Note: the second in a series for Academics (or anyone else) Getting Out Dodge. On Friday I’ll talk about learning resources for those who wish to learn some superduper computer skills on the cheap. Today’s post is about getting into the right mindset, and little about the exciting field of Human-Computer Interaction. Yee-hah!
In the last installment, I was talking about the need to get beyond narrow ideas of academic specialization. The plain truth is that, even in non-academic life, everybody categorizes themselves and others all the time. We all have things that are easier or more difficult for us to learn and this can easily become a way to limit ourselves (and even turn into neurosexism–BOO!)
Conveniently, The Washington Times has just featured a spiffy column on why “left/right brain” thinking is bunk. Definitely worth a read, if only to stop people making cerebral-side excuses. Sure, it’s harder to learn some things, but take it from me, someone who skated on language abilities and ignored math for a very long time, it’s really worth exercising your whole brain on a regular basis. (Though I still refuse to think Sudoku is fun, on principle — it’s like filling out a schedule, people. It’s a job, and you pay someone to do it.)
Today’s subject is getting yourself in the right mindset to do some tech learnin’ if you’re not already one of those people for whom computers make total and instantaneous sense — and the good news is, this is exactly your strength. I’ve had many conversations with other teachers on this subject, and most agree that you’re a better teacher of subjects it was difficult for you to learn in the first place. So, even though you might want to kill your computer at certain points, this is actually a good thing in the long run.

Only YOU can prevent this future. (Also that actress is Patricia Neal, who was totally awesome in Hud. RIP, Patricia Neal.)
Personally, I don’t exactly enjoy programming, but it’s an interesting mental exercise. And making computers obey my will is an important step in my grand plan, which is currently getting a job at least vaguely related to — drumroll — Human-Computer Interaction. This is exactly what it sounds like, making computers and humans play nice together, and it requires people who are willing to straddle both sides of the fence. As do other related jobs: usability, which advises websites on how crazy they’re making their users; software instruction/training, where you teach normal people how to use abnormal technologies; or tech writing, where you translate secret computer language into human instructions.
And look, I am the first to admit that computer languages are crude if you’re used to the elegance of real human languages, but that’s not anyone’s fault. The fundamental problem: everything you tell a computer must be ultimately be translatable into binary, little tiny slots that can only be filled by a 0 or a 1. No middle ground on that, no mater how many “if” or “while” statements you write.
And I understand being suspicious of binary. I have not treated well by people’s weird attempts to “binary” their world. In fact, here is a gratuitous list of my least favorite false dichotomies — see, I used the word “dichotomies,” humanities people, just so you’d stay with me here:
Form/Content: It’s not just that form follows function, it’s that appearance affects meaning. People who think otherwise are deluding themselves. Cf. the smart/pretty paradox.
Serious/Funny: Studying humor for ten years, I can tell you that “funny” isn’t the opposite of serious. It’s possibly the opposite of “expected,” but even that is debatable. Someday I’ll write a brilliant treatise on this one, but until then you’ll have to take my word for it.
Introvert/Extrovert: At some points in teacher training I was forced to take those stupid personality tests and kept coming out an extrovert, probably because teaching sort of forces you to act like one. Sure, I’m totally comfortable talking in public, but trust me when I say I’m also serious introvert — or maybe just a misanthrope — counterbalanced with a whole lotta smartass. (And the same goes for all those ridiculous questions — why can’t I be both thinking and feeling? And why on earth do I have to choose between talking and listening? Um, hello, actual conversation involves both.)

True story: during said testing, my entire TA group got into an argument with the nice testing lady, with the ultimate result that our group leader insisted on doing an interpretive dance in order to "be a sine wave." And this was before we went to the bar.
And, most pertinent to our discussion, Humanities/Sciences: History (e.g.) requires just as much data analysis and attention to detail as science; science is just as creative as writing. ‘Nuff said.
But, as I noted above, people still have preferences. Hence the general problem that “intuitive” types (say, humanities people) and “reasoning” types (say, programmers) don’t quite grok how the other half thinks. The former does not like to commit to arguments, making them annoyingly fluffy. That latter thinks that a binary view of the world is natural or, less charitably, thinks that computers make the world the way it should be — no questions, no subtle social hints, just direct “yes” and “no” type situations.
(It’s no accident — and no joke — that many Silicon Valley types are at least borderline for Asberger’s. Though to be fair, I’ve had the same conversation with advisors in all academic fields, the one where the advisor frets about the future of their favorite socially awkward “genius” advisee. “But (s)he’s so bright!” they whine. “Why does it matter if (s)he can have normal conversation?” “Because it does,” I always answer.)
Now, I know how frustrating it is for average humans to deal with computers and (sometimes) computer people. But hardcore computer people are just as irritated by average humans and their enormous capacity for fuzziness — “might”,” could,” “should”, or my favorite,”might could.” It’s that subjunctive mood that you hated so much in Spanish, and computer communication just doesn’t have it. (Could be worse, some languages have two kinds of “maybe” mood. Even I find this a bit distasteful.) But still, one of the best uses of your intellectual training is helping people negotiate the gray areas of life. So if you have a wee bit of patience, which you probably do if you’ve taught, you might be able to help.
I’m going to presume that if you’ve taught/written a thesis or PhD/or gotten a humanities degree, you’ve got the “human” side of things down pretty well. The only remaining issue is the “tech” part. On Friday, I’ll have a more nitty-gritty post about where to find some resources on this. Till then, I prescribe social interaction classes for socially awkward “genuises” — from any discipline — and computer classes for eloquent but moony language types. Everybody gets to learn something.

Coincidentally, I have been reading Steven Pinker’s The Language Instinct. First time for me to learn about stuff beyond the clichees discussed in the linked article. That said, your project is worthy – press on!
Did you too take the Myers-Briggs? During my divorce in the early 2000, the ex’ lawyer made me take it in connection with spousal support. The test itself is fine, but the analyst was a hired bs-er. She said I can’t work in any other field than academia. Two months later I found a summer job in a law firm and liked it quite a bit.
I read Pinker’s book a while ago, and really enjoyed it. Though my linguistics friend tells me that there’s a big anti-universal-grammar movement on the West Coast now — crazy how reactionary people get on this stuff.
It was the M-B, and yes, it’s not the test I mind, it’s that it’s used to tell people what they should do, or for hiring. It’s another case where people desperately want a tool to determine competence, but a test is never going to do the job as well as a (competent) person.