People blame the unions whenever a company packs up its operation and moves it overseas. The classic Reagan-era excuse was that greedy and demanding unions got too big for their britches and forced otherwise benevolent companies to move away. But have you noticed that entire industries that have never had any experience with unions are also making a mad dash for the third world? Cases in point: the tech industry or the customer service call centers for any industry.
While the rank and file engage in a heated debate as to whether or not unions are justified, the CEOs have been running to the bank unabated. Regardless of which side you are on, if you are fighting that fight, then you (like me and many others) fell for the diversion tactic.
I propose another explanation: I believe companies packed up and moved overseas simply because they could. Advances in transportation, communication, as well as advances in the third world nations themselves, made it easier for multi-national corporations to set up shop in places like Indonesia, Vietnam, etc. The businesses themselves also matured to the point where they were ready for such a change. A lot of industries started off as mom & pop shops, quickly growing to a larger operation, then multiple operations, etc.
Whether Americans are unionized or not, there is no way we can compete with people willing to work for mere cents a day. Even factoring in the large transportation expenses and set-up costs, businesses have been exuberantly clear that the savings in labor more than make up for any additional costs for having a split operation (management in America, manufacturing in the third world). I have no doubt that the demands of unions were a factor that irritated businesses—no question. But unions were not the foundational reason that prompted this seismic shift that has been going on the last 30 years. Industries that have no experience with unions are following the same trends.
You could argue that multi-national corporation are no strangers to the developing world: sugarcane plantations and diamond mines have been around for 500 years, if not more. In those cases, though, I would argue that they had to be there. The businesses themselves would invest in the nation’s infrastructure since there was nowhere else to harvest that produce or mine those minerals. There is more flexibility with a modern sweatshop. It is an employer’s market, if you will. They can set up their factory anywhere, so they can put more pressures on the local governments to put in that infrastructure for them. They can wait until conditions are favorable.
Statistics are clear that there is no less wealth in America. It is just concentrated among an increasingly smaller and smaller group of people. Real wages for the lower and middle class have been stagnant for 30 years. I know this from personal experience: A union factory worker could make $10-12 per hour in the early 80s. He could support a family on a single income and do it quite well. I have meandered around factories, warehouses and other industries, and even in the year 2011 one would be lucky to work for $10-12 per hour. What kind of lifestyle can you have today making $10 per hour (roughly 20 grand annually)? The price of everything has increased sharply, yet wages have not kept up with inflation. The result: the standard of living has gone down for most Americans. We are in a 30-year slow cook, and the boil is coming on just gradually enough for us to not realize it until it is too late. I have heard that frogs will leap out if thrown into a pot of hot water, but they are unable to respond if placed in a pot of cool water that heats up slowly.
Unions raised the standard of living for the lower and middle classes of America. There is no question about that: Advances that were won by the unions were directly the same advances that increased the standard of living for workers: Higher wages, better safety conditions, child safety laws, the 40-hour work week—these were the achievements that improved the standard of living of the lower and middle classes and they were fought for and won in large part by the unions. The existence of unions was not a mere correlation to advances in the standard of living in America. They were absolutely causational.
Most Americans today probably would not have liked living in the America of 100 years ago. The “home of the free” was not much different than a modern third world nation—our forefathers worked 16-hour days in often deadly conditions “for peanuts,” as they would say. They lived in tenements and shacks. Maternity leave consisted of an afternoon off, if you were lucky. Have we forgotten Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle? The increasing gap between rich and poor is not an empty political talking point. It is the grim reality of daily life. Businesses and politicians capitalize (literally) on the fact that most people either do not know or remember what it was like just 30 years ago.
All of this does not bode well for those of us in America. Our labor is competing with third world labor. It does not look promising to imagine where this will lead when followed to its logical conclusion. I have a sinking feeling that we are going to find out up close and personal where it leads, though.
I definitely urge America and especially Ohio (which is right now fighting for the life of collective bargaining in the public sector) not to vote against the interests of organized labor. Like any human operation, you can point to some faults and flaws among unions, but I would argue that it is dangerous to conclude that we would be better off without any unions. "The unions once served their purpose, but now they more problem than they are worth," you may hear. But just as the rise in the standard of living corresponds to the rise in organized labor, so too does the decline in that standard of living correspond to the decline in organized labor.
