My Mother Still Thinks I Fix Computers for a Living

I’ve been working in my field for over 20 years.

I’ve deployed AI systems for IBM, Amazon, Ernst & Young, and Fortune 500 companies. I’ve built teams and capabilities that have transformed how organizations work.

And my mother still thinks I fix computers for a living.

Here’s what I find interesting about this.

I don’t work in a field that existed when my mother was building her career.

The work I do didn’t have a name 30 years ago. There was no job description. No career path. No way to explain it at family dinners.

And honestly? Most people still don’t know what to make of it.

But here’s what I’ve learned: If people can’t understand what you do, it’s hard for them to understand your value.

I see this everywhere now.

And when someone asks, “So, what do you do?” The explanation becomes complicated fast.

You work in data strategy, digital transformation, customer experience design, and creator economy platforms.

These aren’t just job titles. They’re entire universes of expertise that require context most people don’t have.

Over the years, I’ve had to get better at this. Not just with my mother, but with executives, board members, and people who need to understand what I do in order to work with me effectively.

Back in 2018, I was working with MIT on something that solved this problem.

I tested my AI definition against my mother. And she understood it.

If my mother could grasp the concept, I knew anyone could.

Here’s what works:

Instead of “I work in artificial intelligence,” try “I help companies make better decisions using their data.”

Instead of “I’m a digital transformation consultant,” try “I help organizations update how they work so they can keep up with how fast the world is changing.”

People understand problems. They understand outcomes. The technical details can come later.

I learned to explain complex concepts using things people already understand. The five senses. Everyday objects. Common experiences.

When I tested my explanations against my mother, someone with no background in technology, and she understood them, I knew I was on the right track.

And that’s okay.

Your mother might never completely understand your work. Your uncle at Thanksgiving might keep asking the same questions every year.

But what matters is whether the people you work with, the people who need to make decisions based on your expertise, can understand enough to engage meaningfully.

As these fields evolve, the gap between what we do and what people understand keeps growing.

But here’s the thing: Your expertise only matters if you can communicate it.

You can be the best in the world at what you do. But if you can’t explain your value in terms people understand, you’ll struggle to get the support, resources, and opportunities you deserve.

Learning to translate your expertise into a language anyone can grasp? That’s not just a nice skill to have.

It’s becoming essential.

Here’s my question: Do the people in your life understand what you do? How do you explain it?

I’d love to hear how you’re bridging this gap. Share your approach in the comments below.

Until next time,

Sol