Today is Ada Lovelace Day. Ada Lovelace Day aims to raise the profile of women in science,
technology, engineering and maths by encouraging people around the world
to talk about the women whose work they admire.
The inspiration for Ada Lovelace Day came from psychologist Penelope
Lockwood, who carried out a study which found that women need to see
female role models more than men need to see male role models.
“Outstanding women can function as inspirational examples of success,”
she said, “illustrating the kinds of achievements that are possible for
women around them. They demonstrate that it is possible to overcome
traditional gender barriers, indicating to other women that high levels
of success are indeed attainable.” [http://findingada.com/about]
Well, I've never been one for role models to be honest, and I'm not really looking to attain 'high levels of success', but I wanted to take this opportunity to write about someone who has inspired me, and who I know has inspired others. My mum.
My mum is a geek. A proper one. She takes stuff apart to find out how it works. She buys parts online and then builds computers and laptops from them. Then she sells some of them. She was the first person I know to get a Raspberry Pi. She gave me her iPad when she found she couldn't really "muck about with it". She was my 'go to guy' when I needed my creaky old laptop souped up a bit. She experiments. She tinkers. She learns by doing. She may have indulged in some dubious downloading practices in the past, but I think she's got past that now :) And over the past couple of years, she's helped friends and family buy, set up and maintain the right computer equipment for their needs. And help them get online and do stuff online.
This is a woman who struggled to send a text message a few years ago. I can't remember the exact circumstances, but at some point she got a computer. Initially it was for photos and video but I got her online, signed her up for an email account and bought her a 12 month subscription to Computer Active. But as much as I'd like to take responsibility for creating the nerd that she became*, I think it was when she took some classes at the local library, that she really got hooked. And once she'd found the techy forums, and eBay, she was off!
This has been a very good thing for all concerned. It's given my mum a hobby that keeps her out of the pub (only kidding mummy :)). It's increased her confidence. She's been able to find information online that has helped her deal with all the usual life stuff and generally just be more informed (eg my grandma's medical condition). And on a more practical level, she's benefited by taking advantage of all the money saving deals that can be had online. Although I think most of those savings have gone into buying more computer kit!
It's been great for the aforementioned friends and family who have been supported. And it's brilliant for me, obviously. I get less questions along the line of "how do I find out how much pension I'm entitled to?". I get the odd bit of 'surplus' kit. I get free IT support. Tech is something that she and my equally geeky t'other 'alf can talk about. And it makes buying Christmas and birthday presents much easier than it used to be (I got a case for her Raspberry Pi for her most recent birthday). I don't even mind that it's my inheritance she's spending on all those motherboards!
But it's also a 'Very Good Thing'. Digital participation is a key part of Scotland's Digital Future and we have some ambitious targets for getting people online. My mum is playing a key part in helping us achieve those targets. I spent yesterday talking about how libraries are contributing to to digital participation in Scotland (and I'll blog more about that at some point). One of the themes of the day was the admission that individual organisations or people can't achieve very much on their own. We need to work in partnerships and to leverage the network effect. Give one person the skills - and the confidence - to get online and hopefully they will pass those skills and confidence on. And so on. Basically, we need more of my mum.
So, thanks mum! Keep spreading the geek love. And don't worry (too much) about spending my inheritance!
* She has since admitted that she didn't find me a very good tutor. That's yet another other blog post!
Exceedingly civil servant. Palgolaki. Creativator. Quine. Faux Fifer. Currently seeking fiero and flow.
Tuesday, 16 October 2012
Wednesday, 11 July 2012
Losing patience with the refuseniks
Last week I was a bit melancholy. This week I'm a bit grumpy. Maybe it's the weather. Or p'raps I've just reached that difficult age. Whatever. Anyway, I'm afraid this post may be a bit of a rant. Sorry about that.
Right, here's the thing. I've been helping people use IT for almost 20 years now (yes, I am that old). I'm well aware that people have very different reasons/motivations for using (or choosing not to use) particular technologies. And that some will take a lot of convincing to get them to try something new. Change can be scary. That's OK though. I'm pretty good at what I do. I tailor my support to the individual and their circumstances. And I am very patient :)
However. I am starting to lose patience a bit with the straight up social media refuseniks. The ones that trot out the "oh no, I don't do social media" line (often preceeded by the "I'm a luddite, me" refrain). Really getting under my skin are those that seem proud of the fact. Wearing it as a badge of honour, almost.