Regardless of how we vote, my worry is that organized labor may not be as effective as it once was in securing a more even distribution of the wealth. The tools and methods it has used historically are harder to apply in the modern marketplace. Workers acting as a group were able to control the supply of labor into an economy and make demands as a result. That was very effective when the supply of labor was limited to a small region. Now that advances in communications and transportation have made almost the entire 6 billion people of the world as potentially a part of the labor supply of many industries, the kind of global solidarity that would be required to use the same union methods as before seems far outside of the range of possibilities right now. Companies can pick up and move so easily now.
The industries that have been able to maintain their collective bargaining power have been those where outsourcing is simply not possible—such as teachers, for instance. Still, every industry that maintains collective bargaining provides a "bump" in the standard of living for all of us. There is a positive spillover effect as even non-union workers demand better terms in their employment. Likewise, every industry that loses that right will most likely also be knock to other industries, too.
Here is the bottom line, and it affects your bottom line: Whether lower and middle class workers act collectively or not, the results will be felt collectively.
Showing posts with label Education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Education. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Thursday, May 27, 2010
A Lesson in Love
I wrote the following for my final class in the MA in Theology program at Ohio Dominican University. The assignment was to reflect back upon my goals and aspirations in my admissions essay and also to discuss growth in the following areas while attending the program: personal and spiritual maturity, vocational identity, pastoral praxis, theological formation and professional development.
* * *
In my graduate admissions essay for the MA in Theology program, I discussed the importance of picking a single goal to pursue, even if I was not sure if it was the right one or not. For many years, I had postponed plans to do many things (including going to graduate school), because I felt I had not properly discerned whether it was entirely the right time, place or circumstance to do it. I would wait until I was more certain.
In this, there was a fear of making a decision. I had a profound awakening when it occurred to me that waiting to make a decision actually is a decision itself—it is a decision to do nothing and let life happen by default. I realized that being on the journey may be the best mode to properly figure something out. I can do a better job of discerning while I am actively trying something out. Sitting on the sidelines does not give a person the best perspective to know whether something is right for them or not. This is the spirit that prompted me to begin the Masters in Theology program at Ohio Dominican University.
I am surprised I did not learn this lesson years ago. One summer, I got a notion to start fishing as a hobby. My mother knew a local boy who was an avid fisher. Our mothers were friends and there was the chance that I would begin to spend time together with this kid, so I figured it made sense to start fishing. I spent a summer looking through fishing catalogues, comparing prices on poles and looking for just the right tackle box. This boy and I were going to be the best of friends, I just knew it. Months later, I actually met him and tried out fishing for the first time. After about 5 minutes, I caught a bluegill. It tugged on my line, and then got away. It was exciting but also disappointing, as it was hard to enjoy a hobby that injured another animal, especially when I was not planning on eating the fish. It also turns out that I did not get along very well with this boy once we actually met. After 5 minutes of actually trying it out, I knew that fishing was not right for me, despite spending a full summer pursuing it from the sidelines and being so sure it was what I wanted.
I have made significant progress on most of my vocational goals during the past few years. In my admissions essay, I listed the following possible career goals: University professor, retreat coordinator, director of an outreach agency, published author of scholarly work or spiritual reflection and composer of liturgical music. Through my Masters program, I have taken strides toward a teaching job. I will consider possible PhD work or an adjunct position in the future. My work at the Catholic Worker has strengthened my skills in conducting retreats, as we have hosted many. I have maintained the Catholic Worker’s online blog, and look to expand its reach by sending submissions to local publications. Last year, I participated in (and was a substitute leader) in the music ensemble of Mass on campus at ODU. I helped the ensemble of piano and voice turn into a stronger group with drums, banjo, guitar and trumpet. I did this by incorporating my own skills as well as encouraging fellow students to stretch out and showcase their own hidden talents.
I did not make significant progress composing liturgical music during this time, but in the future I may still work on that (it does not help that the leading publishers have had an indefinite moratorium on new submissions for Mass parts as the new translation of the Mass is being reviewed).
