against all odds, my grandmother had successfully made the transition to the 21st century.
Since then she has become an active member of the online community. She likes things, shares things, and comments on posts. She even commented on an article that I wrote about beer saying, “I hope you tried one (or more) on your BIG DAY.” Yes. My grandmother, a product of mid-20th century America, with the all values and morals of a highly religious immigrant family, told me, via Facebook, to enjoy a few beers.
Times are changing and she’s changing with them. And it’s thrilling to sit back and watch that happen. But aside from that, this whole situation made me see my grandmother in a brand new light.
She decided that, despite all of her misgivings, she wouldn’t let the world pass her by. She went out, found a class and chose to continue learning, even when she could have easily stayed at home and read books all day (which quite frankly is probably what I would have done in her shoes.)
And despite my initial fear that she would disapprove of the occasional Facebook photo of me holding beer and hanging out with boys (I’m not a rebel by any stretch of the imagination, but I am a typical 21-year-old), she showed me a totally new side of herself. A side that makes me wonder what I could accomplish if I set aside my fears and tried something new.
And I know this may seem like an over-reaction. I mean it is just a Facebook, right?
But it’s more than that. It’s what her Facebook represents. We live in a world where people in their 80s are just as active and social as people in their 20s. Where we have the ability to continue learning new things right up until the moment we die, if we choose to just make that step.
So I plan to do exactly that. And I hope that when I’m 80 I can impress my grandchildren with my commitment to learning, the way my grandmother impressed me.
