What You Know and What You Don't

My fifth grade English teacher once told me, “you should write about what you know.” When I got to my Sophomore year of college, my Philosophy professor quoted Socrates stating, “a wise man knows he knows nothing.” While these two statements appear confusing, they actually make perfect sense in my mind. What these wise mentors meant to say was, “Know your shit.” The power of knowledge is hindered by ignorance and assumption. I recall a time when lesson this hit me the hardest.

Freshman year of college, I was sitting in a religious studies class debating the implications of the death penalty, premarital sex, and other concerns of the Church. I, a bold and audacious student, spoke feverishly of the power of generosity in regards to the topic of poverty. I said, “I feel like those with the ability to alter society for the better have an unspoken duty to usher in that change. Wealthy people are privileged enough to carry that responsibility.” Another student looked at me harshly, gazing at my Coach tote bag and BCBG jacket. She responded, “and what would you know about that?” I angrily responded, “and who are you to judge me?” She stood up and read me the riot act shortly after. Her uncle in prison, her mother raising her alone, etc.

She continued to make comments about me, assuming that I was brought up with a silver spoon in my mouth. I tried to defend myself but she continued on. I finally stood up and yelled, “Do attacks on my life have anything to do with the original question?!” The most gregarious and belligerent student in the class then spoke. He said, “In the end, what she means is… if you.. a person like you… saw someone on the street begging for your last dollar, would you give it to them?” I was taken back by this immediately. I took a breath, and I could feel all the eyes in the room looking, waiting for an answer. I fought the tears back in my own eyes and said, “It’s funny that you ask that because I took a trip to Boston this past weekend. The Sunday I’m supposed to go home to New Jersey, I went to church. The reading in the Gospel that day was about Jesus recognizing a widower who gave her last bit of money to the donation box at the temple. Jesus said to his disciples, "that woman gave the most of anyone that day." After I heard that passage, I looked into my bag and saw what little money I had left from a weekend in Boston. I left church that day and went back to New Jersey without a penny.” The entire class went silent, the obnoxious girl and boy who attacked me no more than a minute ago were flabbergasted. This was the only time in my life I ever walked out in the middle of class.

Since that day, I try not to assume anything of people or pass judgment too quickly. Last year at my current college, I was again faced with this issue. This taught me that people will always “think they know.” Don’t give them that opportunity and at the same time don’t allow yourself to become one of them. Be humble. Know that you do not know everything and that it’s okay.