I can’t say that I know where this comes from or how this begins. But who is it? Who has the right to say who knows better or who knows best? Is age always the reason why someone knows best?
I can understand the difference in education. I can understand why a doctor would know more about the body or how a mechanic can troubleshoot the problems underneath the hood of a car.
At the same time, there is the odd hierarchy in the world, as if to say who knows more or who knows best. Yet, there are times when I swear – nobody really knows anything.
I can recall my early days in sobriety. I was young. More to the point, I was only a kid which meant that my version or my view on life was limited to my youth. I was limited by my thoughts and limited by the beliefs. Hence, I swore that what I thought was always accurate or true which it wasn’t, at least not always.
I can see how (or why) this is age-appropriate, and at the same time, this is how life is.
We all think “We know.”
But what do we really know?
There was a weeknight A.A. meeting which I usually attended with some of the other young people in the group. On occasion, there would be someone who chose to grandstand or take some kind of “all-knowing” position and preach to us, as if we were too young or too naive or even too stupid to see how lucky or fortunate we were.
I remember being told that I didn’t know anything.
I was just a kid.
I was told by some of the older members that I had no idea how lucky I was.
Maybe I did know how lucky I was.
Perhaps, it was the fact that I was not in jail or dead or strung out anymore that allowed me to understand that yes, I was fortunate.
However, I disagree with the usage of the word “luck.”
I was told that I was lucky to have found sobriety at a young age.
Really?
I wouldn’t assign the word luck to my younger or early struggles. I certainly would not associate the word luck with my depression. So no, it was not luck that kept me clean and sober or out of jail or away from the methadone lines. It was not luck that kept the needle out of my veins or the bottle away from my lips.
Luck did not bring about my efforts.
No, this was something that I did for myself.
Young or not, at least I know enough to do this.
I recall thinking about this while an older gentleman went off on a tirade about us so-called “young punks” in the meetings and how we were unaware of how lucky we were.
I recall this man telling us how we didn’t know what we were doing.
What do any of your know? You’re all just a bunch of fucking kids.
Next, it was my turn to share.
I might not have known what I was doing. And I might not know what I’m doing now either.
I might not have had an understanding or a solid grip on life or life’s terms. And yes, I can see how my youth was stuck in different levels of unawareness. Sure, I know that I had a lot to learn. But who doesn’t?
However, I also knew that whether I was “lucky” or not, I was able to find my way into sobriety and stay there at a young age.
I also knew that as far as “time” was concerned, I had more time in the rooms than this man who (for some reason) saw himself as some kind of authority.
I was clean for more than a year at the time. As for the man who took to his soap box, this man was what’s called a “chronic relapser” which meant that he would acquire some clean time and then find his soap box to stand upon and preach.
But inevitably, and often eventually, he would find himself back on the barstool or back with a little batch of cocaine and back in the saddle, once more, with a new series of legal problems or some other kind of unfortunate downfall.
I shared my point which was this:
I don’t know much. That’s true.
But I do know that I was smart and brave enough to stay in these rooms after my time in treatment. I also know that I was smart enough and brave enough to do this 20 years before anyone here . . .
So, it would be inaccurate to suggest that I don’t know anything because I am young.
I know plenty.
Of course, I’m sure this is not a word-for-word quote. However, I can say that for some reason, there is this odd sense of “know-it-all-ness” where people assume that who they are or how they’ve lived or what they’ve experienced can, will or does trump what others might think, see or feel.
I have known people who have survived cancer treatment – who say, “But what do I know? I only survived cancer . . .”
I remember the first time I spoke in a jail, Rikers Island.
I was told that I had no idea of what I was talking about.
I was told this by a man who was doing time in jail.
I replied the following:
I might not know much. But I do know that I am going home after this meeting.
Then I asked, “Where are you going?”
I advised, “Back to your cell, right?”
So – I offered “I might not know much, but please tell me how you know more than I do.”
The man chose to back down and stayed quiet.
It has taken me years to learn that no one can or has the right to monopolize life or the right to think, see, feel or believe.
There is no one-size-fits-all answer when it comes to life.
No two moments or challenges are identically the same.
Differences are allowed.
No one is more right than the next person, which is not to say that there is no basics when it comes to the right or wrongs in life or that there is no commonness of common decency or common sense. Both should still exist, but it is necessary to say that I’m not always too sure how common anything is these days.
I know that even teachers need to be teachable. I know that a smart person knows what they do not know and that yes, pride comes before the fall.
Pride and know-it-all-ness can lead to some painful lessons.
I know that that person who stood up at an A.A. meeting and told us “Young punks” that we had no idea what we were doing (or talking about) was nothing more than a man who was seething with his own resentment. I know that his tirade was nothing other than a projection of himself.
No one has the right to corner the market when it comes to matters of the heart. No one has the right to say who is right or wrong when it comes to the way we think or feel.
Furthermore –
It has come to my attention that opinions create a division between people.
“What do you know? You’re just a kid!”
My answer to this was “What the hell do you know? You’re old.”
Then I would say, “It’s been a long time since you were a kid!”
None of this is helpful.
Degrading someone’s understanding or knowledge simply because of age does nothing more than cause a greater division between us.
Who does this hurt?
Well, this hurts the father who fails to reach his son.
This hurts the daughter who cannot speak with her mother.
This causes the communication gap to spread between guidance counselors and students.
Communication is the key to harmony.
Yet, we trip over our own biases and assumptions.
So, how can we improve?
We have to stop this.
By the way, do you know what I was told when I was a kid?
I was told that I would be lucky to get a job pumping gas or driving a truck somewhere. I was told this by a teacher. I was told this by a guidance counselor too.
I can remember being told this yet this was before I learned that teachers were in school for so many years and they hardly made any money – or (this is the funny part) truck drivers make more money than teachers do . . .
I think I’ll take the driver’s seat then.
I am not sure if the divide between us as people is due to intellectual or social or economical snobbery. I don’t know if this is because we allow people to take some kind of authoritative role in this world because of who we assume they are or where they come from.
But as for being a kid, I have learned more from kids than any of the adults who tried to teach me how to live my life.
I can say that I have stood up to do presentations in junior and senior high classrooms and had long, detailed and brilliant conversations with young people.
Sure, what do they know – they were all just kids, right?
They knew enough to understand that respect is reciprocal and that respect influences conversation – thus, conversation closes the communication gap which allows us to talk to each other and create a better understanding.
On a personal note:
One of the best text messages I have ever received was from a young man who sent me a picture of him and his prom date before they went to their senior prom.
He said he knew that I never had the chance to go to mine.
So, he wanted to share something of his – just so I knew that something I said created inspiration.
What a great lesson this young man taught me.
Listen. Hear.
Respect. Engage.
This is what creates connection.
I love it.
The Written Addiction 