So, this whole “reach one, teach one” idea. I’ve heard it tossed around a bunch. Sounds good, doesn’t it? Like we’re all supposed to be lifting each other up, sharing the knowledge. Simple. At least, that’s what I thought at first.
I figured I’d give it a proper go. My neighbor, old Mrs. Henderson, she’d just gotten one of those newfangled tablet things. You know, for video calling her grandkids. She was mostly using it as a very expensive paperweight. So, I popped over. Thought to myself, this’ll be a piece of cake, I’ll have her FaceTiming in no time. Reach one, teach one, here I come.
Well, let me tell you, it wasn’t quite the smooth sailing I imagined. It wasn’t even really about the tablet’s buttons or apps. I’d start explaining how to open the call app, and she’d nod, real polite. Then, out of nowhere, she’d launch into this story about her prize-winning roses from back in ’78. Or how her cat, Mittens, figured out how to open the pantry door. I’d try, you know, gently guide her back, “Right, Mrs. Henderson, so, about that green call button…” and then we’d be off on a tangent about the best way to darn socks. It was… an experience.
And That Reminds Me Of This One Time…
It actually brought back this memory from an old job I had. Nothing fancy, just a regular office grind. We got this new intern, super young, barely said a word. My boss, a well-meaning guy, he says to me, “Look, you know our inventory system inside out. Take the new kid under your wing. Show him how it’s done. You know, reach one, teach one. Builds character.”
So, I sat down with this intern. Our inventory system? It was a nightmare. Honestly. Built on stuff from the dark ages. It took me ages to learn all its weird quirks and workarounds. So, I started walking him through it, all the painful steps, the “you gotta click this, then wait, then click that” kind of deal. The kid just sat there, blinking. I figured he was either a genius and got it instantly, or totally lost. Probably the latter.
The very next morning, this intern, still quiet as a mouse, comes up to my desk. He shows me his laptop. He’d stayed up a bit late, he said, and put together this tiny little script. This thing, it basically automated half of the garbage I was trying to “teach” him. Pulled data, formatted it, the whole shebang. My jaw just about unhinged. All that “teaching” I was doing? Pointless for him. He didn’t need my ancient methods. He just went and built a better mousetrap. My boss grumbled a bit, something about “not following protocol,” but he couldn’t really argue when our team suddenly had way more free time.
So, yeah. I was supposed to be the “teacher” in that situation. But that intern? He definitely taught me a few things. Mostly that sometimes the old way isn’t the only way, and sometimes the person you think you’re helping is about to blow your mind.
Anyway, back to Mrs. Henderson and her tablet. In the end, I managed to get her grandkids saved as big, easy-to-press icons on her home screen. One tap, and she’s video calling. She was over the moon. Still tells me about her roses, and honestly, I kinda enjoy it now. This “reach one, teach one” business, it’s not always about a perfect transfer of skills. Sometimes it’s just about connecting, finding that one little thing that makes a difference. And sometimes, you learn a heck of a lot more than you thought you would, often from the person you were trying to “teach.” It’s messier and more surprising than the neat little saying suggests. But I guess that’s just how things are, right?
