WIth the Russian economy in a downward spiral and Cuba shaking off its dusty communist past,
readers probably expect a timely blog. Not yet. I am still reeling from the Cuba news and haven't
yet had enough time to process all the possible changes. This week, I decided to write about a topic
that has been nagging me--passwords. Passwords are the bane of my existence. One of the great
benefits of retirement was shucking my school passwords. But, life is still a chain of abracadabras to get into my
bank accounts, email, social media, charge accounts—all readers who are accessing this blog online
know about passwords. The latest hacker attack on Sony has only amplified my concerns although I’m not sure
that our book is quite as valuable as a Sony script and my emails are probably not as juicy as Sony’s.
Still, it points to our vulnerability and a need to be mindful of actions we rarely consider like tapping on a
computer keyboard. We thought communication had become so much easier, but; alas, it seems to have
become complex with back door hackers knocking at our data.
When I first began to use passwords, I used our cat’s name. As I began to collect student emails, I noticed
I was on trend—many of my students from fourth grade to high school also used their pet’s name. When
one of my children was able to access my computer without a second thought, assuming the cat’s
name was the password, I decided to become more sophisticated. The more sophisticated I
became, the easier it was to forget my own entry code so I began to write down all my codes. Then
I lost the sheet of paper with the codes. The codes were listed in code so I wasn’t worried some hacker
would now have easy access to my secret world, but I knew I couldn’t remember all those complicated
phrases or the tortured reasoning involved in their creation.
A few years ago I decided to redo my passwords and decided to use passwords like a yahrzeit candle.
For those unfamiliar with a yahrzeit candle, it’s a Jewish custom to burn a candle for 24+ hours on the
anniversary of the death of a parent, child, or spouse and on holidays when the memorial prayer is recited.
My 21st century yahrzeit candle became my password system. Of course, to use “dad” as a password is not
very secure so I had to be clever about incorporating names and memories into the password. Now when
I access my email or my bank statement or library account, etc., I have an entirely different experience –
memories begin to flow. I feel so blessed that I now have the time to allow the memories to pass before
my eyes and even allow a tear or two. It reminds me that nothing is so urgent as remembering friends and
family. But, still, it’s hard to remember those pesky passwords!