At first they got sick, and then moved to a virtual Utopia.

In real life, Fran was a lover of cross-country walking and a dancer. But when Parkinson's disease deprived her of mobility, she opened a new home inside Second Life.

One day in November, Fran Serenade led me and her daughter Barbie along a steep slope in the mountains of Appalachia. The sun was high, Fran walked briskly, bending down to walk under the blue-green diagonals of the fir branches, with hair flowing behind her. She wanted to show me her house of logs, standing on the side of the road next to the red barn on the shore of the blue lake with a beautiful waterfall. Next to the barn, we met a cat, Fran, Amici, and several other cats, and they all wore knitted hats. Fran stroked Amici, and she mumbled after her.

In the fireplace house burned fire. Fran pointed to her favorite items: an antique ice box, an embroidered tablecloth, a wicker basket. Then we went to tai chi classes.
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With her blond hair, heart-shaped face, tight hips and jeans and a tiny waist, Fran looked like a young Dolly Parton. Beautiful as a doll. Barbie, also slim and beautiful, in a vest with a leopard pattern and red lipstick, looked less rustic and more glamorous. Mother and daughter were in heels, even while walking.

It turns out that heels perfectly behave on virtual paths, regardless of their steepness. The path and the house we visited exist inside the online virtual world Second Life [Second Life]. They are designed to resemble the real path and house on the Blue Ridge in North Carolina, where Fran once lived. Fran Serenade is an avatar of Fran Swenson, a 89-year-old former nurse with a shock of silver-colored curls and a Brooklyn accent. Barbie - Barbara's avatar, her daughter in real life.

Fran spent the summer in a house on the Blue Ridge with her husband. But then he developed Parkinson's disease . According to her, he gradually lost control of his body, and as a result, he lost his ability to breathe and died. That was in 2003. A year later, Fran received news that she also had Parkinson's disease. On the day she found out about this, Fran allowed herself a couple of hours of despair. She then sat down and wrote a list of all the things she was not going to stop doing, and signed them: “The Unsinkable Fran.”

When she first entered Second Life eight years ago, the virtual world was already at its peak. In 2006, the number of SL members exceeded 1.1 million. Some of them made good money selling goods in the virtual world: the same year, the first millionaire SL decorated the cover of Businessweek. The world has also been honored in television series such as The Office and CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.

At that time, some believed that SL was the last cordon of social networks, a digital utopia, where all owners of the Internet connection would be settled as a result. Traditionalists were afraid that the inhabitants of the world would become so involved in virtual life that they would ignore the physical existence and offline connections — that they would live in SL all the time. Then the players switched to new platforms, the developers were carried away by the three-dimensional virtual reality. The graph of the number of members SL became horizontal. Facebook has risen instead.

Today SL is almost forgotten by the general public. Every month there are about 800,000 regular users, judging by the data from the parent SL for Linden Lab. This is a bit compared to 1.86 billion active Facebook users .

But some communities continue to flourish in the virtual world. One of them is a community of people with disabilities, a diverse group that includes deaf and blind people, people with emotional problems such as autism and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), people with mobility-limiting diseases like Parkinson's disease, cortical paralysis. and multiple sclerosis. Officially, their number is unknown, but Wagner James Au, who has written extensively on SL , suggests that there may be up to 20% of users. Some active users talk about 50%.

Unlike ordinary games, there are few rules in SL. Residents can customize their avatars in countless ways. They can fly and teleport as easily as they can walk, run and jump. They can build custom houses and islands, buy and sell goods in virtual stores, from motorcycle outfit and bird songs to the opportunity to swim like a mermaid. They can marry their loved one from SL, go to the moon on a rocket, or just get into bed at night.

For many people with disabilities who spend 12 or more hours in SL, it is in the virtual world that the most important moments happen and relationships start. For them, what was a bold fantasy ten years ago has become a reality: they live in SL.

The largest community of people with disabilities in the game is going on the Virtual Ability Island, which is an archipelago of five islands - two public and three "private", where you can rent or buy houses. It was created by Alice Kruger. In 2007, Kruger joined SL with several friends with disabilities who were familiar with her online chat rooms.

