October 2024

“I’ll just send it, right?”

We were sitting in the computer lab of an adult elementary school. It was already late in the afternoon. Email applications were open on the screens. One of the participants had her hand on the mouse, her cursor hovering over the Send button.

“To whom?” I asked.

“To the principal,” she replied. “Because I won’t be here tomorrow.”

I quickly scanned the message. The subject line read: Absence. Content: I won’t be here tomorrow.

And at the bottom, the signature: Best regards.

There was nothing wrong with it. And yet, something felt incomplete. I asked her if she would send such a message by regular mail—in an envelope.

She looked at me, smiled, and said, “Of course not. It would have to be more formal there.”

And that’s when that moment happened—the one we educators recognize. A quiet click of understanding.

Email isn’t just email.

We used to know how to communicate

Before the digital age, we had clear patterns. A formal letter had a header, a salutation, the body, a closing, and a signature. A phone call had a tone, a voice, and pauses. A face-to-face conversation had facial expressions, eye contact, and body language.

Communication was physical, visible, and audible.

Digital communication, however, is strangely silent. There is no tone of voice on the screen. There is no eye contact. There is no immediate feedback on whether something was understood the way we intended.

And that is why it happens that we write something that is perfectly clear to us—but not to the recipient.

At UPI Žalec, we encounter this every day. Participants returning to education after decades know how to communicate. It is not a question of their general literacy. The question is how this literacy translates into the digital environment.

When the tone is off, more thought is needed

In the DigComp framework, Competence 2.1 is described as the ability to interact appropriately using digital technologies. This does not simply mean the technical use of a tool. It means understanding the context, appropriateness, and audience.

An email is not the same as a text message. A message in an online classroom is not the same as a comment on social media. A job application is not the same as a message to a friend.

This sounds obvious. But it isn’t.

Let’s recall a participant who sent a message to the municipality’s official address with the subject line: Hey. The content was clear and appropriate, but the opening set a tone that didn’t fit the situation. It wasn’t a matter of ignorance. It was a matter of transferring everyday language into a space where different expectations apply.

In the past, these rules were laid out in the etiquette of letter-writing. Today, they are more subtle. But they still exist.

When a Click Becomes a Decision

That evening in the classroom, we reworked the message together. We added a greeting. An explanation. A thank you. We clearly signed our first and last names.

When the participant looked at the message again, she said, “Now it sounds different.”

It wasn’t about nicer words. It was about a sense of responsibility. About the awareness that digital communication leaves a trace. That it’s part of our professional and personal image.

And when she clicked Send, it wasn’t just a technical click. It was a deliberate click.

 

Image: Unsplash

Our Workshop and Mirror

When we were discussing competencies with our colleagues during an internal workshop as part of the DigCompAE project, it quickly became clear that we all use digital communication. Email, online classrooms, registrations, forms, notifications.

But the question wasn’t whether we use it.

The question was whether we use it consciously.

How often do we send a message without reading it over one more time? How often do we use “CC” without thinking about who else is receiving the message? How often do we assume something is understandable just because it’s clear to us?

We used to rewrite letters by hand. A mistake meant a new sheet of paper. Today, we delete a mistake with a single click. The speed is greater. But reflection isn’t always.

And that is precisely where digital competence lies. Not in typing. In reflection.

Participants teach us just as much as we teach them

At UPI Žalec, we have participants from different generations. In our multigenerational center, we observe interesting scenes: an older participant carefully composes an email, while a younger one types quickly, without punctuation or salutations.

The older person may have more respect for form, while the younger one has more confidence in speed. But both need to consider the context.

Digital communication isn’t a matter of age. It’s a matter of awareness.

When Email Becomes a Bridge

That evening, we concluded the session with a question: “What would you like the recipient to think of you when they read your message?”

There was a moment of silence.

This wasn’t a technical question. It was a question of identity.

The digital world is not separate from us. It is not a parallel space. It is an extension of our actions. An email is not just a message. It is a relationship.

And when we understand this, the way we write changes. The tone changes. The responsibility changes. At UPI Žalec, we don’t just teach how to send an email. We teach how to communicate in a space where there are no faces, but the consequences are very real.

And the next time someone asks, “I’ll just send it, right?”

We know the question isn’t technical. It’s human.