Blinded by Knowledge—the Lack Thereof

Whither or wither our common heritage?  I often ask myself that question  when listening to news shows on television or even talking to friends.  Where are the depths that used to be plumbed?  In other words, what the hell were you doing in school all those years when you come out without a basic familiarity with our common culture?

Going to high school in Nyack, New York, I will admit to not having a rigorous education.  In fact, there was only one class I remember that imparted knowledge and that was history of the world with Miss Newton.  The rest fell by the wayside, including three years of Latin and two years of French—which I would desperately need to get my Master’s.  (The test was obviously very easy if I could pass.)

But what I did have was access to the school and the public library, and, maybe most important, the snobbery of my mother.  Yes, she did push me into Latin, something that can’t be forgiven easily.  But she also imparted that no one can be truly educated unless they knew both the Bible—King James’ version, please!—and Shakespeare.  So I acquainted myself with both.  I have read every single page of the Bible, old and new.  As far as Shakespeare, let’s say there are a few plays I missed; and I have trouble distinguishing between “Twelfth Night” and “As You Like It.”  But the knowledge is there and can occasionally be withdrawn from my data bank.

In college I spent two years fulfilling course requirements in large lecture halls.  Did I enjoy it?  No.  But it gave me a basic understanding of various academic fields, so that I could further my interests and at least keep up with basic developments in subjects of which I had no innate ability to understand.

I like to think I’m typical of my generation, cursive writers, learning basic economics in high school, like writing a check and following the stock market.  In other words, being an educated and committed citizen.  I tended to believe everyone was schooled in the same basics.  However—

Having children drove me to—well, drink, but—the need to get out of the house and have a life of my own.  Since I was living in a university town, I decided to take classes.  My first course was with a political science professor.   I still remember her name which I shall not give because I was shocked when she gave a lecture on the spring awakenings of various Eastern Block countries and failed to mention one salient fact.  As she focused on Czechoslovakia and its failed efforts to separate from Soviet control, I listened to her spiel and realized she had left out one of the most important factors, that the United States had encouraged the Czech people.  And then stood by, doing nothing to help.  I approached her after class and mentioned the omission.  She just blew me off.  It wasn’t in her notes.

People, you can’t pick and choose historic facts to make your own point.  But now isn’t this what everyone is doing, no matter the issue?  Is it a surprise we can’t talk to one another because we don’t even agree on the basics.  Nor do we take time to educate ourselves on a subject before spouting off because we know what we know.

Unfortunately, we don’t know what we know.  And we don’t know enough to even know what we don’t know.  This ignorance brings ill-informed views which are expressed in the loudest venue possible.  Can we not try to remember the Biblical phrase “a still small voice?”  If God can talk quietly, why can’t we?  Talking quietly means we can hear other people.  They actually might have something important and interesting to say.

Fellow readers, knowledge is out there for the taking.  It’s harder to find but well worth the effort to save our souls and our nations.