This date marked my appearance in the world, in Minsk, Belarus Soviet Socialist Republic (BSSR) to be exact. The country I was born in will cease to exist in about 4 years, leaving its people in the state of chaos, hunger, economic default, with radio, black-and-white television, and my grandmother's sewing machine as the only technology we owned.
On that day, I entered the first grade. Ahead, were years of handwriting, hand calculations, deep readings of Russian classic literature, and no sign of digital media ever disrupting this utopian educational world.
9th Grade. This year I got my first computer and cell phone, still in the times of dial-up internet and extremely slow download speeds. Al I ever mated to do it, though, was to print a few papers and conduct a few Google searches. Neither video games nor programing interested me.
On this date, my immigration to the United States marked my immigration into the digital world.
As I entered college, I realized that my so comfortable practice of handwriting has to end. I would spend 2-3 hours a day using typing software, and still it will take me 8 hours to type a 2-page paper.
From then on, I type almost everything. It saves me time, space, and paper. And yet, wouldn't know how to create anything beyond a double-spaced, 12 fond Time New Roman word document with 1 inch margin all around.
That day I go my first smart phone. It was given to me as a present and I rested it with all my being. Quickly, it became a part of me, a part I sometimes wish I left at home.
Around my Junior year, I began to realize that my hand writing is deteriorating. I can't take notes as neatly as I used to on paper, and yet, I haven't learned how to take them digitally yet.
From the time I decided to pursue academic career, technology--digital archives, databases, and on-line-journals, have provided me with tools and skills to work on projects that otherwise would not have been possible.
At some point, I began to take quick notes on my phone in order to remember things later. If I was on a train or walking down the street and an interesting idea popped into my mind, I would take out my phone, open notepad application, and write it down.
In few recent years, my email explodes before I even get out of bed. Sometimes, I even answer them before I get out of bed. I would love to allow myself the luxury of not answering emails immediately, but I feel that digital technology created a culture of instant gratification, where a delayed response is often seen as a sign of disrespect.
And yes, I did join Facebook, and I have mixed feeling about it. On one hand, it allows me to reconnect with people I grew up with and keep up with the news, but on the other hand, it reveals to me the exhibitionistic and voyaristic inclinations of our culture, where lines between private and public are not only blurred but almost destroyed, where 1st Amendment is misinterpreted and abuse, and where laws of stalking and trespassing are irrelevant.
As much technology allows us to engage with the world, I can't shake the feeling of living behind the screen. While Wysocki argues that new media allows to engage a wider range of sense, I can't help but feel like it impedes mine. I can look, but not touch or smell; I can observe, but not always participate, I can see my distant family, and yet I can't hug them. I text instead of talking, like people's voices don't matter anymore. I look at the screen of my computer, like my cat looks outside the window, wondering "what is it actually like, out there?"
So yes, I am a digital immigrant, living on the outskirts of assimilation, understanding the customs of digital culture on the surface but remaining reluctant to fully engage.
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