I've
never seen another Explorer in the wild. It's been near isolation in my
tech-napped
world for the past five weeks, sans Google hangouts with my
inspiration for investing in Glass.
Then,
I met Aaron*, a fellow second generation Explorer and programmer. Just days
before Christmas, amidst the throngs of holiday guests to the happiest place on
Earth, I stood at the checkout counter of a store along the main street in
California Adventure. The cast member registering my purchase took an eager interest
in Glass, so I began my friendly, routine explanation. Out of the corner of my
eye, I could see a figure lingering nearby, not even eight feet away from me. As
I glanced sideways, I caught the startling image of a face with Glass.
The
sight shouldn't surprise me, yet, since this was my first public encounter with
another Explorer, I was unprepared for meeting my kin. In a way, my initial
mild shock is probably similar to what the general public upon meeting
"one of us". Note to self, smile even more and look even more
approachable to assuage that shock.
He
grinned and slowly approached me, and we exchanged pleasantries and names. At
this point, with two of us bearing the same unfamiliar gadgets on our faces,
the curiosity of the people around us became insatiable, and the flood of
questions began. Typical, expected. However, he was well-versed in his
response. He whipped out his phone and opened his screencast so fast that I
simply deferred to his explanation.
While
his words were amicable and demonstrated patience, he certainly moved and spoke
with, might I say, aloofness, with a general lack of eye contact and an over
confidence in his knowledge of Glass. I can't say for sure that it was true
aloofness, but at the time, I couldn't put my finger on the meaning of his
demeanor. He brusquely pointed out that should show my screencast as well, but,
in my mind, our holding up the entire line to demonstrate Glass felt a little
selfish and, with attention spans waning, perhaps unnecessary.
His
explanation was rehearsed yet approachable, and when one of the cast members
asked if we received a lot of questions about Glass, he replied with,
"Yes." That tinge of exasperation in his voice was so subtle, so
brief, that I'm sure I'm the only one who caught it (intuition of people's
feeling courtesy of my counseling background). Then, as quickly as he appeared, he wrapped up
his three line explanation and left the store at a quick pace.
I
didn't know what to make of this encounter. In all, everyone we talked to
walked away with positive awe about Glass, which is one of our primary goals as
technology ambassadors. However, something felt odd: the way he kept distance
from people; the forced, albeit friendly, recitation of how Glass works; the tinge
of exasperation; even the lack of eye contact; the quick departure. These all spoke
of someone who has been jaded by the Glass experience.
I
messaged my Glass friend about meeting another Explorer "in the wild"
and gave a brief synopsis of the experience, ending with my dismay at Aaron's
apparent aloofness. My friend messaged back,
"Yeah,
I could see that happening. A lot of Explorers would probably fall on the
introverted side of the spectrum."
I
sensed validity to this assertion, as several of my technology-oriented friends,
many of whom are self-proclaimed or are otherwise labeled as a
"geek", tend to exhibit the very traits I saw in Aaron: socially
awkward, intensely occupied with technology, unconsciously didactic, friendly
but skittish. Of course, individual experiences tend to bias in a particular
direction, and with pop culture directing the masses toward believing geeks to
be introverted, technology-oriented, and often socially awkward. Just look at
The Big Bang Theory's characterization of geeks, and you'll see my point. Even
American author Julie Smith described a geek as "a bright young man turned inward, poorly socialized,
who felt so little kinship with his own planet that he routinely traveled to
the ones invented by his favorite authors, who thought of that secret, dreamy
place his computer took him to as cyberspace."
Don't
get me wrong; most geeks are amazing people who tend to cluster around a specific
set of personality traits, including introversion, and I am not saying there is
anything wrong with introversion. Even I tend toward introversion the Myers
Briggs Personality Profile. However, this classic geek trait does carry certain
ramifications in the introduction of Glass by an almost exclusively
technology-oriented population, such as programmers and developers. The original
premise of the Explorer program was to invite individuals to test, for a price,
Glass before it reached the general public, meaning that it has fallen upon
those introverted individuals to interface with the public about Glass.
I
have a feeling that a lot of people, while curious and excited by the new
technology, see it as a geek gadget for that exclusive population of
programmers and developers. Nearly every person I have spoken with while
wearing Glass has asked if I work for or am somehow affiliated with Google. The
next question is always an assumption formed as a question about my being a
programmer. People do not yet see this product as a gadget for the general
population, which I think is being perpetuated by the fact that the lovable but
not exactly extroverted population of Explorers happen to be technology savants
who can demonstrate the product well but leave doubt in the minds of the public
they interface with if this product can be useful anyone.
With
third generation Explorer invites being submitted as I speak, I hope the Glass population
waters down to include more "average" people, such as myself, not
because I don't appreciate the tech-geeks responsible for initially introducing
Glass, but because the public needs to feel like they are an extension of this
project, too, capable of becoming, in their own right, a self-proclaimed
tech-geek.
*Name has been changed.
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