At that moment, she had already begun to isolate herself from the world due to the development of multiple sclerosis. She lost her job, she had to refuse to work as a volunteer, she could not even attend the school events of her children. Friends stopped visiting her. She was 58 years old.

“Essentially, I just ended up captive in my room,” says Kruger. “But I'm not so boring.” I thought “what could I do if I can't do anything in the physical world?”. They chatted with friends from time to time on the SL. They liked the idea of ​​being mobile and having a “body”. So they decided to try it.

Soon there were already 20 people. A community of librarians suggested they use a piece of land on one of their islands. Kruger called her group “Virtual Opportunities” and registered as a non-profit. Together with the librarians, she applied for a grant from the National Medical Library to create a center for the care and training of people with disabilities and chronic diseases. There were other groups of people with disabilities in SL who Kruger applied for to help. They decided that their island should make a political statement: disability is determined by the environment. There are no stairs on the Island of Virtual Opportunities (HNS) - only a ramp.

OVV now has thousands of members and holds dozens of events a week, including games, live piano music concerts, dancing and workshops for independent work. On the main island there is a center for new arrivals, with mentors teaching newcomers how to manage in SL and set up an avatar. On another island called “Capacity of the Cape”, a cafe called “deaf chat” was organized for people with missing or poor hearing, the concept of which is borrowed from offline. Only here visitors communicate not with gestures, but with text. The art gallery of the island presents works performed by deaf people and people with disabilities.

An event popular on the HNS is a campfire gathering twice a week. One Wednesday in December I decided to visit it. I arrived early, shortly before 11 am SL, which coincides with the Pacific [PST, is 8 hours behind GMT - approx. trans.]. A dozen sleeping bags and several tents set up are located around a giant campfire, popping and spewing sparks and smoke.

Although it was morning, I was advised to change the sky at midnight, so that on its background one could observe a specially arranged northern lights. I clicked on the green sleeping bag to lie on it. My avatar stretched out, and I watched the dance of blue, green and purple flashes in the black sky. The circle of light from the fire extended a little further than the ring of sleeping bags and tents. Although there was no heat from the fire, the crackling, light and smoke created a feeling of warmth. It seemed to me that I had come to the set of a television show about gatherings by the fire, and the episode had not yet begun.

Soon, the first avatars began to teleport to the shore - as if pictures came to life, they materialized with broad strokes: head, body, tail, and wing. Kruger, whose avatar name is Gentle Heron ["Gentle Heron"], arrived first. She brought Nightchil Eon ["the infinity of night coolness"], a man from Alabama with autism, who first met their group. Then a blind man joined them nickname camaro92, deaf Catholic nun with nickname Sister, whose avatar wore a military uniform, and a woman from Britain suffering from autism and agoraphobia, with an avatar in the form of a small metal ball in a woolen cap holding a blue balloon.

As a result, a dozen avatars attended the meeting. Human-like characters were sitting or lying on sleeping bags, and the hybrid hung in the air next to the pier. The conversation was conducted in text form, so that people without hearing could participate in it, for example, Sister, as well as those who do not accept voice communication, like an autistic woman from Britain. When everyone was settled, the main activity was shown in the chat window - people were busy typing and did not care about avatars. The conversation was lively and resembled the conversation of close friends. It lasted for two hours, and then suddenly everyone disappeared, teleported to other places, or closed SL.

“Will we meet with any of you on Saturday's get-togethers?” Asked the giant gray bird Kora before flying away, writing “wave my wings” instead of “bye-bye”.

I left one of the last. The setting was almost the same as I found it at first, filled with animation and sounds, but it seemed devastated, as if theater magic had disappeared from the scene. Although the avatars did not move for most of the two-hour hour, I sensed people behind them. It is these people who bring life to SL.

Eight years ago, having entered SL, Fran was very homesick. She sold her beloved homes in North Carolina and on the island of Nettles in Florida, and moved to a nursing home in southern California, where her daughter Barbara lived. Barbara's brother, an inventor and programmer, tried the world of SL on himself and invited them to try. They did not want to stay for long, but Barbara quickly realized the potential. To give her mother a sense of home, she began to recreate the places Fran had missed so much on Francastic Island.

