Not Knowing

At the desk where I scan my ID at the YMCA, there is a little sign that always has a question.  It is usually something silly like, "Do you eat or drink soup?" or "What's the most embarrassing thing you ever let someone talk you into doing?"  So while I am heading down the steps to my class, I decide mentally that if you use a spoon, you are eating and drinking if you aren't.  

A few days ago, the question was, "What is something you miss from childhood?"  I'm sure the intent was that I arrive in the locker room with a thought like, "Hungry Hungry Hippos was a great game."  But my mind went somewhere else.  I thought, "I miss not knowing . . ." and then realized that was the complete thought.  There is something joyful in childhood that comes from the things I did not know.  I'll address why it is important that I now know them at the end, but first, here are some things I miss not knowing.

I miss not knowing about discrimination.  When I was a child, I did not know people were unable to do what they wanted because people thought they shouldn't be allowed to (you know, other than their parents).  No one had ever told me girls couldn't be scientists, so I didn't know that other girls were being told that.  While I saw stories about racism on television, and my mom told me about some awful things her family members had said when she was young, I had no personal experience with it myself.

When I was young, I had no concept of losing people to preventable diseases.  I attended many funerals, but most of them were people who had lived long lives.  In fifth grade, my friend's five-month-old nephew died, but that was a bizarre occurrence in my life.  I had no idea that young children around the world died as a result of malaria and the flu because I lived in a world that prevented those things. I miss being unaware of just how much grief there is in the world. 

When guns were discussed in my childhood, it was usually in the context of hunting (or some newsworthy incident in Fayetteville or Durham - which felt far away).  I never considered that a gun might harm me.  I certainly didn't have to do active shooter drills at school.  I remember a time in high school when we had to evacuate the school during an exam because someone had "called in a bomb threat," but my emotion was annoyance, not fear.  We didn't believe it was real, and I was just irritated that my flow of thought had been interrupted and that I might earn a worse grade as a result.  Not one of us in that parking lot believed there was actually a bomb, and neither did the school personnel because after they had looked around the building for twenty minutes, we went back inside and finished our exams with no thought of trauma.  I miss not knowing that anyone can be shot anywhere.

I am so grateful that social media did not exist when I was young. I'm aware of the irony that you probably linked to this post from Facebook or Twitter, but I am so happy that I was not exposed to every thought of hundreds of people twenty-four hours a day.  I am so grateful that the only comparison I had to make was with my small circle of friends.  Social media gives adults the immaturity of 7th graders and exposes 7th graders to issues they shouldn't have to live with until they are adults.  And AI scares me to the point where I wish I was born a few decades earlier.  I miss not knowing the influence these things would have on our culture.

These were the big things I could think of, but there are a thousand small things that could be listed here as well.  I didn't know that the friends I had in kindergarten wouldn't remain my friends for my entire life.  I didn't know that bills had to match income.  I did not know how much laundry and dishes there would be to do.  I knew only the part of the world my brain was ready for, and I am grateful that I didn't have to know more.  However, it would be inappropriate for me to still be unaware of those things at 47.  While I may miss the blissful innocence of unawareness, that is only meant for childhood.  If an adult remains unaware of the things I have mentioned above, they are living out of touch with reality and unable to address the issues of the world.

This weekend was GRACE's graduation, and that always gets me thinking about my own.  I don't remember my graduation speaker, but I do remember the speech at my baccalaureate.  A local pastor who had previously been a magician showed us a card trick and then explained how it was done.  He then spoke to us about disillusionment - that living under an illusion might be easier or more fun, but it is always better to know the truth.  If you live without knowledge of discrimination, you will not treat your fellow image-bearers with sensitivity and love when they experience it or tell you about their experience.  If you are illusioned about the preventable diseases in the world, you won't feel the need to donate to organizations that save lives.  We need to know.

The only way to help is to know.  So while I may miss not knowing, it wouldn't be right for me to return to a state of not knowing.