[Written with the help of ChatGPT - I just love surfing data tsunamis on a keyboard of love and joy.]
For more than four decades I worked to help people from every background cross the digital divide. Today that divide still exists—sometimes in new and unexpected forms. I got my first typewriter as a Christmas present in 1958 from my parents. The first time I touched a computer was in 1970 at the University of Connecticut when I was a freshman there and the internet was only available to the military and colleges. I spent a dozen years in broadcasting in NYC, mostly on computers / word processors.
Beginning in 1984, long before YouTube, social media, or even widespread internet access, I trained people to use computers. Over the years I helped more than 3,000 people learn the skills they needed to participate in a world that was rapidly becoming digital.
For many of them, learning to use a computer opened doors to employment, communication, education, and opportunity. Watching people gain that confidence and independence was some of the most meaningful work of my life.
Decades later, I am still engaged with the digital world. Today I write a blog, run a YouTube channel, and continue advocating for the issues I care about. Recently I decided to take the next step: building an online community where conversations could happen in one place.
After watching Youtube videos, something I still marvel at, remembering when video meant brown magnetic tape. Reading about the platform Skool and studying materials about building communities online, I signed up and began setting up a group. The idea seemed simple: create a space where people interested in my work could gather, discuss ideas, and collaborate.
But I quickly encountered something unexpected.
When creating a community on the platform, the instructions say to “invite three people.” I did exactly that. I sent invitations and expected that once the invitations were sent, I would be able to open the community.
Instead, the system continued to block publishing.
Only after contacting support did I learn that the real requirement was not simply inviting people, but having three people fully join the community before the platform allows it to be published.
The difference between those two instructions—“invite three people” and “three people must join”—may seem small, but in practice it creates a significant barrier.
For someone who has spent decades helping people navigate technology, the experience was striking. It reminded me that the digital divide has not disappeared; it has simply changed form.
In the past, the divide was about access to computers. Today it is often about understanding systems, interfaces, and rules that are not always clearly explained.
When instructions are ambiguous, people can find themselves blocked by software even when they are trying to follow the rules exactly as written.
This experience doesn’t erase the progress technology has made, but it does highlight an important lesson for anyone designing digital platforms: clarity matters. Small wording choices can determine whether someone feels welcomed into a system or locked out of it.
After four decades of helping people cross the digital divide, I find myself once again navigating it—this time from the other side.
Perhaps that is simply the nature of technology: it keeps moving, and we must keep learning how to move with it.
But it is also a reminder that the goal of technology should always be the same one many of us have been working toward for decades: making the digital world more accessible, understandable, and human.
I’m sharing this experience not to criticize any particular platform, but to highlight how small design choices can unintentionally create barriers. If someone from Skool happens to read this, I hope you’ll consider how a simple clarification—changing “invite three people” to “three people must join your community before publishing”—could prevent confusion for many new users. Platforms that help people build communities play an important role in today’s digital world, and clear, human-centered communication makes that mission stronger. I would welcome the opportunity to resolve this situation and continue building a constructive community around the work I care about.
This experience raises a broader question for the technology industry. As more civic life, organizing, and community building move onto digital platforms, the design of those platforms increasingly determines who can participate. Small interface decisions—like unclear instructions or automated gates—can unintentionally exclude the very people who have spent decades working to expand access. If the goal of technology is to empower communities, then usability and clarity are not minor details; they are part of digital equity itself.
Any ideas for generating change at this corporate level, please post your ideas below.
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#DigitalRights
