Imagine doing your dream job at the
age of 91 - that's what Barbara Knickerbocker-Beskind, a designer in
Silicon Valley, is doing. She talks about her life long passion for
inventing.
During the Depression we had no money to buy anything,
so we were all problem-solvers right from the beginning - there was no
way around it, we had to be. We made everything except shoes and
glasses.
My father was one of the first 100 men to work for the
FBI, but when I was about a year old he lost his job and had no work for
seven years. We moved in with my grandmother. Can you imagine a toddler
being brought into a house of an 80-year-old who didn't like kids? She
never smiled. But I was very happy with my parents. My father was a keen
observer of his surroundings and imparted that to me. My mother was
very creative, and I followed suit.
We didn't have money to buy
toys so we used to make our own. I put two car tyres together to make a
hobby horse - I learned a lot about gravity because I fell off so many
times. Image copyrightGetty ImagesImage caption
Children made their own toys in the Depression of the 1930s - like this go-kart
I knew by the age of 10 that I wanted to become an
inventor, but I was told by my vocational adviser at school that they
didn't take women in engineering school, so I went into home economics,
thinking maybe they needed someone to design new can openers. Well, that
wasn't true.
When I graduated in Applied Arts and Design from
the Home Economics School of Syracuse University in 1945 I was very
fortunate to be accepted in the Army's Occupational Therapy (OT)
training programme. That really launched my career. Find out more
Listen to more extraordinary stories from Outlook on the BBC World Service
At that time occupational
therapists would use craft materials - weaving, carpentry, leather work -
to activate the hands and legs of patients who were coming back from
the war.
As
an occupational therapist (OT) in the army there were many things I had
to devise that were unique to each person's needs, both to adapt the
equipment to the patient, and to adapt devices for them individually to
make them independent and able to hold a spoon, a fork, a writing
utensil. Image copyrightUS ArmyImage caption
An Occupational Therapist adjusts a patient's foot
to the pedal of a bicycle jigsaw, used to exercise an injured leg - 1948
(US Army)
Image copyrightNMHMImage caption
Vocational Occupational Therapy, c. 1950s (Otis Historical Archives, National Museum of Health and Medicine)
Image copyrightNMHMImage caption
Vocational Occupational Therapy, c. 1950s (Otis Historical Archives, National Museum of Health and Medicine)
We had many polio epidemics at that time.
One
of my polio patients stands out for me: a flight commander who left
Hickam Field in Hawaii with a squadron of nine planes - he got sick so
fast that by the time they reached Travis Air Force Base in California
he was already paralysed. They had to unbolt the pilot's seat to lift
him out, and he never walked again. I worked with him, helping him to
use long leg braces, and designing an apparatus so that he could stand
and work at a table.
He was among many patients at Walter Reed
Army Medical Centre, where I was stationed for three years - during
polio epidemics any soldier, air corps personnel or dependant who lived
east of the Mississippi came there. Those west of this point were
treated at Letterman Army Hospital in San Francisco. Image copyrightNMHMImage caption
Patient with polio is carried to ambulance, c. 1950s
(US Army Signal Corps Photograph Collection, Otis Historical Archives,
National Museum of Health and Medicine)
In 1966, aged 42, I retired from the Army as a major
and went into private practice, the first occupational therapist in the
US to do so - I'm always a pioneer.
I worked with children with
learning disorders. I wanted to develop equipment that would appeal to
them but also help improve their balance.
I patented an inflated
square pillow, about 3ft high, with rolls around the outside that
protected children when they fell - I called it a space ship. It was fun
for them, but it also improved their sense of balance. Image copyrightUSPTOImage caption
Detail from Barbara Knickerbocker's 1974 patent for a balancing device (US Patent Office)
When I got married at the age of 52 my private
practice flourished, because we built a separate building that housed my
then-husband's practice of psychotherapy on one side and my OT practice
on the other. In 1984 we moved from New Jersey to Vermont and I was a
consultant for the school system there.
I tried to retire five
times - as an OT, as a private practitioner, as an author - but it never
works. I went back to school to become an artist in 1997 and that has
been helpful in drawing my inventions.
