Let’s Make a Geek
The Modern Geek Chronicles:
Breed(ing) Geek
As I was having steaks with a very good friend and her precious geekling a few days ago I got to thinking: How does one raise a geek?
On the surface, it seems like a simple question. After all, as geeks ourselves, we know how to care for ourselves and so, intuitively, we assume that the raising of a geek is just a matter of transferring the means and methods of our own biological requirements onto them. In other words:
Feed your geek. (Soylent Green on Tuesdays)
Water your geek. (Brawndo’s got electrolytes)
Provide an oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere at an optimal temperature of 25 C. (sunlight optional)
Follow these steps and your geekling will grow like the mighty oak! Right?
Hell no, actually.
Food, water and shelter do not a geek make. If it were that easy everyone would wear the proud moniker of “Geek.”
(Wouldn’t that be a wonderful world, though? The world of Geek. The world where computer coding has its own reality show. The world where 50,000 people show up to the yearly Geek Bowl—where geeks square off in that steel cage from Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome.
Two geeks enter, one geek compiles!
Two geeks enter, one geek compiles!
Two geeks enter, one geek compiles!
Or what about the Geek Olympics? Held every four years in the glorious world of Geek! A grand, exalted affair which includes such events as the illustrious 100-meter Segway race! The thrilling Binary Haiku Competition. And the dreaded World-of-Warcraft-Over-Dial-Up-Deathmatch!
Oh, it’s a wonderful place, Geek World! But I digress.)
So what does make a geek? How does one breed Geek?
A good friend told me the story of how, as a geekling of hardly four, his mother sat him down at a computer, gave him a shot of Jack Daniels and a bag of Cheetos and told him, in a Michael Jackson falsetto: “Don’t stop till you get enough!” (Disclaimer: I might be paraphrasing parts of that.)
Another friend once spoke of the time when, as a geekling, she and her father visited the Baltimore Aquarium as part of a school field trip. They spent the next three hours staring at a the whale exhibit for reason(s) unknown. “We separated from the rest of the group,” she said, “and just stood there staring at it and talking about it. It just called to me, like the monolith from 2001. A which point I had the urge to grab the nearest bone I could get my hands on and bash in the head of Susie Johnson—never did like her very much.” (Disclaimer: Again,I might be paraphrasing…err…making shit up.)
Both of these individuals are healthy, functioning members of Geek society now. One: a damned talented programmer. The other: a damned talented marine biologist…or wanted for questioning regarding certain “Assault With a Deadly Whalebone” charges. But that’s another story.
Either way, both of these cases are what I’d call Geek Success Stories.
The classic picture of the geekling’s life is that of loneliness and social awkwardness. In olden days, the geek was cast out from the village and forced to live in the wild, untamed world of self-education. The geek hunted and scavenged for knowledge, harvesting books , magazines and movies wherever they bloomed to gain those essential Geek vitamins and nutrients they so desperately needed. At night, the geek lay beneath the stars, counting nebulae to fall asleep.
While I still dig keeping tabs on nebulae unto the wee hours of the morning, as a modern geek I refuse to go in on the old “loneliness and social awkwardness” portion anymore. I’ve got parties to go to. And, yes, sometimes my parties are purely Geek affairs—very soon I hope the throw an “Unveiling Party” for the new computer I’m building; a computer which will be named “BRUT” or “Sovereign”—but others are rather “normal” events, full of friends, strangers, lovers, potential lovers, and on and on.
I’m a modern geek.
My friends are modern geek.
We’ve arrived.
But what about my friend and her geekling? He’s good at math, video games and is a burgeoning chess player, all the markings of a fine, fine geek.
My friend has a decision to make now: she can either encourage the Geek in her child, or leave it to fend for itself.
I’m what you would call a “first generation geek.” My father and mother had little affinity for geek motifs, but they never told me no when I asked to be dropped off at the library to geek out for three hours on Greek mythology. And when I needed comic books, my father quietly drove me the 30+ miles to the nearest comic book store.
(And, in case you’re wondering: yes, I live that damned far from Bartertown.)
So what I’m saying here is what you’ve already figured out: Geek has to be allowed. And, more than anything, it has to be allowed by our parents. It’s one thing to blindly praise your geekling for scoring high on their weekly math quiz, but it’s quite another to take them to the library and help them find books explaining the Fibonacci Numbers.
Guess which one tells your child it’s okay to be a geek? (In spite of what other may say to them.)
Raising a geek can be intimidating. They’ll be smarter than you one day—if they aren’t already—and it makes you feel a little smaller, makes it seem as if they don’t need you. But that’s not true. Your geekling will always need you, even when they have ascended to Geek maturity.
As a parent of a geekling, you don’t have to know all the information your geekling will want to know, but you do have to be willing to let them learn it. You have to let them know that there’s nothing wrong with trying to learn Java while their friends are playing basketball. Youth is a fragile time for a geekling.
It’s easier when they’re older.
When they’re older, your geekling will find Geek accomplices: the friends who will sit and watch Arnold Schwarzenegger’s entire body of work with them as they discuss White Hat vs Black Hat conflicts. The lovers who will debate custom computer builds post-coitus. The geek amigos who get their “11 cheers for binary!” jokes.
(You all know who you are.)
But, until then, be a part of your child’s growing Geek. Learn chess with them, even if they kick your ass. Play video games with them, even if they kick your ass. Learn math with them, even if they kick your ass. Read comics with them, even if they threaten not to program the TV remote for you because you said Beta Ray Bill could take down the Hulk.
They’ll remember you for it. Their Geek will remember you for it.
And, most importantly, you’ll get their Total Recall jokes.
End transmission.
More Modern Geek:
The Modern Geek’s Manifesto
1100 Tenets of Geek
She Geeked All Over Me
6 Responses to “Let’s Make a Geek”
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So, Frankenstein’s monster, a geek of the olden days–scrounging around that house, stealing books, educating himself?
Okay, so what separates geek from dilettante? I’m starting to get confused.
And what do I do…err…my friend, yeah, my friend do when she starts wanting to be a geek to impress a geek, but deep down inside, I…err…my friend knows she’ll never be a geek?
😉
The dilettante & the Geek are closely related. So closely related, I’d say, that the only defining difference would be the dilettante’s lack of community and the Geek’s (traditionally) tendency to focus on technical knowledge. There are lots of different interpretations of what a geek is. Those in the “Classic Geek” camp would argue that a geek MUST have a technical/mathematic focus. I tend to use the term in the wider sense, as I feel the word has evolved. That wider definition begins to closely resemble the dilettante.
As for the recipe of impressing a geek…that’s a difficult one. It’s no easy task. But don’t worry, the Modern Geek series will be tackling that exact topic in the near future!
Indeed, Justin! That’s a damned fine connection, my good man! In fact, I may have to tackle that in a future posting.
I choked laughing at the “Brawndo’s got electrolytes!”
This is brilliant. So are you.
So now I know exactly how to raise my geek. Now I know that I may not be the only parent who’s 8 year old makes her feel stupid on occasion. Whew! And, I thank you.