The Columbus Catholic Worker community formed about three and a half years ago. I joined because I had previously been involved in other communities in Akron, OH, and Worcester, MA. The Catholic Worker movement has always impressed me as a beautiful and deeply insightful approach to Christian service in the way it blends direct outreach to the needy with involvement in global issues of justice. Being involved in direct service has a grounding effect, as people know others who are suffering on a personal level. In a likewise manner, being involved in social justice work gives a vision to the direct service, so that it is not just random acts of kindness but rather has an underlying vision and direction. In addition to that, the Catholic Worker movement is about turning one’s very lifestyle into an act of service--my normal rent contributions and housekeeping responsibilities turn into acts of service in this environment. This is done by using one’s own home as a place to conduct this service. Some claim that intentional communities like the Catholic Worker are part of a new movement in community living, often dubbed the “New Monasticism.”
I got involved in the community in Columbus and dug right in. I eventually moved with two other people into the former Dominican convent at St. James the Less Catholic Church. The foundation of our community is a group of people who live together in a faith-based way. We pray together and through our living in community try to be a light for the neighborhood, the city and the world.
We facilitate numerous ministries, based on the expressed needs of the world around us. There is a large and well-organized St. Vincent de Paul food pantry that shares the building with us. We run a free clothing store (which is an ideal partner to the food pantry). We have a thriving community garden which is not only a wonderful community builder, but it also produces bushels of produce for the food pantry. Knowing English is worth more than gold to the immigrant, and so based on the recommendations of the local Latino Apostolate, we offer ESL classes. On top of that, there is much work for peace & justice efforts. Most notably, that has taken the form of opposition to the death penalty, militarism and support for immigration reform. We helped form a new local chapter of Pax Christi, the international Catholic peace movement. We also open our space for retreats and workshops and host numerous other ministries: Spanish language legal clinic, nutrition classes, canning & food preservation classes, H1N1 inoculation clinic, Bible study and Taizé prayer.
In the spirit of Benedictine hospitality, sometimes the best way to help a movement is to provide the support, encouragement and structure for it. For example, not only do I vigil and write against the death penalty, but we have opened our Catholic Worker house to be a warm and inviting (and free) meeting space for groups working against the death penalty. A Catholic Worker house is often a gathering place for activists to learn from each other and support each other.
Taken together, the Catholic Worker tries to help out the world in big and little ways. There are direct Works of Mercy, such as feeding the hungry and clothing those who are cold—if someone needs a fish, we give them a fish. We also take it to another level and educate people how to build community and grow their own organic food through the garden and also provide education through ESL classes—by teaching someone to fish, we can feed them for a lifetime. We then look at the underlying social justice issues—we ask why they need fish in the first place. We try to be good neighbors and partners with other organizations—we trade fishing supplies with other fishers.
At a point early in the first year, I had a realization. I remember the moment: I realized that I truly love the Catholic Worker movement, and, more specifically, that I love the Columbus Catholic Worker community. For one of the first times in my life, I loved something enough to put it first. I was not as concerned about making a name for myself, getting credit or winning ego battles—I am truly willing to do whatever it takes for the community to succeed. This is not to say that I have been totally immune from those human frailties and temptations, though. What it does mean is that once I was grounded in love, then everything else took second place.
I am also learning a lot about the entrepreneurial spirit through this process. In reflection, I realized that my parents and grandparents were very entrepreneurial. It has taken me many years to see that, since at first glace it may seem like they worked ordinary blue collar jobs. However, behind all that, they were always making and selling things, such growing vegetables and going to flea markets and other sales. They were opportunistic in the way they used the resources and environment around them. They knew how to network.
As an entrepreneur, it is important to take an active role in the job market. There are many folks who graduate with BA and MA degrees in Theology (or some related degree) from Catholic and other Christian institutions in the Columbus area. However, the sad reality is that there are only a handful of job openings within the diocese. While many of those graduates already have jobs or are not looking for employment within the Church, there is no escaping the grim mathematical scenario of the job market.