She built a rocky mountain, on which we walked, covered it with fir and birch trees, introduced a waterfall. Developed a path through the Appalachian Mountains and installed a house. Then she set up a bright white beach at the foot of the mountain, where palm trees grew here and there, filled the bay with boats, slides and jet skis. I made the birds sing, and the waves roll out to the shore. Placed hammocks and gazebos, gardens and Fran's beloved covered bridges. Fran filled the house with reminders such as quilts, tablecloths, and wall decorations similar to those she had in her past life. Fran had a hard time learning how to manage an avatar, but she tried.

Fran and Barbara claim that the more time Fran spent in SL, the younger she felt in real life. Observing how her avatar walked along the paths and danced gave her confidence that she could try to do some things in the real world that she hadn’t tried for five years to leave the curb or stand without help. These were small but important victories for Fran.



The story Fran began to unwind when Draxtor, the user who shot the video on SL, shot and posted a video about her on YouTube. He has a series of videos " Creators of the Worlds ", in which he tells stories about people hiding behind SL avatars. In the film, Fran explains that her experience in using SL can be compared almost to the fountain of youth. It also described a charity fundraising event for Parkinson's disease research organized by Fran and Barbara in SL, and a weekly virtual patient support group led by Fran. And suddenly Fran had followers. Someone from the SL community uses the term “Fran effect” to describe the improvements in human functioning in real life associated with his presence in the SL.

This is not a magic. Many studies show that by presenting movements , but not moving at the same time, one can positively influence motor skills, balance and training. This effect is observed in athletes and healthy people. Researchers have even found that people who are paralyzed due to a rupture of the spinal cord can stimulate nerve growth and regeneration, imagining how they move their limbs - although this takes a lot of time and effort. Studies suggest that the therapeutic effect of virtual reality goes beyond the limits of movement disorders - and includes effects on chronic pain, cognitive function in people with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and post-traumatic stress disorder, as well as on the social abilities of people with different forms of autism.

Some people worry that SL can adversely affect health. Sheila, a 52-year-old woman with whom I met, suffers from osteoarthritis, spinal defects and chronic pain. She says she spends so much time in virtuality that it bothers her therapist. SL she runs all day, from 9 am until late evening. 4 nights a week she works in a virtual bohemian shop called Freebird selling geodes, vintage watches with cats and hand-hamsters.

Sheela believes that her therapist's concerns are groundless - that she confuses SL with toys, a less important pastime. Sheela is also ambiguous about identification as a person with disabilities in the virtual world. Although HNS introduced her to SK, she attends few community events. “I don’t want to be enrolled in the ghetto,” she says.

Often met by Sheela in SL, people only after long conversations admit to her that they also have their limitations. She wants to encourage optimism among people with disabilities in SL, but does not want to stoop to the point that in this community they call “inspiring porn” - the need to find the meaning of their suffering and organize a happy ending.

People with no health problems want to fix people with disabilities - many of them want to improve - but the idea that suffering purifies and hardens the spirit is at the core of many world religions. These aspirations are combined in the metaphor of a disabled hero, whose technology makes a full-fledged superkalek, one of seven stereotypes for people with disabilities, according to media analyst Jack A. Nelson.

James Cameron's 2009 blockbuster, Avatar, follows this scenario. Paralyzed Marine Jake Sully is sent on a mission to the planet Pandora in the body of a local alien Na'vi. He is tasked with eliminating Na'vi with the help of military force, but Na'vi receive signals that he has a “strong heart” and teach him his way of life. As a result, he saves them and their planet, showing extraordinary courage, and forever unites with his avatar.

Sometimes a happy ending is not so straightforward. In one of the episodes of the futuristic television series “The Black Mirror”, an aging protagonist of Yorkie, a homosexual woman who was paralyzed since the age of 21, is looking for a part-time job in the benevolent virtual world of San Junipero. She finds her love there and begins to live life to the fullest. Noteworthy is the optimism of this episode, since the show usually draws deeply anti-utopian pictures of how people interact with technology.

