What You Don’t Know
When I was a young man working my first jobs, I learned what kind of boss I would never be.
I worked for men who treated the people beneath them like competition. They held information close. They acted as if teaching somebody a useful skill would somehow make them less important. They pointed out mistakes to embarrass people instead of showing them how to improve.
They wanted workers nervous.
They wanted workers guessing.
They wanted workers afraid to ask questions.
That kind of boss may control a room for a while.
But he never builds a team.
When I became a boss, I made a different choice. I worked with my people, not against them. I never saw the men and women working beside me as competition. I saw them as part of the solution.
A job gets done right when everyone has the confidence to speak up.
I wanted people to feel comfortable enough to come to me and say, “Something isn’t right here,” or “I don’t know how to do this yet,” or “Can you show me one more time?”
That is not weakness.
That is professionalism.
We double-checked our work. We looked for mistakes before they became expensive. We pointed out what went wrong, but we also showed how to fix it. Nobody had to be humiliated. The goal was not to prove who was the smartest person on the job.
The goal was to make sure everybody became a better handyman or handywoman than they were yesterday.
I used to say, “Take a mental snapshot.”
When you see something done right, take a mental snapshot.
When you see something done wrong, take a mental snapshot.
When you discover a problem nobody expected, take a mental snapshot.
Your mind remembers pictures, moments, sounds, and feelings. Give your brain something to hold on to. Train it over time. Then, when somebody asks you how to solve a problem, you can stop, think, and say:
“One moment. Let me roll that tape back.”
And sometimes somebody else on the team will say:
“I remember that snapshot.”
That is when you know the lesson stayed with them.
You gave them a trigger phrase. You gave them a way to remember. You built confidence instead of fear. You gave them permission to learn.
That lesson stayed with me.
A workplace is only a small version of the world. If people learn more when they are treated with respect on a job site, imagine what could happen if more doors opened for people who wanted to learn everywhere else.
You do not know what you do not know.
That does not make you stupid.
You just do not know.
It makes you human.
In this world, when somebody wants to learn, there is often a big price tag waiting for them. It can feel like a punishment.
“How dare you want to improve yourself? That will cost you.”
But the doors to learning should swing open for anyone willing to walk through them.
Teaching people is one of the best investments we can make not only in one person, but in the whole world.
There are talented people everywhere. Creative people. People with ideas for better cars built to last, better tools, stronger homes, cleaner systems, safer communities, and less waste thrown into landfills.
But many of those people never get the chance to learn, build, create, or sit at the table where decisions are made.
Open the door, and you may find the person with the answer.
A man can know how to rebuild an engine and not know the name of a flower. A woman can know how to run a business and not know a word that some professor uses every day. A doctor can save a life and still not know how to fix a roof leak. A carpenter can build a house and not know how to read a balance sheet.
Nobody knows everything.
The wiser person is the one who can say:
“I don’t know. Show me.”
There are people who wait for another person to make a mistake. They watch. They listen. They hope you use the wrong word, misspell a name, misunderstand an idea, or ask a question they think you should already know.
Then they smile.
They call you ignorant.
But ignorance is not a crime.
It only means there is something you have not learned yet.
Every person on earth is ignorant about thousands of things before breakfast.
Nobody is born knowing how to read. Nobody comes into the world knowing how to change a tire, raise a child, wire a house, calm a frightened person, cook a meal, survive grief, or forgive betrayal.
Someone teaches them.
Or life teaches them the hard way.
That is why decent people teach.
They do not humiliate.
They do not throw a word at somebody like a rock and then congratulate themselves because it hit. They explain it. They show the person. They say:
“Here is what that means. Here is how it works. Now you know.”
That is strength.
You plant good seeds when you teach without making someone feel small.
You plant bad seeds when you mock somebody for not knowing what you know.
Bad seeds grow too.
They grow into resentment. They grow into silence. They grow into people who stop asking questions because they are tired of being laughed at. Then everybody loses. One person loses a chance to learn. The group loses someone who might have brought a useful idea, a new invention, a better way, or a solution nobody else could see.
No one with a sound mind wants to be treated like dirt.
Not you. Not me. Not the person who made a spelling mistake. Not the person who used the wrong word. Not the person who did not understand something that was never part of their work, upbringing, or daily life.
If you do not use a word, why would you know it?
If nobody showed you how something works, why should you pretend you understand it?
There is no honor in pretending.
There is honor in learning.
Take two good handymen.
One has spent years repairing plumbing, replacing rotten floors, hanging doors, and dealing with old houses built wrong from the beginning. The other has spent years working on electrical problems, drywall, roofing, cabinets, and tools the first man has never touched.
Put them together.
The first man teaches the second how to spot a failing pipe before the wall comes apart. The second shows the first how to trace a wire safely before somebody gets hurt.
Neither man becomes less skilled by sharing what he knows.
They both become better.
That is how work should be.
That is how communities should be.
That is how people should be.
A mechanic teaches an apprentice. A nurse teaches a family how to care for someone at home. A neighbor shows another neighbor how to repair a fence. An artist teaches a young musician a chord. One person shares a tip that saves another person days of struggle.
That is progress.
But too many people treat life like a contest.
They want to be the smartest person in the room. They want to catch the mistake. They want to win an argument that nobody else knew was a game. They want somebody else to look foolish because it makes them feel taller for a minute.
That is jealousy wearing a clean shirt.
If you need competition, play sports.
Play ball. Race a car. Lift weights. Box in Effective Communication a ring. Run the mile. Keep score on a field where everybody agreed to the rules.
But do not turn everyday life into a game where people must lose so you can feel important.
A person who teaches someone else does not lose knowledge.
They multiply it.
A person who shares a useful tip does not become less valuable.
They become the kind of person people remember when things get hard.
We have enough talent, knowledge, food, tools, and human creativity to build a better life for everybody. What we lack is not ability. What we lack is the willingness to stop hoarding and start helping.
We could build things that last longer.
We could waste less.
We could throw fewer usable things into landfills.
We could let more good minds sit at the table.
We could create a world where more people have enough, where fewer people are afraid they will not have what they need, and where a good idea matters more than who said it.
The problem is not that ordinary people do not know enough.
The problem is that too many people are taught to hoard what they know, guard their little advantage, and confuse greed with success.
Greed is never satisfied.
Give greed a full table, and it complains about the size of the plate.
Give it money, and it wants more.
Give it power, and it wants someone beneath it.
But a good life is not built by taking everything.
A good life is built by having enoughand helping make sure the people around you have enough, too.
So the next time someone does not know something, do not rush to label them.
Show them.
Explain it.
Give them the word.
Give them the tool.
Give them the chance to become better.
One day, they may know something you do not.
And if they are decent, they will show you.
Thank you for taking the time to read my copyright. May these pages bring light, healing, and hope.
Roy Dawson, Earth Angel, Master Magical Healer, Singer-Songwriter, Prophet, Poet. Guide.