I decided that the best way to get a job is to create one. Yet, I did not set out to do that at first with the Columbus Catholic Worker. Like I mentioned before, I was spurred on by love, and the rest fell into place. While we began as a community, I soon discovered that my sense of commitment was different that many others, and little by little some people stepped aside or moved on for one reason or another, and I was forced to take on more. It was not simply a question of taking on more work, but rather taking on the responsibility. Someone had to make sure things got done, even if that meant staying until 2:00 am to finish something if others did not show up. In all this, I felt I was being shaped and formed in this work. Thankfully, there is now with me a dedicated team that also shares a strong commitment to the mission, but there was a time when I felt alone. I have cared for the Columbus Catholic Worker like a parent to a child. I am rooted in a sense of commitment. Perhaps this is the conversion of the heart that Catholic Worker founder Dorothy Day talked about.
Despite the additional responsibility, I was also overjoyed at the opportunity: One of my primary talents is strategic planning. I like to take a bird’s eye view of an operation and put the pieces together from this vantage point. I created partnerships with other groups that met certain objectives. I put different ministries together in the hopes of generating synergy. Unlike other jobs and activities in the past, there were few people standing in the way. In any group of people, there are the ‘nay sayers’ and folks who create roadblocks for one reason or another, but in this case they were not as invested as someone who is in love.
Despite the fact that there was tremendous work involved, I also saw how feasible it was. I was part of a small group of community volunteers who put a structure together—I shepherded our group to incorporate as a non-profit organization. We are currently applying for 501C3 tax exempt status. I am the primary person forming partnerships with other organizations and negotiating with the host parish and diocese, maintenance and utilities companies. We have developed numerous ministries and outreach efforts. I realized that forming a completely new organization out of scratch is not an inaccessible, lofty goal, but rather something to be seized and tried. There are other options in life besides passively apply for jobs that are posted—we also have the option to go out and create our own. This has been a profound awakening.
The irony is that there is no shortage of job openings in the Church—if one is willing to wear a collar or habit. A priest is specifically ordained and stands in persona Christi. At the same time, we are all called to be co-workers in the vineyard, and we all share a common priesthood. The question is where the Catholic Church is willing to lean in this distinction. There is quite a bit of theology that the Church has to work through in order to shift the balance to include the laity more in matters once reserved for the ordained. The shift is not just administrative, because it requires a theological shift, as well. However, I believe that the groundwork for this shift has already been laid, most specifically at Vatican II.
Other religious orders have in some cases centuries of infrastructure and financial support for their work. The problem is that there are fewer people today taking lifetime vows of poverty, chastity and obedience than in previous generations. The result is that much of this infrastructure is left to sit idle—convents are closing down as orders consolidate.
New movements like the Catholic Worker show a different way for people to live in faith-based communities that resonate in the current culture. The three traditional, lifetime vows are not a requirement. Many communities are ecumenical. They allow men, women and families. They also allow for transition. People can either work outside jobs or not. It is a great experiment to see whether modern intentional communities will have the longevity of the Benedictines, Mendicants and others, but there is every reason to believe that these new movements are part of something substantial within the Church.
Traditional orders could benefit by trying to adapt to the modern culture. The ancient “order of widows” is coming back in fashion, as older people who are widowed or divorced with grown children are seeking out religious orders at that phase of their lives. There are also more third orders and “internship” type programs in place, but there could be more.
The Columbus Catholic Worker has a Catholic identity, but it is also ecumenical. Both are true. From the beginning, the thing that most impressed me by the founders of the Columbus community was the desire to work in concert with the institutional Catholic Church right from the beginning. We are a part of the Church, even though we do not report to the hierarchy. Many Catholic Worker communities have an adversarial relationship with their local parish or diocese. It is our desire to stay in relationship, even when we disagree, as that is the best context for true peacemaking.
My studies in theology have been extremely helpful in my leadership of the Catholic Worker. It is good to know what the hot button issues are in the theological world, so that we are careful about what we say publicly. It is important to represent what we want to say and not cause any unexpected responses—taking a controversial stand only when we want to and not by accident. I use readings from class in our group prayer and reflection time.
As Director of the organization, I am the “go to” person when difficult matters arise. People come to me to air out grievances about other people or the organization. I am the one called into difficult meetings when expectations have not been met or problems arise. My value is to be open and honest with people and carry myself in a measured way. I feel like I am in the public view 24/7, and I watch what I say and how I say it. At the same time, I have had to be mindful of my health. Finding appropriate people to confide in and vent to is critical, and I have learned that by experience: I developed a stomach ulcer last year, because I was walking this high wire act without creating enough space for my health.
