Computers are a sometime-thing. Sometimes they work so well I am almost convinced that if I ask for it, that computer would sing for its supper as well. That is a sometimes thing. There are times when the computer sets out to accomplish a brand new record in dealing out total frustration. I for one was not born with a natural aptitude for patience. Patience is hard to come by for someone like me, especially when it’s the eleventh hour project that allows less than minutes for completion.

There are times when I attend the Icon meetings and find out that it wasn’t the computer but rather the person at the controls that caused the problem. I don’t feel better, knowing how simple the solution was and how inept I am for not thinking of that solution myself. Nor does it help when the solution comes from the masculine part of the user group.(That may be due to the fact that most of the members are male.)

I usually try to swallow my pride without choking on it and I look around the room. I know I’m not the only one short of computer knowledge. But I am female and being female doesn’t help when it comes to finding my face absorbed by a big chunk of humble pie.

It’s at times like that, when I look around the room and find something female, something soft and soothing and encouraging across the room, smiling at me. It is a knowing smile. I feel better, knowing that she is there. She is always there, not just for me but for countless others like me. Without speaking, she commiserates : Been there, done that. I feel less alone.

“How long have you been doing that?” I asked her once.

“Doing what?” she responds with a smile.

“Making me feel less stupid for all my ineptitude.”

It comes natural to her. I see her there sometimes at the entrance, sometimes behind the lap-top teaching and making learning a joy.

Sometimes she seems to float across the room with a smile on her face and arms extended ready to hug where a hug is needed. There is no doubt in my mind that she is the heart and the soul of Icon.

“Really, how long have you been doing this; This club, the help, the camaraderie, the friendship the sense of belonging that I get out of coming here.”

She is quiet for a moment. Her mind steps back in to the past I’m not familiar with.

“It probably started with the Commodore.”

My mind draws me a picture of a rough-speaking, uniformed person, barking out orders. She reads my puzzlement without making mention of it.

“That was the first computer we had.”

She tells me how she helped her husband getting the group together, making a common cause for people who needed to find support for that one more task, the one more challenge in life that required more intelligence, more determination more skill to turn apparent failure in to success.

I understood that very well. I’ve seen the club grow steadily. Each time there were a few more people. Each meeting she quietly makes the round to welcome people, to make them feel good about the things they know and about the things they’re going to learn. She may be small in stature but that heartfelt joy she spreads, the laughter, or just a smile warms the room, creates a magnet that draws the people to the meetings.

She teaches with patience and helps us overcome the sense of fear that prevails when it comes to that little matter of computing. I remember when she came to the house. That was the first time I was certain that I had killed my machine that I had purchased at what thought to be an extravagant price. I excused that clutter that I manage to create so well. She laughed and told me that made her feel at home. She settled down and started to do what I considered to be magic. Within minutes that computer was up and running. She wasn’t satisfied with that. The next thing that happened was very much like getting run over by a streetcar and finding yourself still alive. She pushed a button. All the lights went out. She smiled and said : “Ooops, I crashed it again.” I held my breath and silently consoled myself. If the thing was gone it was gone and $1200.00 dollars would be down the drain. But it would be alright. It would have to be alright. And of course, it was alright. Moments later, the computer was up and running and nonetheless for the wear. She taught me how to overcome my fears. I was a little less afraid. And somehow, everything she taught, she taught with love.

Each time I attend a meeting I see her there, standing there with a smile on her face; arms outstretched and ready to welcome one and all. I know that Icon offers much in the way of support for people who, like me, gingerly approach the unapproachable and then find out that, as the guru says, the computer is just tool. It’s the nut in front of it that probably makes it seem to malfunction. What the tower, the box, the computer, the cold metal lacks, is the warmth of the person female who knowingly not only tests the mettle of the machine, but also creates a positive connection between woman and machine. Thank you ICON for the friendship of the lady who, at least to my way of thinking is the heart and the soul of this computer user group.