I was away last week. I missed all the fun stuff! Like Josh & Jamie buying Stuff.co.nz and then winning Assignment and selling Fairfax and buying DDB. Or something like that.
I got back to far too many emails, but one missive in particular prompted this piece. It contained the assertion (from someone heavily involved) that the social media folk about town are at risk, without robust debate, of becoming an “irrelevant little clique”. Furthermore, a friend of mine is a self-confessed social media hypocrite. He bombs along to all the social media events but at the same time privately confides that he thinks everyone’s just repeating the same things over and over and sort of selling ice to Esquimaux.
Now as I’ve never been along to any of these functions I’m not going to comment on that, and such an assertion is not the point here. Stay with me, because we’re going on a little journey. For if it’s true (that’s an if there, an if, folks), I have a challenge for you clued-up social media types, because you have the goods and the smarts for this one.
Y’see, last week was adaptive snowsports week down south. If you aren’t familiar with adaptive snowsports, you can read the Otago Daily Times article here, witness what a good dose of airtime on a monoski looks like (at 2.35), or hit the adaptive website here.
I was prepared for the monoskiers to put me to shame – I’ve seen monoskiers before and they ski better, faster, and with more flair than I can ever hope to on two planks. But I was stoked to see the one-legged skiers, a visually impaired snowboarder who’s also a swimming champ, and more, lots more talent.
Less obvious on the slopes are those with communication difficulties. A couple of blokes had speech difficulties, with talking either difficult or impossible. One deaf guy was without anyone who could sign, meaning a ski lesson was out of the question, and communication for him was likewise tricky.
It struck a few of us just how rustic the communication methods are, particularly in the age of the iPad. The deaf guy gets around by using a series of small notepads and a pen to write down what he wants to say. (That’s fine in the pub at the end of the day but not so practical with ski gloves on, or when driving!) A few of the others have unwieldy machines they carry around to type out messages, which the reader can see on an LCD display. Check it – these machines are upwards of $10K. Not joking.
We noticed a couple of problems with these machines. Firstly, the expense, although it’s to be assumed it’s covered by ACC initially. Secondly, they don’t do anything much other than help the user communicate a single message (and I’m talking a message shorter than a tweet). Thirdly, they mark the user out as obviously disabled, which can often incite speakers to assume the disability is mental, not physical, and treat them accordingly.
At one point we started using someone’s iPhone in the pub to tap out messages, and our deaf friend asked what it was – he’d never seen one before and wasn’t confident using it. One of the guys using the message machines said he’s keen on an iPad and thinks it’s darn cheap, in comparison.
So what’s the challenge here? You’ve got a bunch of people who could hugely benefit from having an iPad and some tutoring on how to use it. It’s got to be a fairly lonely world dealing with communication difficulties, from something as simple as ordering a flat white to telling a funny story or having a relationship with someone. The iPad could not only work as a communication tool (and one that others will soon become familiar with) but also as a way to connect with other people.
So the challenge is twofold: One, for social media experts to perhaps fundraise for iPads for those with communication difficulties – because you can imagine ACC won’t be handing them out like lollipops – and to help users find their way around them and around social media so they can connect with others.
Two, for Air New Zealand to also come to the party and sponsor those with communication difficulties at next year’s festival. After all, it’s already spoken up in support of deaf issues. (If it could also fix the spelling mistake on the back of the apricot and yoghurt muesli bar it hands out on board, MC Grammar would be eternally thankful. Mint.)