Notes from a Digital Immigrant

Here’s a little secret about me. I’ve been using computers for more than 20 years now. I’ll admit again and again that I am hooked, addicted, can’t imagine my life without one, etc. None-the-less… as much as I like to believe I can use one as well as… well, the next computer geek… I am really beginning to see where my children are going to overtake me.

Take games, for instance. I’m intrigued by them. I like to… be challenged by them. Yet, many of them (I’m lumping complex video and computer games together here) frustrate the #e!! out of me. No matter how many times I watch my children leap computer generated heroes across open divides or race through puzzles or mazes, I am always surprised by how extraordinarily complex the actions seem to be when I attempt them myself.

Many of these games (from TombRaider to Zelda the Windwalker) appeal to the parts of me that perhaps still dream of a life of adventure and exploration. So why do I get so turned around with my virtual directions? I can read a map in real life, but I often can’t follow a compass in a video game. I get disoriented so easily. I find myself looking in the same nooks and crannies over and over again, not realizing that I’ve already been there time and time again.

The hardest part of my (fairly recent) foray into the world of animated characters and computer games is accepting that I need assistance. I’ve always been a do-it-myself kind of person. I typically hate to rely on someone else’s instructions or I listen to just enough instruction to get the idea and then improve by doing it myself.

My son is six. He hasn’t mastered every game, but he’s amazingly adept and improving daily. Oddly enough, one of his favorite activities is watching ME and instructing me through playing the games.

“Let’s play Zelda,” he’ll say to me. Then he’ll hand me the controller and start giving me directions. For quite some time now, this has been a struggle for us. We have a few games where we can actually play together, each of us controlling a different character in a video game and working toward the same goal. I should be ashamed to admit how many times this activity ends with us arguing with one another, each of us trying to tell the other what to do and neither of us succeeding. I don’t mean to be uncooperative and incapable of playing this way. It always sounds like a good idea. In many ways, I simply lack the skills and, as my frustration builds, my manners fall away.

The other day, I tried a new tactic. As much as I want to conquer one of these video games on my own, I’ve never gone as far as my children and it takes me twice as much time for every level I’ve completed. When my son asked me to play with him, I decided I was going to sit back and allow myself to be tutored as he saw fit.

I didn’t attempt to explore or make any moves on my own; I simply ran the controller and followed his instructions to the letter. Whenever I got frustrated with his guidance—perhaps I didn’t understand the direction he was trying to send me in or didn’t know which buttons I was supposed to be pushing to get the desired effect—I simply stopped the game and waited until he could explain it thoroughly, sometimes taking the controller from my hands and physically showing me what he was trying to explain.

In 45 minutes of play, I made it further than I have ever gone in that particular video game. I didn’t fall off walls. I didn’t attempt impossible leaps only to be defeated time and time again. I simply went “this way” and “that way” as instructed. I maintained my calm. I completed a task, and I actually felt satisfaction and accomplishment rather than frustration.

I doubt I’ll ever entirely master this aspect of computing and electronics entertainment, but I have no doubts that my children will. There are still some things they can learn from me, but I can tell we are coming upon the years where I will be learning from them just as rapidly.

If you are interested, here’s a non-fiction book I recently read that I highly recommend to anyone with children. It’s called, Don’t Bother me Mom—I’m Learning, by Marc Prensky. This book is definitely full of good food for thought. I’m not going to bother you with a review. If you have kids or have any interest in raising kids in this age of advancing technology, read the book.

The title of this entry, by the way, comes from Prensky’s thesis; kids today are digital natives while adults are immigrants to the digital world—some of us will pick up skills along the way and learn to get along fairly well while others will forever struggle with this “new” and advancing language.