End
Paper:
The
Value
of
Knowing
What
You
Do
Not
Know
by
Mark
St.
John
Inverness
Research
Associates,
Inverness,
California
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How
does
inquiry
affect
us
every
day?
Asking
questions,
and
then
pursuing
our
interests
to
extend
our
awareness
of
the
world
around
us,
is
the
essence
of
lifelong
learning.
This
essay
challenges
us
to
examine
the
limits
of
our
knowledge,
and
step
beyond
the
boundaries
of
the
known.
The
word
inquiry
comes
from
the
Latin
words
in,
or
"inward,"
and
quirer,
which
is
the
verb
"to
question."
So
inquiry
is
not
just
asking
questions,
it
is
questioning
into
something.
Inquiry
entails
the
perception
of
depth.
It
has
the
quality
of
penetrating
into
something,
going
deeper,
so
you
can
see
what
you
haven't
been
able
to
see
before.
When
you
begin
an
inquiry,
you
are
deliberately
setting
out
to
search
for
what
you
don't
know.
You
have
to
have
the
confidence--perhaps
even
the
arrogance--to
say
that
you
might
be
able
to
figure
it
out
for
yourself.
And
in
that
process,
you
get
a
sense
of
real
excitement
and
energy.
That
energy
is
both
part
of,
and
contributes
to,
what
we
often
call
"engagement."
But
in
order
to
use
inquiry
to
answer
your
question,
you
have
to
become
good
at
knowing
what
you
don't
know.
I
would
argue
that
that's
exactly
the
opposite
of
what
happens
in
schools.
Classrooms
focus
on
what
you
do
know
(or
are
supposed
to
know)
and
leave
you
unprepared
to
deal
with
the
things
you
don't
know.
In
some
ways,
we
are
all
surrounded
by
a
bubble
of
the
known.
When
you
"know"
something,
you
identify
how
your
model
of
the
world
fits
with,
and
explains,
what
you
see.
Living
in
the
bubble
of
the
known
is
comfortable
and
comforting.
You
see
what
you
know,
and
you
know
what
you
see.
But
to
do
inquiry,
you
have
to
get
good
at
always
looking
for
the
boundaries
of
your
knowledge,
and
at
the
limitations
and
contradictions
within
what
is
known.
That
is
what
scientists
do.
They
are
always
looking
for
the
limits,
the
boundaries,
the
points
at
which
their
theories
fail
to
explain
the
world.
Scientists,
in
essence,
are
always
looking
for
that
"door"
from
the
known
to
the
unknown,
where
they
can
press
forth
and
push
and,
in
a
sense,
expand
the
bubble
of
the
known.
Inquiry
is
the
action
you
take
when
you
deliberately
challenge
the
limits
of
your
knowledge.
To
do
an
inquiry
well,
you
have
to
know
what
to
focus
on,
and
how
to
address
what
you
don't
understand.
You
have
to
be
able
to
continually
discern
what
the
next
step
should
be
as
you
push
into
the
limits
of
what
you
know.
You
have
to
know
what
is
likely
to
be
productive
inquiry,
and
what
is
not.
That's
the
real
art,
and
it
is
an
art
we
almost
never
teach
to
children.
How
do
you
learn
to
expand
your
knowledge?
You
have
to
be
able
to
recognize
what
you
don't
know,
and
become
fearless
in
going
beyond
that
boundary.
In
his
book
The
Year
of
the
Greylag
Goose,
for
example,
zoologist
Konrad
Lorenz
says:
Whenever
I
sit
for
a
couple
of
hours
on
the
gravel
bank...
with
my
flock
of
geese,
or
in
front
of
my
aquarium
with
tropical
fish
at
home...
the
time
rarely
goes
by
without
my
observing
something
unexpected.
I
never
have
an
explanation
at
hand
for
these
novel
observations.
Rather,
they
lead
me
on
to
new
questions
which
require
further
observations
and,
very
frequently
also,
experimental
investigation....
Lorenz
is
looking
for
that
moment
of
incongruity,
the
moment
when
what
he
sees
and
what
he
knows
don't
match
up.
Primatologist
Jane
Goodall
once
talked
about
a
similar
experience.
After
closely
watching
the
same
family
of
chimps
over
several
days
she
complains,
"I
see
nothing."
What
she
means
is:
"I
see
what
I
understand,
and
what
I
understand
is
what
I
see.
They
are
doing
things
that
make
sense
to
me."
But
unlike
a
good
student
in
school,
she
is
not
satisfied
by
this
experience.
She
says,
"I
am
not
here
to
see
what
I
know;
I
am
here
to
see
what
I
don't
know."
The
process
of
science
is
very
much
one
in
which
you
put
your
thinking
on
the
line,
watch
an
event
or
phenomenon,
and
then
match
the
two--pressing
and
probing
until
you
find
the
place
where
there's
a
contradiction,
or
where
you
encounter
something
you
cannot
understand
or
explain.
This
process
of
"looking
for
trouble"
is
not
something
we
often
value
in
the
classroom.
Children
are
rarely
taught
that
there
is
anything
useful
to
be
gained
in
examining
what
you
do
not
know.
Yet,
for
children,
this
is
the
essence
of
how
they
might
learn
to
find
things
out
for
themselves,
and
thereby
become
authors
of
their
own
knowledge.
Excerpted
from
the
Catherine
Moloney
Memorial
Lecture
given
April
25,
1998,
at
New
York's
City
College
Workshop
Center.
Reference
Lorenz,
K.,
Kalas,
S.,
and
Dalas,
K.
(English
translation,
1979).
The
year
of
the
greylag
goose.
London:
Eyre
Methuen
Ltd.
and
Harcourt
Brace
Jovanovich,
Inc.
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