Knowns and Unknowns

“Reports that say that something hasn't happened are always interesting to me, because as we know, there are known knowns; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns—the ones we don't know we don't know. And if one looks throughout the history of our country and other free countries, it is the latter category that tends to be the difficult ones.”

Donald Rumsfeld attracted much criticism and even ridicule when he made these remarks in 2002. I was 11 at the time, and they made perfect sense to me. I wonder if that’s because children are more comfortable than adults with the notion that they are still learning and have much yet to discover?

More recently, the tide has shifted somewhat and people have come to recognise Rumsfeld’s logic as a series of truism applicable in many day-to-day scenarios. Whilst it is certainly true that learners have much to, well, learn from the idea of known and unknowns knowns and unknowns, it is perhaps even more true that we encounter these hazards when training, coaching and teaching too.

I work in a primary school under the extremely broad heading of ‘Special Needs’. This incorporates children with any additional needs, whether they be brought about by illness or disability; a different native language; disrupted and violent home lives; bereavement; bullying; disadvantaged backgrounds (low income); being under the care of Social Services; or simply needing someone to talk to. I think I’m fairly good at what I do but I know some of my weaknesses and I also know that there are some things I simply cannot do: such as raise people from the dead, heal relationships between feuding family members, or reverse an incurable disease.

However, there are plenty of unknown unknowns and they crop up on at least a weekly basis: problems that I didn’t know existed; problems I’d never have imagined; problems I didn’t expect to afflict a particular child; issues in which I have no experience; actions of peers or adults that I cannot explain to my charges. It’s dangerous to think you know it all, because you don’t. Nobody does. There is always the capacity for surprise in a job like mine and the assumptions that you always have the answers or even that you can predict every problem are complacent and damaging.

Just as Rumsfeld stated, the unknown unknowns are “the difficult ones”. They’re the curveballs. They’re the things that catch you unawares and trip you up just when you thought you had it sussed. They’re the ones that make you look silly at best, and that are incredibly harmful at worst.

They are, unfortunately, a fact of life.

So why is this all relevant?

Well, as I mentioned above, teaching, training and coaching are all full of challenges. I do not believe that anybody alive has the answer to every problem in a certain issue - even if they are incredibly experienced and regarded as one of the best. There will always be challenges that even the pros have yet to encounter (let alone tackle!), so why should I assume that I know all there is to know?

You might be at the Olympics, but you never stop learning. Photo credit World of Showjumping

I certainly don’t know all there is to know. I don’t even know what I don’t know (the unknown unknowns). I know that there are some things I still need to learn more about (known unknowns), and I’m sure there are things that I think I understand that actually I’ve got wrong (unknown knowns). Given this, how can I be sure how many of my ‘known knowns’ really are correct? What if they are actually known unknowns?

To leap off this merry-go-round of linguistic delight for a moment, here’s the point: I don’t know everything. There are plenty of people who know an awful lot more than me. I have limited experience and limited knowledge. I do not claim to be an expert in anything other than my own experience (and even there I sometimes think I’m a novice!).

What I *do* have is some experience, and some knowledge. I also have my own mindset - the way I see problems and react to them. I have my own creativity to see things in a way that other people don’t. I hope that I also have the right attitude towards others - to hear their ideas, learn from them, and share their knowledge. It’s important to me that I take into account the views of everyone relevant in a particular scenario, whether I think they’re more experienced than me or not. On plenty of occasions I’ve had incredibly useful feedback from people who would look to me as a mentor, guide or coach. The idea that we can only learn from people more advanced than us is short-sighted.

I even learn a lot from this loveable twit 😍

As such, why not share my ideas and my experiences so far? In the world of disability, the sharing of ideas and knowledge is the greatest tool we have to make the world a more equitable place. I consider myself very lucky to live in a nation and a community that is not only tolerant of people with disabilities but also makes efforts to allow disabled people to thrive. Sure, life is harder for disabled people and it could get better - but it’s a damn sight better than many people are able to enjoy.

I’m lucky that I have a car, and a licence (and a disability that allows me to keep this licence), and enough money to run it. It means I can drive around the region to attend training, to coach (which is another way of training!), to go to the hospital, and just to make daily life easier. I’m lucky that I had a brilliant education. I’m lucky to have a very supportive family and enough money to allow me to survive whilst only working part-time. I’m lucky to have opportunities to ride and vault and do gymnastics training. I may have a disability, but in every other respect I am one of the luckiest people around.

My view of vaulting is that it is seriously underestimated as an activity for disabled people. It is actually far more adaptable than riding, and suitable for so many people (more on this in a later post, I think!). I consider it to be part of my self-imposed ‘duty’ to share this belief and this amazing sport with as many people as possible, so that other people with disabilities can experience the fantastic opportunities that I’ve been lucky enough to have. Part of that, I think, will be served here: by sharing some of the things I know, and hopefully discovering some of the things I don’t!

I don’t know everything. I’m not an expert. There are lots of ways to train people and horses and there are lots of different views on the merits of each. These, though, will be the ones that have worked for me and my charges.  

Lizzie

Walk on, Buddy!