In 2013, I saw David Kelley - the founder of the design firm IDEO - on the TV programme 60 minutes.
When I realised he accepted, and really respected, people from a varied
background, I thought, "I have a unique kind of life experience and
designing skills - I could be of value to their firm." I was 89.
I
typed a letter, which might have caught their attention because they
don't get many communications by "snail mail"- I have macular
degeneration so my eyesight prevents me from using computers. Image copyrightBarbara Knickerbocker-BeskindWithin a week I got a response. They were just
starting to design implements that would be helpful to the ageing, and
so it was very fortuitous that I arrived at that time.
They
invited me to come in and meet a few people. When we sat down at a table
for four in the cafeteria, I thought, "That's very nice but I thought
there were going to be a couple more people." What I couldn't see was
that behind me people were filing in - about 30-35 designers and
engineers. Suddenly, I found myself being introduced as the speaker. I
got up and told my story and fielded some very interesting questions. Designing with real people in mind
IDEO is a global design and innovation consultancy founded in 1991 by David Kelley, Bill Moggridge and Mike Nuttall
Steve Jobs was one of their first clients - IDEO designed Apple's first mouse
The firm's approach to problem-solving is to put together teams from very diverse backgrounds
Designs always start with how people really behave - they call this "human-centered design"
After that I became an adviser for equipment and designing products and services for the elderly and the low-vision community.
Every
Thursday I walk three blocks to the train station - I know all the
conductors now. I arrive at either the Palo Alto or San Francisco IDEO
office around 10:00 and often sit on the same sofa, so that everyone
knows where to find me. Word spreads from the front desk and people will
arrange appointments with me for ongoing client projects. People will
also stop by to talk about what is going on with various projects - it's
an extremely collaborative environment.
I love working in this
atmosphere. I may be six or seven decades older than some of the people
I'm working with - and many of them have PhDs or masters degrees, which I
don't - but I'm accepted as an equal. My voice is respected for what I
bring to the table, for my experience, for my insights, and for my
inventive, problem-solving nature.
For example, for one product -
still under wraps - they intended to use batteries, but if these
batteries are tiny, like the ones for hearing aids, older hands can't
manipulate them easily and they drop them or lose them. My point was
that it was better to recharge the product at night, when it is not
being used.
No-one can expect, at a young age, to put themselves
in the shoes of an elderly person and sense what it's like. Even as
close as I am to the issues of the elderly, I have been amazed, and have
learned from people whom I live with in my retirement community. I've
always said to them, "Come and bring me your ideas of what you need."
There
was a gentleman who came up to me recently and said: "Barbara, I need
you to invent something for me - I walk slowly on a walker and I don't
hear well, so when somebody comes up behind me and slaps me on the back
it scares me to death. What can you do to help me? Maybe something that
would be like a mirror?" I thought, "Well, that's a no-brainer." I went
to the bicycle shop, got a rear-view mirror, attached it to his walker
and he is so happy. Image copyrightBarbara Knickerbocker-BeskindImage caption
Barbara put a rear-view mirror on a friend's walker
so he would no longer be surprised by people coming up behind him
One lady said, "The grips in the shower are slippery
when you have soap on your hands, we need a rough interior surface."
Well, how complicated is that? Then I looked at them very closely and
realised they're made for 200lb men with large hands - we need three
sizes, with a small grip at the bottom for little old ladies, who have
very small hands.
On a personal level - as my central vision is lost, I
have no vision of people's faces. I'd like to have a camera mounted on
the bridge of a pair of glasses that has face recognition so that as
somebody approaches, if they say: "This is Gloria," the next time that
person approaches, it says in my ear: "This is Gloria." That way I can
meet people and not have to wait until they tell me who they are.
If
you're going to design for the elderly, ask them what they need, don't
tell them. We don't need pink canes and jewelled pill boxes, we need
functional equipment that makes us more independent, keeps us safe and
gives us joy.
I think the elderly are an untapped resource, whose input should be sought.
I
don't expect everyone to enjoy working the way I do, but if you don't
have something that identifies you in a positive light - whether you're
the best knitter or someone who can still play the piano beautifully -
you lose your identity. And this is my identity - I'm working.
No comments:
Post a Comment