Picture this: You're at the annual family gathering, nursing your third cup of coffee, when Aunt Betty corners you by the dessert table. Her eyes light up with that familiar mixture of curiosity and confusion as she asks, "So, what exactly do you do again? You... make websites?"
If you're anything like us here at Oregon Coast AI, you've probably fumbled through this conversation more times than you can count. How do you explain that you're essentially a digital architect, a problem-solving wizard, and sometimes a digital therapist to stubborn computersâall rolled into one?
Last week, Ken had his own version of this conversation with his grandmother over video call, and it got us thinking: Why is translating what we do so surprisingly difficult? And more importantly, how can we get better at it?
The Fog of Technical Translation
The problem isn't that our family members aren't smart enough to understandâit's that we've been swimming in technical waters for so long, we've forgotten what it feels like to be on dry land. When Ken tried to explain machine learning algorithms to his grandmother, he started with neural networks. When Toni attempted to describe our latest project to her sister, she began with database architecture.
We were like lighthouse keepers trying to explain the beam by starting with the physics of light refraction. We needed to start with why ships need guidance in the first place.
The Coffee Conversation That Changed Everything
Toni's grandmother, armed with her morning coffee and genuine curiosity, asked the question that became our North Star: "But why do you love it so much?"
That's when everything clicked. We weren't just explaining what we doâwe needed to explain why it matters to us. The technical details became secondary to the human story.
Toni's Answer
"Grandma, you know how you used to solve crossword puzzles for hours? How you'd get this satisfied feeling when you finally figured out that one clue that unlocked the whole corner? That's what coding feels like, except instead of filling in words, I'm creating solutions that help people do things they couldn't do before. And sometimes, like when we built that tool for the local food bank, those solutions help our neighbors right here on the coast."
Her response? "Oh! So you're like a puzzle-solving helper who uses computers instead of pencils."
Perfect. Simple. Human.
Lessons from the Shore
Our most successful explanations happen when we stop trying to impress and start trying to connect. Here's what we've learned works:
Listen First
Find out what they're curious about. Are they worried about their privacy online? Frustrated with slow websites? Amazed by their smart TV? Start there.
Use Their Language
If they're a teacher, talk about how you organize information so students can find it. If they're a chef, explain how you write recipes that computers can follow.
Share the Joy
Don't just explain what you doâexplain why it makes you light up inside. Your enthusiasm is contagious, and it's often more important than perfect technical accuracy.
Keep It Real
It's okay to admit when something doesn't work perfectly. Toni's dad was actually more interested in her work when she explained how she spent three days tracking down a bug that turned out to be a missing comma.
The Art of Digital Translation
Here's what we've learned about explaining code to the people who matter most in our lives:
Start with the Story, Not the Code
Instead of: "I'm optimizing database queries for our REST API."
Try: "I'm helping computers find information faster so people don't have to wait as long when they're looking for something online."
Use Familiar Analogies
We've found that coding is a lot like organizing a massive library. You need to know where everything goes, create systems so people can find what they're looking for, and occasionally reorganize when things get messy. Sometimes you even need to teach the library itself how to answer questions.
Focus on the Human Impact
The most powerful explanations connect the technical work to real human experiences. When Toni explained her latest AI project, she didn't mention neural networksâshe talked about helping doctors spot diseases earlier so families have more time together.
A Tide Pool of Wisdom
Remember: You're not dumbing down your workâyou're translating it into the language of human connection. The most sophisticated code in the world means nothing if it doesn't ultimately serve people's lives in some meaningful way.
Our Coastal Metaphor Toolkit
Living here on the Oregon Coast has given us a treasure trove of metaphors that somehow make perfect sense when explaining our work:
Debugging = Beachcombing
You're searching through miles of sand and kelp, looking for that one beautiful agate among thousands of ordinary rocks. Sometimes you find treasure, sometimes you find interesting driftwood, and sometimes you just find more sand.
APIs = Tide Pools
Different ecosystems that need to connect and share resources. Each one has its own inhabitants and rules, but they all depend on the ocean (the internet) to bring them what they need.
Version Control = Lighthouse Logs
Every change is carefully documented so future lighthouse keepers know what happened, when, and why. If something goes wrong, you can always look back and figure out where the fog rolled in.
Code Reviews = Storm Watching
Sometimes you need another set of eyes to spot the dangerous waves coming in. Your coding partner might see the rocks you missed in the excitement of building something new.
The Big Picture
At the end of the day, we're not just codersâwe're problem solvers, bridge builders, and digital storytellers. We take human needs and translate them into language that computers can understand, then take computer capabilities and translate them back into human benefits.
We're like interpreters at the intersection of human dreams and digital possibilities. And sometimes, just sometimes, we get to help those dreams become reality.
The Real Magic
The real magic isn't in the code we writeâit's in the connections we help create. Between businesses and their customers, between problems and their solutions, between what is and what could be. And yes, sometimes between grandparents and grandchildren who suddenly understand each other a little better over coffee.
So the next time someone asks you what you do, try this: Take a deep breath, set aside the technical jargon, and tell them about the last time your code helped someone do something they couldn't do before. Tell them about the satisfaction of solving a puzzle that's been bugging you for days. Tell them about the joy of building something new.
Tell them you're a translator between human needs and digital solutions. Tell them you're a problem-solving helper who uses computers instead of pencils.
And if they still look confused? That's okay too. Pour them another cup of coffee and ask about their day. Sometimes the best conversations happen when we stop trying to explain ourselves and start trying to understand each other.