Prayer is also critical. As a faith-based organization, we live on prayer and see the ministries as truly the fruit of the Holy Spirit and not directly our own efforts in isolation. Studying the Augustine vs. Pelagius debates in the Masters program have helped me to better understand the role of the Holy Spirit in our lives this way. I have a fuller appreciation for the orthodox view than I did before, as I used to lean a lot more to the Pelagian side before beginning the program.
I learned a great deal about Catholic Christian theology in the Masters program. It is valuable to have faculty who between themselves have different opinions and approaches to scholarship. I have truly come to understand the notion of God as Trinity in a way I never expected. I see the relationship between nature and grace, and our ability to explain it, as forming the dividing lines between many denominations. I see the foundations of Catholic Social Teaching in what Richard Sokoloswki calls “The Christian distinction”—that gratitude is the only appropriate response to creation, as creation is a pure gift from a God who does not need us but wants us. While I have never focused on sacramental theology, it becomes evident quickly that in systematic theology all of the fields are intricately related. I got to a point in my education where I had taken courses in eschatology and theological anthropology, and I touched up upon Trinity and Christology as part of other courses, and I knew that I had to study sacramental theology or else I would risk missing a vital link.
I am ultimately fascinated by ecumenism, and in my spare time I read up on ecclesiology. I read Avery Dulles’ Models of the Church the way some people read fiction for spiritual enlightenment. To me, systematic theology and spirituality are the same things. Notions of the Catholic, analogical imagination, as described by Andrew Greeley, have also had a strong impact on me. I have often struggled with people who hold that being a Catholic or Christian means affirming a set of beliefs—one is either in or out based on answers to certain questions. Both Dulles and Greeley describe ways to be Catholic that do not reduce the faith to meeting a short list of criteria. I struggle with many dogmas, magisterial pronouncements and the role of the pope. Yet, I know I am Catholic. Other denominations have never been a real possibility for me, even if I have had a hard time explaining why. My theology, the way I see grace in the world, is wholly Catholic through and through. This lumbering caravan of saints and sinners described by Dulles, the description of the Church as a great, big Renaissance Fair that never ends, described by fellow Catholic Worker Miki Tracy, are all part of the Catholic story.
I was deeply moved by the theologian Gerald W. Schlabach who envisions his own Mennonite Church more as a charism of the larger Church, rather than a separate denomination. The future of ecumenism may lie in a shift of definitions like that, as we are coming to see divisions in softer terms.
Inspired by Hans Küng, I long for a Catholic Church that is more conciliar in the way it makes decisions. Instead of emphasizing a strict monarchy of the pope, we should instead move back to an early Church approach that leans more on councils of bishops and grassroots decision making. An Orthodox friend has told me I should consider her Church, as they do not recognize papal authority in the way that Catholics do. I would simply say that I am rather a conciliar Catholic, and there is enough support for that approach to Church in our tradition to keep it as a vital possibility. In addition, inroads by Liberation Theologians, particularly at the Medellín Conference in 1968, give promise to a more bottoms-up approach to authority. The sensus fidelium--the sense of the faithful--has a role to play in magisterial authority, as the combined insights of all the faithful is theologically significant and is a force in the life of the Church. A rigid, papal-based system of authority is not the only tradition we have, even though it often gets the most attention.
I loved the Scripture courses as much as I thought I would. I began taking Hebrew language courses at the Methodist Theological Seminary, but with an outside job and other class responsibilities I was only able to complete a single semester. I am most impressed with some of the papers I wrote in those scripture courses. My technical mind came into play doing a word study on the book of Qohelet, and my final paper included a number of charts and diagrams of word usage and frequency. I loved taking the psalms apart and looking at them from various angles. My paper exploring literary devices in the Gospel of John stands as one of my proudest accomplishments.
