MY GRANDMA TOOK OVER MY GAMING SETUP—AND NOW SHE’S RUNNING A ZOOM GROUP

Okay, so this is gonna sound completely made-up, but I swear on everything—it started with me letting my grandma borrow my gaming chair because her back was acting up.

I figured she’d sit in it for an hour, maybe mess with Solitaire or do a Zoom call with her knitting circle.

But no.

Day two, I come home from class, and she’s full-on posted up in my battle station—dual monitors blazing, ring light on, headset snug, sliders pulled up on my audio interface like she’s running a podcast or something.

And what really got me?

She didn’t even notice I walked in.

She was in the middle of this intense Zoom call with a bunch of people who looked… serious. Like, real serious. Business suits, dim lighting, one lady had a whiteboard behind her with names and arrows.

And Grandma was just sitting there, nodding along like she was giving some sort of financial presentation.

“Grandma?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I didn’t even know how to process what I was seeing.

She looked up, startled for a second, and then, without missing a beat, she smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. “Oh hey, sweetie, didn’t see you there. I’m just helping these folks out with a little project. You know, you can learn a lot from the younger generation.”

I blinked, still frozen in the doorway. “Helping them out with… what?”

She motioned to the screen. “We’re organizing a fundraiser for a local animal shelter. I’ve been teaching them about virtual marketing strategies, you know, getting them to understand how to reach the younger crowd and use social media effectively.”

Now, I was really confused. Grandma? Teaching a group of strangers on Zoom? About virtual marketing? What was going on?

“Uh, Grandma, this is… um, okay, this is my gaming setup. What are you doing here?”

She looked up at me with the same nonchalant expression she wore when she was casually watching her soap operas. “Well, your chair is really comfortable. And I figured you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed it for a little longer, especially since I’m getting so much done. Your equipment’s really nice. This mic? Fancy.”

I was about to say something, but before I could, one of the people on the call spoke up. “Hey, is this the genius with the social media tips? We could use more insight from your experience, Grandma.”

I stared at the screen in disbelief. They were all looking at her like she was some kind of guru. My grandma—my grandma—was teaching them something I had never expected her to even know about.

“Don’t worry, she’s been a great help,” the woman added, glancing at Grandma. “She really knows her stuff when it comes to community outreach, right?”

Grandma smiled proudly. “Well, I’ve been around for a while, honey. And you’d be surprised what you can learn when you listen to the younger generation. Now, let me show you something else I’ve learned. I’ve been setting up a few strategies for the shelter, and we’re gonna reach out to some big influencers. You’d be amazed at how much exposure we can get with a couple of well-placed posts and a little creativity. Don’t you think?”

I stood there for a moment, too stunned to speak. Grandma was running a Zoom group—and not just any Zoom group—one that sounded like a legit online business meeting. I thought back to her days of knitting and attending book club meetings and wondered how the heck we’d gotten here.

After she wrapped up her call, Grandma pulled off her headset and turned to me with a mischievous grin.

“I’ve got more calls later, sweetie. If you need the chair, I’ll give it back, but I’ve really been enjoying my little project here. You know, I never thought I’d be into all this ‘social media influencer’ stuff, but it’s actually kind of fun.”

I was still standing in the doorway, completely stunned. I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or just stand there and try to process everything. My grandma—the one who thought Facebook was the pinnacle of technology—was now teaching people how to run online marketing campaigns for nonprofits.

“Grandma… Are you telling me you just set up a fundraiser and gave social media advice to strangers?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around it.

She shrugged, unbothered. “You’d be surprised what you can do when you give something a try. I had to learn a little bit from the people I met, but now I’m showing them how to use it to help others. And besides, I have a little bit of experience. Remember when I helped organize that bake sale for the church? Same concept—just a little more… modern.”

I blinked. “That was… over 20 years ago. And it was a bake sale.”

She waved me off. “The principle is the same! And hey, I might not be a ‘gen Z’ influencer, but I can still teach these young folks a thing or two about connecting with people and making a real impact.”

It hit me then that this wasn’t just about the chair or the gadgets. Grandma wasn’t just playing around; she was genuinely invested in this group. She’d gone from just being a tech beginner to running an entire virtual meeting—something I had only dreamed of doing with my own gaming setup.

Over the next few weeks, things only got more surprising. Grandma’s Zoom group grew, not just in numbers, but in professionalism. They started scheduling multiple calls a week, brainstorming ideas, and actually getting some real traction. I came home one day to find my living room filled with flyers for a charity event they were planning. She was coordinating with local businesses, managing social media accounts, and even creating a YouTube channel for the cause.

I thought to myself, “What happened to my grandma?”

And then came the twist. One afternoon, she pulled me aside.

“I need a favor,” she said, her eyes serious for once. “I need your help with something important. I’ve been thinking about the next step for this group, and we need more engagement. I want you to help me with a live stream. You know how to do that gaming stuff, right?”

I was still in shock. “Wait… you want my help?”

She nodded. “I’ve been seeing how interactive live streams can be, and I think if we add that component to our fundraising events, it’ll really boost our reach. But I don’t know the technical stuff. You, on the other hand, know how to work a camera and keep people entertained. I need your expertise.”

And there it was. The karmic twist. I had spent so much time focusing on my own gaming world, selfishly keeping all the knowledge I had about the tech and online platforms to myself. But here was Grandma—using the very equipment I had once thought of as exclusively mine—doing good in the world, teaching others, and making an impact. She was finding purpose in ways I hadn’t even considered.

So, reluctantly, I agreed to help her. I set up the live stream, showed her how to manage the chat, and taught her how to interact with viewers. She took to it like a fish to water. Grandma, the woman who didn’t know how to send an email a year ago, was now live-streaming to hundreds of people, getting donations for the animal shelter, and showing others how to connect with their audience.

By the end of it, she had built an entire online community, not just for marketing, but for real-world impact. And through helping her, I realized something: it wasn’t just about technology or gaming—it was about using what you have to help others, to build connections, and to make a difference, no matter how small.

So here’s the message: sometimes, the most unexpected people can teach us the most valuable lessons. And the true reward doesn’t come from the gadgets or the tech you have, but from how you use it to help the world around you.

And Grandma? Well, she’s not just running a Zoom group anymore. She’s changed lives. Including mine.