Part of my responsibilities as a grandmother and member of Generation X, I believe, is to make sure that my granddaughter from Generation Z knows of the values and principles closest to my heart. Which is why when my daughter asked me to be part of my granddaughter’s homeschool program, I gladly agreed. It would give me precious time with her, time which would soon run scarce and few as she approaches adolescence.

As part of our homeschool program, we’ve taken to watching movies from before her time. I call it the Pop Culture Class. We have, of course, watched the Matrix series because she must know the gloriousness that is Keanu. We also had a grand time laughing our hearts out gobbling up I Know What You Did Last Summer and I Still Know What You Did Last Summer. To make up for the B movie vibe of the Jennifer Hewitt starrer, I plugged her into Hook, the Robin Williams starrer that I do so love.

In the scene where Peter misses Jack’s baseball game, S noticed a gadget being operated by one of the spectators, and said loudly, “What is that?!”

She seemed genuinely surprised, and I was just plain incredulous.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my granddaughter doesn’t know that the gadget in question is a camcorder.

That’s when the obvious struck me; there are a whole lot of gadgets and things and technology which my granddaughter will never get to experience because they are now obsolete.

My granddaughter, for instance, would have no use for a typewriter.

I once had a manual typewriter that went clickity clack clack. It was my trusty companion through college essays and reflection papers, and later on, through news report submissions and magazine articles. I loved hearing my fingers strike the keys because it meant work was moving along. Until now, I have a very tactile relationship with my keyboard. Before I fell in love with my Mac, I would make laptop purchase decisions not because of the specs but because of how the keyboard felt on my fingers.

My granddaughter wouldn’t know how it feels to have to bang away at the keys, only to lose steam because the typewriter ribbon has faded. I remember receiving a note from a teacher, praising me for my thorough reflection but with a request to change the ribbon on my typewriter. She could hardly read the last few sentences. Mwahahahaha!

My granddaughter wouldn’t know how it is to measure words with caution; mistakes are easily deleted on laptops while errors on a typewriter make a mess. The neat freak in me disliked the obvious errors marked by the correction fluid.

My granddaughter doesn’t have need for an encyclopedia either. Google is there, and it has all the answers. Me, I’m a nerd. I loved our encyclopedia. I would randomly pick out a book from the set, and browse the pages which smelled of the ages. It was a set of what was true in this world, and I approached it with reverence.

My granddaughter wouldn’t know what the heck a cassette tape is either. She wouldn’t know how it’s like to be listening to a favorite song only to have it sound garbled because the player had “eaten” the tape. You then have to eject the cassette, free up the distorted tape from the player, and then carefully wind it with a pencil. My granddaughter wouldn’t know too how it is to cobble together a mixtape of songs off the radio. She wouldn’t know the patience it takes to wait for that one perfect song, and the skill it requires to press record at just the right moment so you don’t get the DJ’s meaningless meanderings as well.

Technology has made everything lightning quick, but there are lessons to be learned at doing things with the slowness of intention.

I foresee an extended play of this Pop Culture Class, most definitely.

Featured image by lilzidesigns on Unsplash