A little learning is a dangerous thing;
drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:
there shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,
and drinking largely sobers us again.

That quote from Alexander Pope’s “An Essay on Criticism” is said to be the source of an often used maxim “A little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing.” With politicians making more and more public comments as the next election approaches, we’ll hear some of them get in trouble with a little knowledge. When speaking spur of the moment, it’s easy to fall into that humiliating place. I can have mercy on the ridiculed ones since I remember my own blunder around ten years of age when I ventured into a conversation with a little bit of knowledge.
During the summers I hired out working on tobacco priming days for other farmers in our community. My job was handing leaves, standing on my feet for hours and hours, bunching up tobacco leaves (three to a bundle unless the stems were skinny) and handing them to the tier. That’s tier as in tie-er, the person, usually a woman, who tied the bunches of leaves to the tobacco stick.
The relationship of the tier to the handers needed to be cordial since they spent the entire day together. A whining hander with a bad attitude could hold up progress and cause everyone to get behind on the job. An ill-natured tier could whip the bundles of leaves over the stick, slinging tobacco juice in the hander’s eyes if she was of a mind to do so. Green tobacco juice is like liquid fire if it gets in a person’ eyes. I learned not to make my mama mad when she was the tier.
On the day I recall, the tier was a saucy young woman from Stuart, Virginia. She often let bad words fly, sassed people who got on her nerves, and talked hateful about her husband in front of everyone at the barn. I was a little scared of her, but that day she was in a very good mood, so I was a bit more relaxed. After a while she announced that she was pregnant.
My ears perked like a German shepherd’s at the mention of pregnancy since I had started putting two and two together as to how a woman gets to that state. After observing horses mating, I had a revelation about men and women. Things were beginning to click. Plus, I had seen an episode of “I Love Lucy” in which Lucy found out she had a baby on the way and kept it a secret from Ricky. In my juvenile mind, I surmised that all women with child kept their pregnancy a secret for a certain period of time. Lucy gave me a little bit of knowledge on that, and I was excited to use it.
Attempting to come across in-the-know about such matters, I casually asked the tier, “Does your husband know?” She stopped tying, bent over laughing, and shot back at me. “Well, I reckon he does!” Everyone at the barn was older than I, and they all laughed hysterically. I couldn’t for the life of me understand what was so funny. I’d asked a perfectly normal question, assuming that she was still in the secret mode. My knowledge about sexual relationships wasn’t extensive enough to get the tier’s joke at my expense. I didn’t say another word the whole day.
That life lesson taught me not to venture into discussion topics which I’m not qualified to address, topics out of my reach. The Bible addresses the issue also: “Even a fool is counted wise when he holds his peace; when he shuts his lips, he is considered perceptive.” (Proverbs 17:28) A little bit of knowledge doesn’t have to be dangerous if I keep my mouth shut.

Now if a ten year old can figure out something like that, I think our politicians ought to be able to do as well. It’s no secret.