When the teacher becomes the student, everyone learns together.

A few years ago, I was asked to teach an undergraduate course that introduces programming concepts through the C language. Sounds straightforward, right? Small catch: I had never written a single line of C. Not one.

At first, I felt the familiar weight of imposter syndrome. Professors are “supposed” to be experts, right? But then I found Therese Huston’s book, “Teaching What You Don’t Know.” The idea is that you don’t have to be an expert to be an effective teacher. In fact, sometimes NOT knowing can be an asset.

With that in mind, I approached it as a chance to learn alongside my students. I spent a few weeks preparing—studying the textbook, debugging practice problems, and yes, dealing with my share of segmentation faults. By the time the semester started, I had built enough familiarity to feel ready—well, ready enough.

Here’s what surprised me: the energy in the classroom was different. Students could sense that I wasn’t delivering the same recycled content from years of repetition. I wasn’t “performing” expertise—I was genuinely engaged in the material. That feeling is hard to fake. And as it turns out, you don’t need to.

When I reflected on the experience, I realized that “teaching what you don’t know” isn’t about pretending to be an expert. It’s about being open to learning and modeling that process for others. Students notice when you’re learning with them, and it changes the dynamic. They’re more willing to ask questions. They’re less afraid to be “wrong.” And they’re more willing to explore and collaborate.

Oftentimes, a professor might be only one week ahead of the students. And that’s perfectly fine! In fact, it can make the experience even more authentic. When students see that you’re actively learning, it reinforces the idea that growth is a shared process.

I’m now eyeing a fun course for next fall—there’s something I’ve always wanted to learn, and teaching it feels like the perfect opportunity to finally do so ;-)