As the first generation to fully grow up in a world of cellphones and doomscrolling, it’s impossible to imagine life any other way. Between the hours spent doing school work on our laptops, to obsessively checking our pockets for our phones, the high school experience of our parents could not seem more foreign. What do you mean you applied to colleges on paper?
Yet, as we must begin learning how to separate ourselves from the emotional support devices we all cling to, I thought it would be fitting to look back at an era where staring at the ceiling at the end of class was the norm.
The year is 1983, and Wilson has just gotten computers for the first time. An article written by David Bernard describes the news this way:
“As a part of a D.C. Public School plan to orient students with computers and make them computer-literate, Wilson received 10 Commodore-64 computers. All D.C. public schools with a ninth grade received a Commodore Lab comparable to the one at Wilson. It consists of 10 computers, each with their own Commodore color video monitor. They are all hooked up with each other via a Mupet controller. Wilson also received a double disk drive and cassette recorder for storing programs, a 120-column printer, a 1200-baud connect modem, customized tables for each computer, and various other items such as printer paper, blank disks, etc.”
Besides not knowing what a Mupet controller is … or a color video monitor or blank disks … the idea of a computer literacy class is beyond me. As someone who can type at 100 words per minute (yes, I paused to take a MonkeyType test just to check) the concept of being taught how to use a device, (let alone having a teacher who can type faster than me!) is sort of unfathomable. And look at the computers! Never again will I complain about the weight of my school laptop.
Since I now live a life devoid of Spotify, I’ve had a lot of time to think about how to get through the next few months. I decided it would be beneficial to look for solutions from those who survived the bedlam that is Jackson-Reed without the assistance of constant connection! Under a pile of dusty Beacons, I found the perfect solution: a Sony Walkman. Published in 1982, David Messersmith wrote about its popularity.
“What is the biggest craze since the hula-hoop? It’s the Sony Walkman. More than 11 million Walkmans were sold in 1981 alone.
Why is the Walkman so popular? ‘I think it is the combination of its size and its great sound,’ comments Robert Donovan, a local retail salesman. He added, ‘Most people I talk to think the Walkman sounds better than their home stereo. You can take it and play it anywhere, and it costs much less than a stereo.’
…
‘The Walkman is a great thing to have. You can take it to school, on vacation, or anywhere. It fits in your pocket. Now I can listen to great sounding music without going home.’
Whether the Walkman will outlast the hula-hoop is a question to be answered later. It has already sold 2 ½ million systems in 1982. Only time will tell.”
Sorry, Walkman, but unfortunately I think the hula-hoop outlived you. Still, you might be having your comeback. We current teenagers, unlike the ones in 1982, are not used to existing in a world without constant music. We’re desperate enough for any technological connection that this might just be the solution we’ve all been searching for, especially if admin starts confiscating Bluetooth-less iPods just for kicks.
Reading articles from 40 years ago and wincing at how archaic things seem makes me wonder what the next generation will think of us back in 2025. Will they be reading these articles in 2065 and laugh at us missing our phones? Will they have to Google what an Airpod or Bluetooth is? Will Google still be a verb?