"Why do I have to learn this? I'm never going to use it."
As a humanities educator, I bet I fielded this question a hundred or more times. And as a parent. And as a classmate.
And I get it. If I'm going to be a computer programmer, why do I need to understand the history of WW II? When will I ever worry about Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, or the symbolism of the canary in Trifles?
For a long time, I brought up E.D. Hirsch's argument in Cultural Literacy: What Every American Needs to Know. And, to a point, I still do. The argument, albeit much reduced, is that to be a functioning part of a society, Americans need to know what is relevant in the culture.
And it works. Case in point: During one class a couple of years ago, I went through my tired lecture about knowing the culture because, for example, students might one day have lunch with a boss who brings up an allusion in Moby Dick or Gone With the Wind, and it feels better to understand than to feel ignorant. Many students had heard of GWTW, but they didn't know anything about it.Some had no idea what I was even talking about. So, I gave very brief synopsis of the book. I explained how it commented on our culture, then and now, and why it was important in life and literature. I gave a very brief overview, just hoping that they got a basic introduction.
Several weeks later, I was chatting with students at the beginning of class. One of the students raised his hand, and when I addressed him, he said that he wanted to let me know that I was right.
Well, now. I liked the way this discussion was beginning.
When I asked him what I was right about, he referenced our earlier discussion on cultural literacy. He then proceeded to tell the story of recently having a conversation with his boss who mentioned Gone With the Wind. He was making a point, and, in doing so, he referenced GWTW.
The student was happy because he felt in the know. He got the point, and, in doing so, he was able to respond appropriately to the comment. The student felt like the boss took note of his ability to engage in the conversation. For him, it was a big win, and he was incredibly appreciative that we had discussed it in class. At that point, another student asked if I could tell them a little about Moby Dick.
I love it when a lesson comes together like that. They had heard me preaching about the need for General Education in a technical college for so long, but they finally got to experience the benefits first hand.
There are other reasons, though, equally important.
In survey after survey, employers include critical thinking in their list of most desired qualities in an employee. They understand that the employee who can think beyond the basics is an employee who will grow and succeed. When employees grow and succeed, so do their companies. English teaches critical thinking. Students read Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, and they can see past to the story line to understand a critique of controlling government or the dangers of putting technology ahead of humanity. They have the chance to search for clues to support their conclusions, and they have the chance to explain them in a way other people can understand.
The skills transfer to their careers. One day, they may field a call from a client who is having a problem. They will receive the story line, but the client likely won't spell out the clues. They will have to find those themselves. And the practice they had reading a book in English class will be put into practice in the workplace. They will solve the problem using the same mental skills they used in examining a novel.
We study History for similar reasons. History is really just stories of people. It teaches us how people have behaved in the past, and we strive to understand why. In knowing that, we can attempt to understand better their behaviors in the present or how they might behave in the future. We unconsciously attempt to understand the "why" of a person because we learned to understand that fear led to the Salem Witch Trials or that anger contributed to the Holocaust.
Learning material that is not seemingly relevant to us today is important. It allows us to see connections between the obvious and that which is implied. Or that which is unspoken, deliberately or not. Or that which needs to be uncovered.
It helps us to become thinking people instead of people who are simply good at following directions or staying on task. And that ability will empower us to chart our own courses instead of letting other people chart them for us. We control our destinies instead of letting other people define them for us.
I acknowledged to my students that getting through Moby Dick is no easy task, but understanding the philosophies that informed 19th century thought, including politics and culture, can help us to understand the policies and actions that led to an industrial age and two world wars. Familiarity with such an important classic in American literature and thought empowers us to be more familiar with others and with ourselves.
So, I gave them a very brief introduction to Melville's classic. I asked them to take note of the first line and to recognize the power we all have to name and define ourselves. "Call me Ishmael," and learn everything you can to better know yourself.
No comments:
Post a Comment