“Attention without feeling, I began to learn, is only a report.”
—Mary Oliver, Upstream
Molded by an uncommon affection and care for the life of a human being, Alan Kay's A Personal Computer for Children of All Ages elevates the individual as an actor and author in a shared world.
From poetry interfaces that inspire a curiosity to gaze upon sweet astonishments in a park, to filters that tune the voyage of a lifetime along the rising tides of information, to the rediscovery of the coordinate system in simulated space games.
In our present world, mediated by enchantingly veiled technologies, Kay's personal computer still endures in its purpose as a cherishing medium. This wondrous means calls upon the richness of our humanity to channel new fluencies in intent, choice, and consideration, ushering in authorial abundance.
One that aims to honor each person's unique unfolding of the good life, and modestly, of our collective dreaming.
“We feel that a child is a ‘verb’ rather than a ‘noun’, an actor rather than an object; he is not a scaled-up pigeon or rat; he is trying to acquire a model of his surrounding environment in order to deal with it; his theories are ‘practical’ notions of how to get from idea A to idea B rather than ‘consistent’ branches of formal logic, etc.”
—Alan Kay, A Personal Computer for Children of All Ages
A product can be an encomium—to a dear person, and to the beauties and travails of life. It is a relationship laden with a loving discovery made between the maker, an intended beneficiary, and the world.
The kernel of questioning, and being I have done about the personal computer are lived ones with my nephew, and with our years of conversation, hilarities, and adventure.
As a 10 year old now, he's a spirited potion of joy, confusions, and kindness.
In my hope for his future and more laughter, there has never been a better time to make something beautiful for him.
