The most important part of teaching is to teach what it is to

Hear the profound utterance of Simone Weil: “The most important part of teaching is to teach what it is to know.” This is no ordinary reflection; it is a truth carved from the bedrock of wisdom. Many believe that to teach is to pass along facts, to pour words into vessels, to measure success by the weight of memorized lessons. Yet Weil reveals a deeper calling: the true task of the teacher is not the transfer of information, but the awakening of the spirit to the very act of knowing. For to know is not to recite, but to touch reality, to perceive truth with one’s own soul.

The ancients understood this. Socrates, who claimed to know nothing, was in fact a master of teaching what it is to know. He did not offer his pupils lists of knowledge, but instead taught them the wonder and struggle of discovery. He placed them in the fire of questioning until their minds glowed with the heat of their own awakening. By guiding them to see, he revealed that true knowing is not possession of answers, but a continual journey into the light of truth. This is what Weil points toward — that the essence of teaching is not content, but consciousness.

Consider the example of Galileo, standing before the tribunal of his age. He looked through the telescope and beheld the moons of Jupiter, and in that vision, he knew. But how did he teach others? He did not merely hand them facts; he invited them to look for themselves, to see with their own eyes, to taste reality unfiltered by dogma. Though many resisted, those who dared to look through the glass were forever changed. In that moment, they learned not just the positions of heavenly bodies, but what it means to truly know — to encounter truth directly.

The words of Weil also speak to the heart of every parent, mentor, and guide. To teach a child mathematics is not only to explain numbers, but to awaken in them the thrill of discovery, the discipline of thought, the wonder of pattern. To teach history is not merely to recount events, but to reveal how memory shapes identity and how truth must be discerned amidst countless voices. To teach love is not to list virtues, but to embody them so that the learner tastes their sweetness firsthand. Every subject, rightly given, should lead not just to knowledge, but to the understanding of what it is to know.

Yet this path is demanding. For it is far easier to hand down rote lessons than to stir the deep waters of a soul. A teacher who dares to awaken true knowing must themselves be awake — patient enough to guide, humble enough to admit uncertainty, courageous enough to demand struggle. For knowing is often born of silence, of wonder, of wrestling with difficulty until clarity dawns. The teacher’s task, then, is not to shield the student from struggle, but to accompany them through it.

What lesson, then, do we inherit? It is this: never confuse the appearance of knowledge with the reality of knowing. A head filled with facts may still be barren of understanding, but a heart that has wrestled with truth is forever fertile. To teach well is to spark that inner encounter, to kindle the flame of inquiry that burns beyond the classroom. Seek always not just to tell, but to reveal; not just to answer, but to lead another to the joy of seeing for themselves.

Practical action flows from this wisdom: if you teach, strive to show your students the path of discovery. Let them ask, let them search, let them struggle, and let them triumph. If you learn, do not be content with memorization — taste truth with your own being, feel the weight of knowing within your bones. Read not only to recall, but to awaken; listen not only to remember, but to understand. In all things, pursue the essence, not the shadow.

Thus, Simone Weil’s words stand as a beacon: the highest calling of the teacher is not to create parrots of knowledge, but lovers of truth. And the highest calling of the learner is not to collect facts, but to learn the sacred art of knowing. When this is done, the world is not merely informed — it is transformed.