When we first heard that confident click

December 2025

“Wait… I think I know what’s wrong.”

That’s what Robert said in the middle of class when the projector suddenly stopped displaying the image from his computer. A few months earlier, he would have slumped back in his chair and said, “I’ve broken something again.” But this time, there was no panic.

He looked at the cable. He checked the connection. He clicked on the display settings. He selected the screen mirroring option.

His presentation reappeared on the wall.

A soft sound was heard, almost imperceptible—a mouse click. But in that click was more than just a technical solution. It was confidence.

He didn’t look at me to check if he’d done the right thing. He didn’t wait for confirmation. He diagnosed the problem himself and fixed it.

It wasn’t a spectacular achievement. But it was a turning point.

In the past, a malfunction was a reason to give up

When something stopped working, we looked for someone who “knew what to do.” A mechanic, an electrician, an expert. Devices were complicated, their insides inaccessible.

Digital devices seem even more complicated. Screens, menus, settings, warnings. When an error occurs, a sense of guilt quickly follows.

• “I broke something”
• “This isn’t for me”
• “I’d rather not try again”

At UPI Žalec, we recognized this attitude as one of the biggest obstacles to the development of digital competencies. Not a lack of knowledge, but a fear of making a mistake.

DigComp Competency 5.1—troubleshooting—is not just the ability to click the right setting. It is an attitude toward the problem. It is a willingness to see a mistake as part of the process, not as proof of incompetence.

From Panic to Exploration

I remember the first lesson when Mr. Robert tried to open a document and an error message popped up. He stopped, took his hands off the mouse, and said, “That’s it. I don’t know how to do this.”

Instead of jumping in right away, I asked him, “What do you think this message means?”

He read it again. He realized the program needed an update. Together, we checked the options. He clicked “Update.”

That day, it didn’t matter that he opened the document. What mattered was that he paused and thought.

Solving technical problems starts with a question, not with giving up.

Technology as a System, Not as Magic

Sometimes we perceive technology as something almost magical. It works—or it doesn’t. If it doesn’t work, it’s a mystery.

But digital systems follow logic. Errors have causes. Connections have paths. Settings have options.

When participants begin to understand the basic logic—that they need to check the connection, restart the program, read the notification—their attitude changes.

The problem is no longer personal. It is technical.

And technical problems have solutions.

Reflection within UPI Žalec

As educators, we had to learn to curb our own urge to solve problems quickly. It’s faster if we fix the problem ourselves. But if we do this too often, we take away the participants’ opportunity to learn.

The project encouraged us to adopt a more mindful approach. When a problem arises, we first ask: “What have you already tried?”

By doing so, we convey that we believe in their ability to think for themselves.

Digital confidence does not grow from a system that works perfectly, but from the experience of being able to respond when something isn’t working.

A Click That Is No Longer Hesitant

On the day Mr. Robert solved the projector problem on his own, it wasn’t a technically demanding task. It was a matter of attitude.

The click was no longer cautious and quiet. It was decisive.

Solving technical problems doesn’t mean we’ll always find the solution on our own. It means we allow ourselves to try.

And once a person experiences that they can analyze and resolve a problem, something shifts within them. Technology is no longer an unpredictable adversary. It becomes a system with which they can collaborate.

Perhaps that is precisely why that confident click wasn’t loud. But it was a clear sign of change.