SL today demonstrates almost ancient technology. It is buggy and unintuitive. Voice communication often fails. Finding clothes requires digging in thousands of items from inventory stored in folders. A disguised rookie may suddenly discover that he is naked.

But it’s almost impossible to update the interface, as devotees have been learning it for the last ten years, creating their own workarounds and third-party viewing programs. Any changes will break all these attempts.

The virtual worlds of the next wave will be much cooler - and they are already on the way. SL's parent company, Linden Lab, this year is to roll out a new Sansar virtual world that will use VR helmets like the Oculus Rift or Vive. Another world that supports BP, High Fidelity, will also be released this year. It was created by one of Linden Lab’s two founders, Philip Rosedale.

The emergence of news about the release of new virtual worlds caused excitement among SL veterans who were afraid that all their efforts, interconnections and business enterprises that they invested in SL will be lost. Barbara spent thousands of dollars and seven years living, building and buying things for herself and her mother inside SL. They cannot be transferred to Sansar or High Fidelity.

But Linden Lab is trying to reassure residents with the information that SL will be functioning for a long time. The company does not reveal the details of its financial condition, since it is private, but General Ebb Altberg argues that SL brings a very good profit.

According to him, SL's annual GDP is half a billion dollars, and the creators of SL last year earned $ 60 million. But most of the money Linden Lab earns from renting islands in SL, and not from the percentage of the turnover of goods. SL revenues finance the creation and exit of Sansar.

“This day may come, after many, many years, when we say:“ Wow, we have only 12 people left here, everyone else has found better places, and there is no sense to support this thing anymore, ”but now you shouldn’t think about it - says Altberg. “This moment is so far away that we spend zero seconds thinking about it.” Now SL has a big advantage: an environment with a wide range of possibilities and a dedicated creative community that has used the product for years.

Despite contributions to SL, many members of the virtual community of people with disabilities are not averse to trying new worlds. The three-dimensional virtual reality therapeutic effect may be greater than that of such almost two-dimensional, which offers you SL. It can be well suited for people whose capabilities do not allow them to work with the keyboard, since at BP everything can be done through a helmet.

But people with limited mobility may find it difficult to operate with such a full-sized avatar, which is required for immersion in BP. For deaf people, SL-type text worlds can be better suited than dv-VR worlds, according to Jamais Casio[Jamais Cascio], futurist and veteran of cyberspace. New helmets for BP help you navigate with sound. Text-to-speech helps people who are blind. For some people, helmets can cause nausea or dizziness. And their cost is high - a VR-helmet and a modern computer can cost thousands of dollars. Most people with disabilities are disabled and limited in finances.

Also, work is underway on a program for viewing SL, focused on people with disabilities. Professor of Media Studies Donna Davis [Donna Davis] from the University of Oregon and her colleague Tom Boelstorff [Tom Boellstorff], an anthropologist from the University of California at Irvine, received a grant from the National Science Foundation to create a client program that improves usability for blind and deaf people. Today, the blind use the Radeghast client, designed for people from SL who are interested in binding. He has his own features.

One of the advantages of SL and makes it so inconvenient to use: the ability to build things from scratch, using flexible modules that resemble Lego bricks, called "prima". Users can be real creators. “In this sense, you are a god, because you have complete control over your life,” Barbara tells me.

Fran turns 90 this week. Five of her closest friends in SL — they all belong to the weekly support group — decided to go to southern California to have a gala dinner in the physical world. But on her birthday, the party will be held in SL. Barbara arranges a party for Fran in the virtual copy of Savoy's Ballroom, a Harlem jazz club from the 1940s, where real singers and ensembles will perform for 6 hours.

In her life, Fran was once an avid dancer, able to capture the attention of the crowd. Today she travels with a wheelchair or walker. She is rarely chosen outside, except to serve in the local church. Although she adores cats, now she doesn’t have them, she could not take care of them. Fran's hands are shaking, and this is starting to interfere with her crocheting.

But on her birthday Fran would put on her dance shoes and go to the dance floor. She will dance as she pleases, surrounded by her favorite things and people.