Wear Your Ignorance Like a Badge of Honor
A couple of summers ago, I decided I wanted to try my hand at archery. I had grown up shooting a recurve bow at a stack of hay bales at my grandparents' house, so I had flung arrows before—but never with proper form or instruction.
So, I went to an archery shop to talk to the man behind the counter. I wanted to learn, and I didn’t care if I looked like a kook. I was a kook. I knew very little about the equipment I was about to buy, how it functioned, or how to shoot with proper form.
So, I let him know that. I told the salesman that I wanted to start shooting a compound bow, a friend had recommended a particular model—for simplicity—but I knew little to nothing about compound bows, and I needed guidance.
He seemed almost taken aback by my honesty.
He dove into all sorts of rich, useful information that was relevant to a novice archer. And then he said something critical:
“In archery, it is more important to shoot to your dominant eye than your dominant hand.”
“Wait, stop right there. So if I am left-handed but right-eye dominant, I should be shooting a right-handed bow?”
“Correct. You want to draw your arrow back to your dominant eye—like this,” he demonstrated.
Since I was a kid, I had been shooting a bow left-handed because I assumed that’s what a left-handed kid should do. This was a crucial, foundational piece of the puzzle that I could have easily missed if I had walked in trying to prove how much I already knew. If I had simply said, “I need a left-handed bow fitted for my height,” I could have walked out of there with the wrong equipment and put myself on a trajectory of frustration.
Instead, I got the right equipment and, with some guidance, began relearning how to shoot a bow properly—drawing with my right hand.
The Easiest Person to Teach
When you are attempting to master a new skill—or even simply trying a new hobby—it is critical that you don’t pretend to know what you don’t yet know.
We are often so concerned with not appearing ignorant that we miss the opportunity to be taught. We nod along and mutter “yeah” under our breath when, in reality, we have no idea what the person is talking about.
The easiest person to teach is the one who freely admits they don’t already have the knowledge or experience.
Over the last 16 years, we have helped tens of thousands of customers and built many thousands of custom surfboards. I have had countless conversations with customers of all experience levels. I am often surprised by how many people are more concerned with making sure I know that they have tried surfing before and stood up a few times while on vacation in Hawaii than they are about hearing my earnest advice on what equipment they need and how to progress.
If they would let their guard down long enough, I would be more than happy to pass along years of knowledge and experience to them. But far too often, that isn’t the case, and they leave with only a fraction of the insight I was willing to share.
Wear Your Ignorance Like a Badge of Honor
Whatever skill you are trying to learn, approach it with an open mind and a willingness to admit what you don’t know. Ask questions. Seek guidance. Let go of the pressure to appear competent.
If you do, you’ll get where you want to go much faster.
