The Computer Man by Sara Wright

When he left, I couldn’t believe it was over. All my anxiety and fear, all my apologies for being so ‘stupid’ about computers, all the negative experiences with tech people had been turned upside down.

Thirty years of internalized shame sloughed off skin after skin. I was finally free of patronizing tech abuse for the first time in my life. And Stan had just picked up a new client! If I had any problem in the future all I had to do was to contact him. Oh, such relief! That his prices were so reasonable was another welcome aspect of this first exchange.

 I stared at the new Macbook Air on my desk that was working efficiently. All data had been transferred effortlessly along with a massive number of pictures that I require for research and for the articles I write. Stan walked me through the miniscule changes, left me with his number and told me “Sara you have such a great spirit; it was a pleasure to work with you”, not to flatter, but because our exchange had been so honest, respectful, and positive. I was still in shock. My first experience with a professional tech expert that was neither patronizing or disrespectful was just too hard to absorb at once. Words of brutal condescending patriarchal tech abuse by family and others flooded my awareness and then evaporated like smoke.

Help at last. Help without abuse. I was still reeling. No belittling, no insults no patronizing or ‘know it all’ tactics. No snide remarks designed to diminish my relationship to a machine that uses language that my brain cannot understand. Instead, honesty, integrity, compassion and understanding.

 “We are all good at something – you may not be good with computers, but I cannot frame a good sentence”. Equality. Decency. Laughter too. When I mentioned that I had eventually developed a relationship with my old Mac over the years that often surprised me (my Mac sometimes inserted words or a phrase I had not even written to help me clarify what I was trying to say) Stan he told me others also had these attachments.

 I am neurodivergent; I think differently than most people and have a handicap. I am severely dyslexic with numbers and directions; still reversing entire phrases when I write. Hopeless in the world of numbers. That despite this condition I became a writer, university professor and Jungian analyst is nothing short of a miracle and a testament to the power of the human spirit to persevere.

In high school I failed every math course; couldn’t find my way to my locker, all year long – every miserable day for six years. Reversing directions, confusing left with right, I couldn’t find my way home unless I was walking, wrote numbers backwards, and couldn’t read maps. I was terrified of driving and never got my license until divorce was imminent (Over the years I have gotten into so many fender benders that at 78 even without eye problems I fear driving anywhere at all).

Virtually no one noticed or cared unless they saw an opportunity to manipulate or use my vulnerability to harm me.

Additionally, I suffer from an acute anxiety disorder finally having been diagnosed after being unable to complete an undergraduate degree because statistics was beyond my ability to comprehend. By then the shame of what I couldn’t do was a monster that swooped down with talons to stun me into stupidity. Naturally I blamed myself.

When I was a young adult, I had breakdown after breakdown forcing me to leave jobs. Some underworld force controlled me. At mid -life after a dual diagnoses I started taking medication that never solved the problem but allows me to function effectively in academic and most social situations. During an active phase of PTSD a pounding heart, instant memory loss, a brain freeze and a shrill buzz in my head makes it impossible for me to understand words or directions even when they are being offered kindly. I continue to experience myself as drowning in a sea of chaos.

Learning to use a computer was a hurdle I was afraid I could never jump. But miraculously I did with the help of Goddard College faculty who understood something about my predicament. Thanks to them I was able to accrue post graduate degrees.

Sadly, trying to figure out how to use any machine alone still throws me into the active phase of PTSD. My ongoing experiences with people have been even worse. Always patronizing, sometimes cruel, I am often regarded as being stupid. At first I didn’t realize that I had been socialized into a cultural field that included machine abuse… not good enough, crazy, stupid – I believed all their lies for so long. Abuse of all kinds has been normalized in our culture.

But even after I recognized the problem, I couldn’t understand why approaching any machine still terrorized me. After all, machines were useful tools, like the computer that turned me into a prolific writer, the heat pump I recently installed while buying into community solar to reduce my dependence on fossil fuels and use of wood. I feel like I am ‘hardwired’ into a destructive pattern that has tried it’s best to annihilate me. The mind of the machine lives on internally.

It wasn’t until it became obvious that western culture was collapsing under the force of the power of the machine mind that illumination struck. I knew that I possessed a kind of ‘second sight’ that read the future and my irrational fear of machines which began in early childhood was not just personal due to my handicap and the horrific life experiences that followed me but was grounded in a Collective Horror. Machine Minds have stupefied humankind separating us completely from an Earth we and every other species are totally dependent on for survival. Despite Collective Denial humans will not escape the abuse humans have brought down upon this Beneficent Being. We are dying too – from polluted air, water, fire, and poisoned soil.

 Now that I understand that the ‘mind of the machine’ is behind my fear on both a personal and collective level it helps me to name my demon and understand why this force still holds so much power.  Internally and externally

 Patriarchy in my mind is a destructive system where all the power is held by a few wealthy men. Most women and men are negatively impacted by this monster…

 When my very old Mac began to do strange things indicating that it was in breakdown mode the familiar monster, panic, struck. I could feel/sense my old friend slipping away. I was going to be forced to purchase another computer that required a two-hour drive to reach the store which I knew would be impossible. After speaking to a few salespeople by phone I was finally told about Stan. If this man agreed, I could buy the machine, have it sent to him to set up and then he would drive to my home to deliver the computer and finish the job.

To my profound relief Stan agreed and yesterday’s meeting was a success story so beyond my imagining that I am still trying to absorb the implications. I am FREE at last from being abused because I have found someone who is capable of caring about people RESPECTFULLY and works with them, not over them.

 Before he left Stan told me that I would find working on my new computer a breeze, and he was right.

The Computer Man is a person that literally changed my life in one day.

Thank you, Stan.