So what's my beef? Well. For a start, that luddite arguement is a red herring. I'm not talking about very senior managers who have their PAs print out their emails (they are a whole other kettle of lightly-spiced fish with a tangy lemongrass dip). The people I'm grumpy with are those that happily send copious emails. And use office IT systems to claim expenses or record their working hours. And no doubt do their shopping and book their holidays online. Social media tools are hardly complicated technologies. There's not a huge ramp up in technical expertise required from sending an email to sending a tweet. So, lets not kid ourselves that it's about the technology.
Back in the day, when I was doing IT support in a DWP office, the typing pool had their electric typewriters replaced with PCs (yes, I really am that old). One of the typists decided as soon as she heard the news that she wanted nothing to do with these new fangled computermabobs and left. The others were nervous, but also curious. It took them a while - and lots of support - to get the hang of the PCs (the mice in particular were a constant source of frustration and we had some fun with the disk drives :)). But they all went on to do amazing things with their new toys. Now that was a significant technological change to get used to.
And here's another thing. I do not like the telephone. Never have. I find telephone calls really uncomfortable. If I can't chat to someone in person, I'd much rather use email. But I have friends who dislike email as much as I dislike the telephone. But they respect my communication preferences and email me occasionally and, likewise, I respect theirs and make the effort to call them now and again. At work, I use the telephone when it is appropriate to do so. And if the phone rings on my desk, I don't turn to my colleagues and say "ooo, I'm not answering that. I don't do the telephone". Although I may try it one day...just to see what the reaction is...
OK, so maybe the public at large doesn't expect us all to be available for immediate communication on the other end of a Twitter account. And of course, it took time for the telephone to reach mass adoption as a communication technology. So the comparison isn't completely fair. But the public's expectations for social media engagement with government are rising. And rapidly. We can't afford to hang around waiting for social media to eventually find its way into everyone's comfort zone.
I have my suspicions about where this particular attitude springs from. Euan Semple touches on it in a recent post. There are strong emotions involved. So, I'd like to say to these guys: hey, I understand that this is a new - and possibly scary - way of working. That's why we're developing policies and guidance and training. And why there are people who can support you. But please don't close your mind to social media completely. And don't tell me it's 'cos you're 'not good with technology'!
So, folks. Am I just being a grumpy old woman? Do I need to cut these guys some slack?
[Incidently, are those of us evangelising about this stuff actually making things worse by emphasising the disruptive nature of social media? Should we be saying, hey, this is just another way of talking to people?]
Right, here's the thing. I've been helping people use IT for almost 20 years now (yes, I am that old). I'm well aware that people have very different reasons/motivations for using (or choosing not to use) particular technologies. And that some will take a lot of convincing to get them to try something new. Change can be scary. That's OK though. I'm pretty good at what I do. I tailor my support to the individual and their circumstances. And I am very patient :)
However. I am starting to lose patience a bit with the straight up social media refuseniks. The ones that trot out the "oh no, I don't do social media" line (often preceeded by the "I'm a luddite, me" refrain). Really getting under my skin are those that seem proud of the fact. Wearing it as a badge of honour, almost.
So what's my beef? Well. For a start, that luddite arguement is a red herring. I'm not talking about very senior managers who have their PAs print out their emails (they are a whole other kettle of lightly-spiced fish with a tangy lemongrass dip). The people I'm grumpy with are those that happily send copious emails. And use office IT systems to claim expenses or record their working hours. And no doubt do their shopping and book their holidays online. Social media tools are hardly complicated technologies. There's not a huge ramp up in technical expertise required from sending an email to sending a tweet. So, lets not kid ourselves that it's about the technology.
Back in the day, when I was doing IT support in a DWP office, the typing pool had their electric typewriters replaced with PCs (yes, I really am that old). One of the typists decided as soon as she heard the news that she wanted nothing to do with these new fangled computermabobs and left. The others were nervous, but also curious. It took them a while - and lots of support - to get the hang of the PCs (the mice in particular were a constant source of frustration and we had some fun with the disk drives :)). But they all went on to do amazing things with their new toys. Now that was a significant technological change to get used to.
And here's another thing. I do not like the telephone. Never have. I find telephone calls really uncomfortable. If I can't chat to someone in person, I'd much rather use email. But I have friends who dislike email as much as I dislike the telephone. But they respect my communication preferences and email me occasionally and, likewise, I respect theirs and make the effort to call them now and again. At work, I use the telephone when it is appropriate to do so. And if the phone rings on my desk, I don't turn to my colleagues and say "ooo, I'm not answering that. I don't do the telephone". Although I may try it one day...just to see what the reaction is...
