You Don’t Know Everything

** As graduation time approaches, I’d like to re-share a speech I gave at my own graduation ceremony. **

Peeling Labels off Soup Cans

I used to think no one could see me when I hid under the kitchen table to peel labels off of soup cans. Of course I know better now. (Now I lock myself in the bathroom to do that.) Just kidding. My point is that I know more now than I did when I was younger. But although I may be a study rat, I still don’t know everything. And no matter what kind of education system you have gone through, you don’t know it all either. Does that mean our teachers failed at their jobs? Aren’t they supposed to teach us everything we need to know?

I think the answer is no. I don’t think we can ever be taught everything. In fact, when I was growing up, my grandpa used to tell me, “Just don’t think you know everything.” I would say, “Okay,” thinking I just wasn’t old enough yet. I didn’t know much back then. I didn’t know how to dunk without plugging my nose. I didn’t know how to ride a bike. I knew about the tooth fairy, but I never knew why she left more money for my friends’ teeth than mine.

Of course as I grew older, I found out why, along with many other things, like the dedication and commitment to school work that it takes to achieve the status of “study rat.” After awhile, I knew more than I had ever known in my life. I knew there was a place called “llanfarpwyllgwyngyllgogericwinwindrobwillllantysiliogogogogoch, although I had never been there. I found out that eating a whole bag of jellybeans before supper would ruin my appetite. I even learned what the numbers 0 to 9 looked like in Arabic. I was definitely knowledgeable. But still, my grandpa would tell me, “Just don’t think you know everything.” And I would say, “I don’t!” but wonder when I would be able to know it all, because I was learning more all the time.

It finally dawned on me that it wasn’t that my grandpa wanted me to stop learning; he was just trying to get me to realize that it is literally impossible to know everything. Life always has more to teach you, if you’ll let it.

So to you teachers and parents, thanks for trying. You’ve done all you can; but I’m sorry–there is no way you’ll ever be able to teach me everything. And I’ll have to learn most of it by myself.

To you [readers], I want to say, as my grandpa used to tell me, “Just don’t think you know everything.” And I want you to say, as I once did, “Okay,” because obviously you never could know all there is to know. And if you are ever tempted to think that you do, then tell me why I used to sit under the kitchen table and peel labels off of soup cans. Thanks.