by Michele Martin, Librarian and Director of Information Science 

Two years ago, I attended the Sonoma Valley Author Festival, where I had the privilege of hearing from writers who had published books on a range of topics. While listening to an expert in the field of history and political science, I started reflecting on the fact that my knowledge in these areas was sadly lacking. And when I say “reflecting,” what I was actually doing was thinking, “Wow, I’m really dumb. I should know this stuff. Why don’t I know this stuff?”

The reason I didn’t know that stuff is because, like most people, I like to be comfortable. I have always had an innate sense that there were certain things I’m just not good at, or certain things I just don’t understand, even though I’d never actually attempted to learn those things. In high school, as soon as I could start choosing electives, I leaned towards things I already felt comfortable with, things I knew I liked and would be pretty good at: subjects like psychology and literature. I continued in this vein through college. And graduate school. And in life. I would see headlines about topics related to politics and world events, and my eyes would glaze over, and I’d just skim past. I’d already decided I probably wouldn’t understand articles that talked about, say, the intricacies and implications of federal tax code, so why bother? When certain topics would come up in conversation with peers and friends, I would speak in generalities, afraid to ask questions or let on that I actually had zero idea what I was talking about.

I feel the need to point out that I’m not completely ignorant. I watch the news. I read. I read a LOT. But I have always learned best in a classroom environment, where I can ask questions and learn from others through discussion and exchange of ideas.

So as I sat there, listening to this smart man, feeling stupid, I thought to myself, “Should I go back to school? Again? Where would I even start?” I quickly dismissed the idea and forgot all about it.

Until the following year, when once again I found myself at the Sonoma Valley Author Festival, listening to an expert on economics and international relations, and thinking, “Wow, I’m still really dumb. Should I go back to school?”

This time, I decided I needed to take action. In a world where it’s more crucial than ever to understand what’s going on, and to participate fully in discussions and engage with the democratic process in a more informed manner, it was simply inexcusable for me to continue being lazy. I had to make an effort to learn about the things I’d been avoiding.

And then I had a genius idea! Why even think about going back to college when we have expertise right here at SA? Before I could change my mind, I approached Marco and asked if he would be willing to let me audit one of his courses. I was thinking of either Economics or International Relations, the two Humanities classes at SA that intimidated me the most. I had a whole speech ready to convince Marco, but I didn’t have to deliver it because he immediately said, “Yeah, yeah, do it, that’ll be a blast.” Next I went to Ellie with this proposal, and she and Janet agreed to let me take time from my day to sit in on the fall session of AS Economics. 

Marco didn’t explain to his other students why I was there. I just showed up, sat down, and started learning. Yes, I do the work. I do the reading, and I write the essays, and I try really, really hard not to be that person who always has her hand up to ask yet another question. (I am totally that person.)

And one of the first things I learned was that I really enjoy learning about economics! It wasn’t as scary as I thought it was. It had been scary because I didn’t know the subject. The more I learned, the less scary it got. I still don’t always understand every concept clearly, and sometimes I have to work really hard to grasp something, but I enjoy doing that work. I am that annoying student who goes home and bores her family and friends with random factoids about what I learned in school today. Not only do I now read articles about economics and related topics, I have begun obsessively searching out those articles and saving them into an ever-growing folder on Google Drive.

Emboldened by my choice to have a crack at understanding economics, I’ve now decided to tackle something else I’ve always been bad at: keeping plants alive. It occurred to me that maybe I should apply the same process I had to the pursuit of economics education: stop saying, “I’m just not a plant person,” admit that I’d like to learn about this, find people who do know what they’re doing (Anna Schreier and Lani Frazer), and then ask for advice. I’m proud to say that I have eight houseplants that have now survived for a solid month now under my supervision.

I’m very grateful that my position affords me the flexibility to do something like this. I wish every adult here at SA could have the opportunity and the time to audit a class, as it has been one of the best learning and professional development experiences I’ve had. In addition to learning new content, I also cannot stress how much I’ve learned from Marco about being an educator, and how much I learn from my classmates on a daily basis, or how much I simply love spending that time with them every day.

And I wish every student at our school—and every person in our greater community —will at some point have the opportunity and the time to learn something just for the sake of learning. I know that’s not easy for our students to do now, but it will never be too late. Every single member of our community is so smart. And every single one of us has more to learn. 

In closing, I encourage you to reflect on something you would like to learn, something you think you can’t learn, or something you’ve been avoiding because you thought you might not get it. It can be a small thing, not a semester long class. I invite you to learn from my mistakes. Be honest about what you don’t know. Think about the resources available to you. Ask for help. That’s a scary step, but I promise you it’s worth it.