The future is still up for grabs. I would love it if my work at the Columbus Catholic Worker could turn into full-time, paid employment. That would involve a development of more funding sources and administrative infrastructure. It would also challenge the charism of the organization, as Catholic Worker communities usually do not have paid staff and instead operate in Franciscan poverty. However, as the mission evolves, there is a possibility that we might move in that direction. I would like to continue my writing on community, theology and justice, and look for a larger audience. My passion for teaching is strong, and I have skills to share in both theology as well as writing/editing. I do not have other plans at the moment, but there is a limit to how long I will be able to continue without some kind of outside employment.
For the moment, my plan is to stay in Ohio, near my parents, friends and girlfriend. I realize that decision severely limits professional options, as ministry jobs are often available if one is willing to move. For the time being, I cannot imagine doing anything other than continuing with the Columbus Catholic Worker, and I want to see it through.
* * *
In my graduate admissions essay for the MA in Theology program, I discussed the importance of picking a single goal to pursue, even if I was not sure if it was the right one or not. For many years, I had postponed plans to do many things (including going to graduate school), because I felt I had not properly discerned whether it was entirely the right time, place or circumstance to do it. I would wait until I was more certain.
In this, there was a fear of making a decision. I had a profound awakening when it occurred to me that waiting to make a decision actually is a decision itself—it is a decision to do nothing and let life happen by default. I realized that being on the journey may be the best mode to properly figure something out. I can do a better job of discerning while I am actively trying something out. Sitting on the sidelines does not give a person the best perspective to know whether something is right for them or not. This is the spirit that prompted me to begin the Masters in Theology program at Ohio Dominican University.
I am surprised I did not learn this lesson years ago. One summer, I got a notion to start fishing as a hobby. My mother knew a local boy who was an avid fisher. Our mothers were friends and there was the chance that I would begin to spend time together with this kid, so I figured it made sense to start fishing. I spent a summer looking through fishing catalogues, comparing prices on poles and looking for just the right tackle box. This boy and I were going to be the best of friends, I just knew it. Months later, I actually met him and tried out fishing for the first time. After about 5 minutes, I caught a bluegill. It tugged on my line, and then got away. It was exciting but also disappointing, as it was hard to enjoy a hobby that injured another animal, especially when I was not planning on eating the fish. It also turns out that I did not get along very well with this boy once we actually met. After 5 minutes of actually trying it out, I knew that fishing was not right for me, despite spending a full summer pursuing it from the sidelines and being so sure it was what I wanted.
I have made significant progress on most of my vocational goals during the past few years. In my admissions essay, I listed the following possible career goals: University professor, retreat coordinator, director of an outreach agency, published author of scholarly work or spiritual reflection and composer of liturgical music. Through my Masters program, I have taken strides toward a teaching job. I will consider possible PhD work or an adjunct position in the future. My work at the Catholic Worker has strengthened my skills in conducting retreats, as we have hosted many. I have maintained the Catholic Worker’s online blog, and look to expand its reach by sending submissions to local publications. Last year, I participated in (and was a substitute leader) in the music ensemble of Mass on campus at ODU. I helped the ensemble of piano and voice turn into a stronger group with drums, banjo, guitar and trumpet. I did this by incorporating my own skills as well as encouraging fellow students to stretch out and showcase their own hidden talents.
I did not make significant progress composing liturgical music during this time, but in the future I may still work on that (it does not help that the leading publishers have had an indefinite moratorium on new submissions for Mass parts as the new translation of the Mass is being reviewed).
The Columbus Catholic Worker community formed about three and a half years ago. I joined because I had previously been involved in other communities in Akron, OH, and Worcester, MA. The Catholic Worker movement has always impressed me as a beautiful and deeply insightful approach to Christian service in the way it blends direct outreach to the needy with involvement in global issues of justice. Being involved in direct service has a grounding effect, as people know others who are suffering on a personal level. In a likewise manner, being involved in social justice work gives a vision to the direct service, so that it is not just random acts of kindness but rather has an underlying vision and direction. In addition to that, the Catholic Worker movement is about turning one’s very lifestyle into an act of service--my normal rent contributions and housekeeping responsibilities turn into acts of service in this environment. This is done by using one’s own home as a place to conduct this service. Some claim that intentional communities like the Catholic Worker are part of a new movement in community living, often dubbed the “New Monasticism.”
