What?
What
would I like to teach the world to do?
What
would you like to teach the world to do?
Decades
ago, the quick and immediate answer would involve the world, singing,
and a cold Coca-Cola. That may not jump readily to mind with a
lot of people these days, but about forty to fifty years ago it
was a song written as a marketing jungle. (And it is a marketing
theme that Coca-Cola uses even today in a variety of ways and
places.)
It
turned out to be a brilliant one at that. So brilliant that during
the early years of its release, the jingle was expanded into a
full-length song.
Instead
of a frosty, refreshing beverage and a song though, I do wonder.
What would you like to teach the world?
Would
it involve getting along? A world peace kind of arrangement?
Are
you frustrated by something specific? Does it bother you that
people don’t know how to stack the ingredients on your burger?
Maybe you don’t like the way anyone pulls into a parking space.
Do
you have a special talent and desire getting others involved?
Art? Music? Physical fitness?
Would
you like to teach the world how to improve the impact we have
on the environment?
I
don’t have an answer, I’m just asking a conversation-starter question.
What would you like to teach the world?
Many
years ago—many, many, many years ago—a friend and I were talking
about computers. He was walking me through a pretty basic issue
I was having with my new one. As I cursed a bit, he nudged me
along by saying that mistakes happen and I was going to learn
far more by making and then fixing them than virtually anything
else.
Not
only was he right with that observation and advice, it turns out
it applies to just about everything. Mistakes happen. And usually,
diving in and finding problems, then correcting them, is going
to provide more information and growth than most alternative ways
of gaining knowledge.
So,
teaching the world something? I suppose we need to start by acknowledging
that mistakes will be made. Which is probably where we need to
adjust a few things. Not changes, actually. But understandings.
We live in a world where mistakes can be criticized and shamed,
and that just isn’t right. It’s one thing to critique from the
position of offering suggestions, assistance, and support. Quite
another to do so with malice and an agenda.
Hold
on. Are we saying I’d like to teach the world patience, respect
and understanding? Maybe. Just maybe. While not what I was expecting,
I wouldn’t be upset with such a legacy.