What do you know?
I don’t mind if you tell me your favorite places to eat in Chinatown. I’ll even write down your recommendations. (Image by nextvoyage)
It’s up there with those other ugly childhood taunts, like “I know you are, but what am I?” and “Kindergarten baby, stick your head in gravy…"
It’s said with a sneer, emphasis on you. “What do you know?”
The implication being that whatever you could possibly share (right now, whenever, forever) has no value. “Just shut up. No one cares.”
I don’t know why kids (that is to say, people) do this to each other. Why do we endeavor to keep each other small and meek? I guess it has to do with competition and our biologically-driven attempts to prove ourselves worthy of reproduction.
That would all be easy to dismiss if these lessons of childhood weren’t so persistent. Unfortunately, nasty comments from decades ago can still ring in our heads, preventing us from taking action as adults.
As children, we start out eager to share our experiences and relate to others. And then, stung by the message that our perspective is unwelcome, we retreat. Yet we still have that passionate desire to connect, which creates a painful conflict. We’ve been told that one cares, but we are desperate to contribute anyway.
The fact is, your perspective has value and people would be glad to hear it — maybe even the people you shared the playground with in third grade who were all too quick to tell each other to shut up and stop being such a know-it-all. We love hearing about the experiences of others. We watch each other on YouTube, read each other’s innermost secrets on Reddit, and suffer through each other’s humblebrags on Facebook and Instagram. We do care, perhaps in spite of ourselves.
Your stories and insights don’t have to be groundbreaking and original to be appreciated by others. Quite the opposite — we are searching for those who see the world the way we do, who can help us to be less alone and less weird in what we’ve noticed and felt. It’s comforting to nod along with someone who has been where we are, even if they don’t have the solution to our problem. Sometimes, solidarity is solution enough.
You may be awaiting permission to share what you know with the world. The rest of us are too self-absorbed to give it to you, mired as we are in our own self-consciousness and wondering how we can be accepted and admired by the people whose opinion we value. But the world doesn’t really function like the playground — if you’re reading this, chances are you have the freedom to express your ideas without being silenced by those to whom your autonomy and confidence is a threat. You can step forward and share what you think, what you believe, and what you know. And people will care. Not everyone, but the ones who matter — the ones who will see you not as annoying and intrusive, but helpful and generous.
So what do you know? Where do you tell your story? Who is lucky enough to gain from your wisdom and expertise? Don’t let that playground bully, real or imagined, deprive us of you and your brilliance.
