Allow me to share a little background about my childhood life. It may seem inconsequential, but later in my life, it plays a huge part in my belief that my family was actually a group of government assigned agents tasked with raising me to be a savior for technology literacy.
I was born in 1969 to a family devoted to a strict Southern Baptist culture. Both of my parents were Sunday School teachers. Aside from annual church children summer camps and retreats, my sister and I went to church every Sunday, Sunday night and Wednesday night for as long back as I can remember.
But my mom possessed an undergraduate degree in biology. My dad was an architect that ushered in one of the first applications of CAD into practice in the state of Texas. Because of my mom’s interest in science and my dad’s fascination with technology, I was heartily fed a steady diet of STEM-oriented toys and social engagements. Instead of Barbie, I was given chemistry sets, programmable toys, rock and fossil collections, electric race car sets, and home computers. Instead of sports camps like many of my friends, I was sent to science camps, museum schools and foreign language lessons.
The images in this blog are of two of my most favorite “toys” from my childhood, the Big Trak and the TI994A. They and others were instrumental in shaping my love of technology. They were also highly influential in molding me to be “different.” In the late 70’s and early 80’s, 10 year old girls were simply not encouraged to explore robots and computers. Today, I am so incredibly grateful that I was exposed to that which was not considered appropriate for girls.
Again, I include this background because in the context of my story . . in the depths of my insanity, my childhood stood as proof that I was the product of a secret government project. And in my delusion, it all made perfect sense. I would come to believe that my parents, siblings, aunts and uncles . . all of them, were really government agents assigned to my upbringing. They toys I was given as a child were part of my conditioning.
I would eventually come to cut off all communication with my family out of anger and resentment over the fantastic charade I believed had been pulled over my eyes. And I would have bet my life, literally, that I was 100% correct,