Some commentary around the recent “goose leg auntie” incident argued that college students who couldn’t tell a duck leg from a goose leg were simply lacking life experience, and that this was exactly the kind of practical life skill they ought to learn.
I’m not convinced.
My family used to raise both ducks and geese, so I do know something about the difference between them in terms of size and habits. But if you roast their legs and then ask me to identify which is which, I honestly wouldn’t be very confident. If someone gave me hints based on overall size or shape, I might have a rough guess. But if the standard is texture, meat quality, or taste, that feels like a bit much. I haven’t eaten enough of either to build that kind of certainty. And even if I had tried them a few times, I still wouldn’t trust myself to tell them apart reliably.
That kind of gap in knowledge is hardly unique. The meat I’ve eaten most of my life is pork, yet I still can’t clearly distinguish front leg meat from hind leg meat. I know tenderloin and pork belly are obviously different, but if you asked me to recall exactly what each cut looks like, I’d struggle. When I buy meat, I usually just follow the instructions I’m given at home and pick it up at the supermarket. The cuts are labeled and arranged clearly enough that it’s hard to make a mistake. I might glance at the prices and appearances while I’m standing there, but the moment I leave the store, it all slips out of my head. And once it’s cooked and in my mouth, most pork tastes pretty much the same to me.
Speaking of being forgetful, I was reminded of a news story I saw not long ago. Three elementary school students, walking home after class, spotted a poppy growing on a secluded hillside and called the police. The children said their teacher had taught them about the dangers of poppies and how to recognize them. At the time, I was curious enough to look up pictures and see what the plant looked like. To be honest, though, I now remember absolutely nothing about it.
Maybe I’m just the kind of person who is bad at noticing details, bad at retaining them, and a little slow on the uptake besides. There are things in everyday life that simply don’t register with me, or do register but never stay in my head. So I’ve drifted through the years in a somewhat muddled way, taking in the world only in passing. I may have lived long enough to accumulate experience, but when it comes to practical know-how and survival skills, I’m far from impressive.
Still, people live in different ways, and each kind of person has their own kind of ease. It’s certainly good to have abundant life experience and practical skills. But if some of that is missing, then it’s missing. There is no end to what any one person does not know. A deficiency in one narrow area is not, in itself, such a big deal.
