I remember my first time using Google.
That may sound like a strange core memory, but it stands out distinctly. I was visiting my aunt and uncle around 1999, and one of the highlights was hopping onto the house computer in the designated computer room. We weren’t allowed to play the game Doom at home, so it was always the first thing my brother and I threw elbows to do when our parents weren’t watching.
On this particular visit, my uncle mentioned that he wanted to show me something new called “Google.” I chuckled at the name, but when he pulled up the homepage and I saw the cursor blinking in the search box, I sensed its power.
We were a World Book Encyclopedia family; my grandfather would visit and select a new letter each time to browse in the backyard while we were in school. Then came Encarta 95, the CD-ROM version of the encyclopedia, which digitized our now dusty collection of shiny books.
And then, at 12, I realized I could look up anything and find an answer in seconds.
Flash forward to 2005, and another core memory stands out—the first time I could log onto “The Facebook” because I finally had a .edu email address, thanks to my freshman year at Furman. I was at a friend’s house when I got the email address and immediately created an account. Someone had already set up a “Class of 2009” group, and we quickly added friends in this strange phenomenon of meeting people in 2D before encountering them in real life.
Now, both seem ubiquitous and perhaps like they were always there.
I have always had a strange interest in technology (I am the dubbed “IT guy” on the team, after all), so when I tried ChatGPT for the first time, I sensed it would be added to my list of essential intersections between life and tech.
Fear has always been present in the mix with Google, Facebook, and now AI—and for good reason. Perhaps this time last year, I wrote my first thoughts about my perspective on AI and how I was still stridently believing in the power of human-generated stories. I felt defensive and needed to put my stake firmly in the ground on the value of my craft.
A year later, AI is an integral part of my everyday work and life. It attends my meetings, takes notes, summarizes my interviews to highlight key points, evaluates my grammar, and analyzes data rapidly to create trend maps or budgets. AI assists me with meal planning, grocery lists, birthday gift ideas, and generating stock photography for user personas.
I think of AI as a “her,” and I want to use “her” to help me build efficiencies, improve processes, and brainstorm. I want her to help me with my busy work and move through the sludge of things I don’t like to do so that I can do the things I love most.
But I don’t want her to dull my curiosity, critical thinking, or creative spark that makes me unique. She is a tool in my toolbox, but not the whole box.
So, I suppose this meandering post is an update about Kate’s view on AI, as it stands in spring of 2025. I aim to understand its potential and maximize it for my benefit, TealHaus’s benefit, and the benefit of our clients. Not to replace what we do, but to help us do the things we love and are best at the most, leaving the drudgery to the bots.
And who knows what we might have more opportunity to do…Doom, anyone?
