See One, Do One, Teach One

I thought medical school was the most intense learning period of my life, but that was before I began homesteading. The knowledge it takes to grow food and care for the land and animals certainly rivals that which is required to become a doctor. Unfortunately, I began learning homesteading skills with an older brain than when in school, but in either situation the phrase, See one, do one, teach one, has served me well.

We’ve all been told that making mistakes is part of continual learning. Well, my subconscious must believe that if I’m to judge by the number of mistakes I’ve made. I do regret turning off all the valves under the windmill and breaking the windmill shaft. I recently learned that not removing the placenta after a cow’s birth resulted in her aspirating it, which resulted in pneumonia. I believe the phrase is, “Wish I knew then what I know now.” But the better way would have been to have a mentor explain these things beforehand. Or to have me bright enough to ask about those things beforehand.

That’s where see one, do one, teach one becomes helpful in avoiding mistakes. I’ve become immune to the mistakes that only damage my pride, but similar to when I never wanted to hurt a patient, I now don’t want to hurt an animal or break equipment.

When we are intent on learning, being able to “see one” gets our full attention. If we then can do the same task under close supervision, we’ll better remember how to do it the next time. If the next time is when we have someone by our side who is learning, we will reinforce our own learning so that it becomes part of our permanent memory. That’s just as true when helping the delivery of a human baby or reviving an exhausted calf. Books and YouTubes are helpful, but there’s nothing like on-the- job-training.

After decades on our farm, my husband and I are still learning more about the orchard, bees, soil, crops, pasture, cows, chickens and turkeys. The animals and garden also require the know-how for growing hay, nutrient-dense food, butchering, processing and preserving. No wonder this rivals medical school for our need to know.

I enjoy sharing and teaching, so therefore I thought I’d be good at it. Unfortunately, I discovered that I often fell short of my

intent. When I felt we had “mastered” most of our homesteading skills, I invited interns to the farm for the summer. I wanted to teach them everything from starting and tending plants to harvesting, cooking and preserving their produce. That’s when I learned that being a teacher is tricky. Beginners in any field may hesitate to ask questions that seem “stupid” or they may hesitate to ask something they thought they should already know. Kari, one of my favorite interns, was different. She used “sign language” to indicate when she had no idea what I was talking about. One time, after gathering vegetables from the garden, we stood around the kitchen counter preparing a stir-fry. When I asked her to cut the vegetables to the size we would need, Kari simply gave a clap of her hands before extending them out palms up accompanied by a puzzled look. She was right. First we need to “see one” before we can “do one!”

What I showed Kari that day was what my dear brother-in-law, a chef, had shown me. “Big Jim” would kindly offer a suggestion as he passed through the kitchen. What he shared has become important in my otherwise limited kitchen know-how. Now that he has died, I realize what any of us offer in our lifetimes may ripple out to others long we have gone.

I’m finding that I still take too much for granted when I attempt to pass on skills. My wonderful niece, now 22 years-old, spent a decade of summers with us beginning with her pre-teen years. She was competent, enthused and a fast learner who began with decorating egg cartons and collecting the egg money. Her interests gradually increased to cheese-making, gardening, some cooking and preserving food. When she came for a visit last spring before camping with her friend, I gave them a quart of peaches to eat with their meals. She later returned it unopened because they didn’t know how to open the lid without “breaking the canning jar.” She knew how to grow, cook and preserve food, but I had sent the poor girl back to the city before winter when we ate the preserved food! It’s the simplest things sometimes that become unnecessary obstacles.

Sometimes, I get enthused and don’t take into account what can be absorbed by children. They certainly have the intelligence and often the attention to learn, but of course not the vocabulary that took me years to acquire. For example, I was pretty enthused to explain how bees are important for pollination to a young neighbor as we knelt by the buckwheat watching bees. He finally turned his large and alarmed eyes to me and said, “It’s not nice to throw trash around!” There was a long pause before I realized that he understood “pollute” but not “pollinate.” Of course, that still makes me chuckle.

Occasionally, it’s better to teach by just doing rather than talking. The power of “seeing one” was brought home to me when I watched our eleven-year-old granddaughter in the kitchen. She doesn’t work “solo” in the kitchen at home, but I’m quite fascinated watching her skills when she’s unleashed in our kitchen. To her grandma, she is amazingly competent at chopping, grating, mixing and cooking. The cleaning-up part must be the toughest because she hasn’t quite mastered that yet! However, by just watching her mother at home, she’s become quite the cook. “Seeing one,” is so important.

I admit that I have the most trouble with putting my own agenda aside when someone stops by to ask for help. Yes—I want others to do that for me, but it is sure inconvenient for my Type-A personality who is on a schedule! In truth, I inevitably find it an enjoyable experience to share with others who want to learn. It’s not only energizing for me, but I usually learn something in return that I hadn’t questioned before.

Teaching others may sound very altruistic, but there’s a whole lot in it for us. Learning one new thing a day is supposed to be good for our brains. And it’s fun. The one new thing may be putting together a new recipe, identifying an unknown insect or figuring out how to use a new tool. It could even be learning a new vocabulary word—like pollinate! And teaching gives us connections to others which we humans require for a meaningful life. I believe that See one, do one, teach one, is an important key to a happier life for ourselves and others.