Knowing Enough

At the beginning of this semester, I covered a humanities class for a colleague who was out on medical leave. One of the icebreakers she assigned was a list of questions, and the purpose was to find people who know the answers. Since the class was fairly small, and the icebreaker is supposed to get students to meet many people, I told the students that I’d be happy to sign for one answer.

The students started circulating, and I answered a few different questions. One student walked up, with my colleague’s list in hand, and asked if I could answer any questions she hadn’t filled yet. Looking at her list, I saw that I could answer any of the questions, but I wanted to be a little cagier, perhaps to make a point about assumptions, as I had in my writing course. So I said “Yes, I can answer some. What question do you think I can answer?"

“I think you know the name of Alexander the Great’s tutor” was her reply.

Noting some conviction in her voice, I said “Yes, I do — why did you think so?”

Her reply? “Because you’re the teacher. You just know these things.”

I was rather humbled by her faith in teachers — and at the same time, I was glad I didn’t let her down. It got me wondering, though, just how much we’re expected to know, especially in the humanities. I chose my discipline, and my period, in part because they are hard — there’s nothing that can’t help illuminate readings, so everything is fair for academic consideration. But I also wonder when we’re (theoretically) ready to teach. When do we know enough to step in front of a classroom? I don’t think there’s a good answer, or a right answer, in terms of quantity of knowledge. I think the best answer is individual — you know enough when you feel comfortable, when you feel competent, to teach that subject, be it composition, introduction to literature, or something more specific. I look forward to hearing your thoughts!