Prepare to be Frustrated
I intended to start one users group, targeted on people exploring the idea of going into Filemaker Developing as a career. Due to geographic realities, we ended up with two groups — one in Cleveland and one in Akron.
The members are at wildly different levels of developing experience. Luckily, due to some kind of benevolent intervention from the Filemaker Fairies, the geographical split happens to match the experience split. In Akron, I teach . . . something Filemaker . . . then sit down, shut up and take notes, because these guys all have experience I don’t have in programming, IT and other tech areas.
In Cleveland . . . well, most importantly, we take turns paying for pizza. And then we go all hands-on up in Filemaker, because these members haven’t developed at all. Yet. They are smart and experienced in business, so here it’s a matter of getting their feet wet. Then their ankles. Then their knees. You get the idea.
It’s all about the scaffolding. What am I on — my third metaphor? Stay fluid, people — it’s probably not my last.
During my brief stint working on a Masters in Education, I learned the educational theory that we don’t learn in some linear, obvious process. It’s more like the structure of a building — you’ve got beams going all directions, and those beams provide places for other things (bits of knowledge) to attach to.
Truthfully, although I use the term “scaffolding,” my mind always goes to those hideous, colorful cornstarch noodles that my kids used to lick and stick together in tall Suessian-type structures.
(Sidenote: Teach your children not to leave those sitting around near the shower. Particularly if you have a blind husband, as I did at the time. They stick to all damp flesh.)
It takes a little while to build a base, whether of steel girders or sticky noodles, before you can add enough pieces to have a comprehensible structure.
In Cleveland, we basically spent our last meeting eating pizza, catching up stories of unruly children (mine) and taking turns mangling several Starter Solutions (Filemaker templates, for the as-yet unconverted).
One of the users is daughter-aged, so I saw the dissatisfaction on her face before she said it — “I usually pick things up really quickly, but . . . ”
“Be frustrated,” I told her. “If you can just let yourself be frustrated for a while, you’ll get this, and you’ll be good at it.”
She looked skeptical, but this is something I’m sure of.
When I started out in Filemaker, I had no tech experience. I had been a novelist/caregiver/ghostwriter/mom. I tried to read through the manuals, but a lot of that knowledge had nothing to stick to. I was frustrated and sometimes overwhelmed. I literally had nightmares about cascading value lists.
Eventually I accumulated a few sticky noodles. I could build pretty layouts. And, okay, I could import these data from Excel. And, there we go, a basic script to handle that data. It felt like nothing, but, if you know databases, you know those are the bottom layers of fundamental concepts — the logic, the data, the interface.
And as I floundered, other stray bits of knowledge floated by and adhered to the nearly-dry-from-age surface of my knowledge. I was frustrated. As I’ve said before, I considered quitting at least once a month. I’m not sure when I got past that. Maybe like a month ago. But the structure of my knowledge grew into the structure it is today — colorful, some gaps, and every bit as Seussian as the kids’ noodle towers.
Be frustrated. If what you’re learning is worth it, accept that while fighting through isn’t as easy or hypnotic as playing Candy Crush, you will get there.
Memorize terms you don’t understand. Play with baffling technology. Look up knowledge related to what you need to know. Delve into the history, even though no one will ever ask you about it. Talk shop obsessively. That homeless guy may have once worked in Excel — you don’t know until you ask. Every piece of knowledge you accumulate, however small, provides a little more sticky surface for more pieces of knowledge.
One day you’ll realize that you’re hardly ever frustrated. That’s how you’ll know it’s time to start learning something new.