OK, so maybe the public at large doesn't expect us all to be available for immediate communication on the other end of a Twitter account. And of course, it took time for the telephone to reach mass adoption as a communication technology. So the comparison isn't completely fair. But the public's expectations for social media engagement with government are rising. And rapidly. We can't afford to hang around waiting for social media to eventually find its way into everyone's comfort zone.
I have my suspicions about where this particular attitude springs from. Euan Semple touches on it in a recent post. There are strong emotions involved. So, I'd like to say to these guys: hey, I understand that this is a new - and possibly scary - way of working. That's why we're developing policies and guidance and training. And why there are people who can support you. But please don't close your mind to social media completely. And don't tell me it's 'cos you're 'not good with technology'!
So, folks. Am I just being a grumpy old woman? Do I need to cut these guys some slack?
[Incidently, are those of us evangelising about this stuff actually making things worse by emphasising the disruptive nature of social media? Should we be saying, hey, this is just another way of talking to people?]
Labels:
civil service,
grumpy,
guidelines,
social media
Thursday, 28 June 2012
Farewall my summer love...(a letter to the Edinburgh Book Festival)
Dear ebf
Your letter arrived this morning. It remains unopened. I am trying to be strong and I fear that if I even glance at it I will crumble.
Yes, I'm afraid it's over. I won't be spending my summer holidays with you this year.
Hey, we've had six fantastic summers together. I have some great memories. I can still recall the thrill of being first in the queue for my first ever Iain Banks event (and then getting a seat in the front row!). And I still feel pretty smug at having pulled off the same feat several times since! And of hearing Neil Gaiman read from one of his books for the first time. And seeing Alasdair Gray (and awesome supporting cast) in full flight performing Fleck. I could go on.
But...
It's not you, it's me. Well OK, it's mostly me. But a little bit you. I've made a significant investment of time (and money) into our relationship over the years. Not that I regret any of it. But I've changed quite a bit over those six years. And you haven't. Not really. And maybe you shouldn't.
In those six years, I've seen the internet (and social media in particular) breaking down barriers and hierarchies. I've been introduced to unconferences and hacks and jams and the like. Truely interactive events. The result being that I just don't get very much out of the traditional book festival format anymore. I want to have a conversation. I'm just not willing to pay to sit passively and listen for an hour and then maybe get the opportunity to ask a question. However unrealistically, I expect a more frictionless interaction with my favourite authors these days. Fortunately, many are willing to interact with the likes of me on social media.
So, I guess I've just outgrown you. But the final straw? Well, you have to admit you had some significant personal hygiene issues last year. The lingering odour was getting to be a bit embarrassing. Not pleasant to be around at all.
There's no-one else in case you're wondering. I have no intention of flirting with the likes of Aye Write, or Word, or the Borders Book Festival. I am swearing off your kind entirely.
I do hope we can part on good terms. You are good - probably the best - at what you do. It's just that what you do, doesn't do it for me anymore.
I wish you all the best for the future.
Lesley
Yes, I'm afraid it's over. I won't be spending my summer holidays with you this year.
Hey, we've had six fantastic summers together. I have some great memories. I can still recall the thrill of being first in the queue for my first ever Iain Banks event (and then getting a seat in the front row!). And I still feel pretty smug at having pulled off the same feat several times since! And of hearing Neil Gaiman read from one of his books for the first time. And seeing Alasdair Gray (and awesome supporting cast) in full flight performing Fleck. I could go on.
But...
It's not you, it's me. Well OK, it's mostly me. But a little bit you. I've made a significant investment of time (and money) into our relationship over the years. Not that I regret any of it. But I've changed quite a bit over those six years. And you haven't. Not really. And maybe you shouldn't.
In those six years, I've seen the internet (and social media in particular) breaking down barriers and hierarchies. I've been introduced to unconferences and hacks and jams and the like. Truely interactive events. The result being that I just don't get very much out of the traditional book festival format anymore. I want to have a conversation. I'm just not willing to pay to sit passively and listen for an hour and then maybe get the opportunity to ask a question. However unrealistically, I expect a more frictionless interaction with my favourite authors these days. Fortunately, many are willing to interact with the likes of me on social media.
So, I guess I've just outgrown you. But the final straw? Well, you have to admit you had some significant personal hygiene issues last year. The lingering odour was getting to be a bit embarrassing. Not pleasant to be around at all.
There's no-one else in case you're wondering. I have no intention of flirting with the likes of Aye Write, or Word, or the Borders Book Festival. I am swearing off your kind entirely.
I do hope we can part on good terms. You are good - probably the best - at what you do. It's just that what you do, doesn't do it for me anymore.
I wish you all the best for the future.
Lesley
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