mark-prensky-smallOkay, I’m 57 years old.  If you go by Mark Prensky’s definition, that makes me a digital immigrant, a kind of “Johnny come lately” to the era of social media. Us older folk take pride in old fashioned things like a hard day’s work, chivalry and correct grammar.

I was raised on a good dose of “children should be seen and not heard” and “that’s none of your business.” Friendships are few but they’re quality.  For sure, they have a face (not a digital one either) and a voice, they’re close enough to spend quality time with but far away enough that they’re not nosey. If I follow anyone it’s because they’re a tour guide or they’ve earned my respect and have something intelligent to say.

I still pause that extra second before I click the “follow” button, like I’ve just elevated you to the status of someone really important in my life. And the notion that you know where I am and what I’m doing is borderline creepy.  Why should anyone know, much less care that I’m going into Chapters or having a coffee at Starbucks?   No, social media is stretching me. It is out of my comfort zone. I definitely wasn’t raised this way; don’t think this way and I need to be told repeatedly that this is good for me.

Two things are dragging me protesting into this new world.  One, we have eight kids that get along great.  They natter away all the time about all kinds of things they found out on Facebook or YouTube. I want in on the conversation… and maybe even find something cute or interesting to “share.”

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We’ve also got three grandchildren, so how can I resist a daily selection of video clips and pics.

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And secondly, we started our business Ice Decor.  People are forever telling me our ice sculptures are amazing and awesome and … “you really need to put this on Instagram and  Pinterest and Linkedin and Twitter and Facebook.” So here I am, a digital immigrant who wants in on the conversation and who wants to get the news out that we do some really neat ice carving.  

I’ve always believed in good ole fashioned word of mouth.  And they tell me this social media stuff is the new word of mouth.  But then why can’t I remember to tweet you that I’m on my way to the studio, what I’m carving and how I like it or feel about it about it, where I’m delivering it and take pictures about the everything along the way.

Even when I remember to take a picture, it’s so square and “old school”… says my son the digital photographer. This is going to take time and hard work… but, there’s some relief, I’m still good at that.