My dad had a stroke a couple of years back and, while he has recovered well, he still struggles with some motor and speaking functions. At first it was particularly hard for him to regain a sense of independence and autonomy. One of my brothers realized that this was actually the perfect time to transition my dad into the world of computers and to teach him how to pay bills online and send e-mail. Although he could type with only one hand, we figured that learning and using basic computer skills could help him compensate for some some of his physical struggles.
In order to make all of this happen, my brother re-purposed an old iMac (of the lamp stand variety), took it to my father’s house, and hooked it up to the Internet. He then spent several visits going over the basics of clicking icons, logging in, and maneuvering through Yahoo! Bill Pay and e-mail. He laid out dad’s desktop to make it as easy as possible to take care of his business and communication needs.
After the original visit, my brother returned for more training, and once he thought dad was ready he began letting my father pay bills online while the two of them walked through it on the phone. At that point, my brother figured dad was ready and took up a new role of stand-by support desk should my father have problems.
As you can imagine, there were some hilarious experiences early on (like double-paying large bills and “losing” the delete button). But my brother, saint that he is, would talk to dad on the phone, get him reoriented, and help him solve these problems.
Now, I will say that my father has had a tremendous advantage in all of this. Unlike most people who encounter unfamiliar technology and struggle to use it, dad has an ironclad excuse when things don’t work out. He simply says, “I could have done this easily before the stroke.”
This experience has caused me to reassess many of my ideas about accessibility and ease-of-use in software and teaching. And, in one of those great life coincidences, I was thinking about all of this while flying home last week when I saw an interesting article in the airline magazine. It was an article about Masamitsu Sakurai, Ricoh’s president, CEO, and COO, and he was taking about his company’s approach to technology. The core of their philosophy, he said, is found in the Japanese word oyakudachi — “walking in the customer’s shoes.” Sakurai expounded on what oyakudachi means for Ricoh by stating, “It is important that people control tools and machines and not be controlled by them. Technology should first and foremost be accessible and useful to many people, regardless of their natural aptitude for it.”
“Technology should first and foremost be accessible and useful to many people.” It sounds really simple, doesn’t it? Make things so that they will be as useful as possible to as many people as possible.
It is a goal. It could even be a mantra. It is also our greatest obstacle with regards to the success of integrating technology into the education paradigm.
Too often we assume that making technology available will create a transformation. We believe that because a concept is transformative everyone will adopt it. The truth is that neither assumption is true.
If technology is not entirely accessible — meaning if it does not fit naturally into the user’s current mode of thinking and physical performance — it will have trouble integrating fully into social or professional practice. Word processing was easy because people were already typing. The process and product jumps were natural and only mildly incremental.
But what about other technologies in education? Will all teachers start blogging or podcasting? Will the $100 computer revolutionize worldwide education and close the digital divide? Can gaming become a viable part of the traditional curriculum?
These questions can all be answered by applying the test of accessibility — of oyakudachi. Are the technologies and the software solutions we propose designed and thought out as if someone had walked in the customer’s shoes? Have we built them to be a natural fit and to make sense to the person using them?
Perhaps, rather than become so enamored with the revolution of Web 2.0, we should ask whether the solutions we dream of will be as accessible as possible to the greatest number of people possible, regardless of their aptitude for them.
Broadcast Information
Loading ...
0 Responses to “Lone Star Learning — oyakudachi”