I got involved in the community in Columbus and dug right in. I eventually moved with two other people into the former Dominican convent at St. James the Less Catholic Church. The foundation of our community is a group of people who live together in a faith-based way. We pray together and through our living in community try to be a light for the neighborhood, the city and the world.
We facilitate numerous ministries, based on the expressed needs of the world around us. There is a large and well-organized St. Vincent de Paul food pantry that shares the building with us. We run a free clothing store (which is an ideal partner to the food pantry). We have a thriving community garden which is not only a wonderful community builder, but it also produces bushels of produce for the food pantry. Knowing English is worth more than gold to the immigrant, and so based on the recommendations of the local Latino Apostolate, we offer ESL classes. On top of that, there is much work for peace & justice efforts. Most notably, that has taken the form of opposition to the death penalty, militarism and support for immigration reform. We helped form a new local chapter of Pax Christi, the international Catholic peace movement. We also open our space for retreats and workshops and host numerous other ministries: Spanish language legal clinic, nutrition classes, canning & food preservation classes, H1N1 inoculation clinic, Bible study and Taizé prayer.
In the spirit of Benedictine hospitality, sometimes the best way to help a movement is to provide the support, encouragement and structure for it. For example, not only do I vigil and write against the death penalty, but we have opened our Catholic Worker house to be a warm and inviting (and free) meeting space for groups working against the death penalty. A Catholic Worker house is often a gathering place for activists to learn from each other and support each other.
Taken together, the Catholic Worker tries to help out the world in big and little ways. There are direct Works of Mercy, such as feeding the hungry and clothing those who are cold—if someone needs a fish, we give them a fish. We also take it to another level and educate people how to build community and grow their own organic food through the garden and also provide education through ESL classes—by teaching someone to fish, we can feed them for a lifetime. We then look at the underlying social justice issues—we ask why they need fish in the first place. We try to be good neighbors and partners with other organizations—we trade fishing supplies with other fishers.
At a point early in the first year, I had a realization. I remember the moment: I realized that I truly love the Catholic Worker movement, and, more specifically, that I love the Columbus Catholic Worker community. For one of the first times in my life, I loved something enough to put it first. I was not as concerned about making a name for myself, getting credit or winning ego battles—I am truly willing to do whatever it takes for the community to succeed. This is not to say that I have been totally immune from those human frailties and temptations, though. What it does mean is that once I was grounded in love, then everything else took second place.
I am also learning a lot about the entrepreneurial spirit through this process. In reflection, I realized that my parents and grandparents were very entrepreneurial. It has taken me many years to see that, since at first glace it may seem like they worked ordinary blue collar jobs. However, behind all that, they were always making and selling things, such growing vegetables and going to flea markets and other sales. They were opportunistic in the way they used the resources and environment around them. They knew how to network.
As an entrepreneur, it is important to take an active role in the job market. There are many folks who graduate with BA and MA degrees in Theology (or some related degree) from Catholic and other Christian institutions in the Columbus area. However, the sad reality is that there are only a handful of job openings within the diocese. While many of those graduates already have jobs or are not looking for employment within the Church, there is no escaping the grim mathematical scenario of the job market.
I decided that the best way to get a job is to create one. Yet, I did not set out to do that at first with the Columbus Catholic Worker. Like I mentioned before, I was spurred on by love, and the rest fell into place. While we began as a community, I soon discovered that my sense of commitment was different that many others, and little by little some people stepped aside or moved on for one reason or another, and I was forced to take on more. It was not simply a question of taking on more work, but rather taking on the responsibility. Someone had to make sure things got done, even if that meant staying until 2:00 am to finish something if others did not show up. In all this, I felt I was being shaped and formed in this work. Thankfully, there is now with me a dedicated team that also shares a strong commitment to the mission, but there was a time when I felt alone. I have cared for the Columbus Catholic Worker like a parent to a child. I am rooted in a sense of commitment. Perhaps this is the conversion of the heart that Catholic Worker founder Dorothy Day talked about.
Despite the additional responsibility, I was also overjoyed at the opportunity: One of my primary talents is strategic planning. I like to take a bird’s eye view of an operation and put the pieces together from this vantage point. I created partnerships with other groups that met certain objectives. I put different ministries together in the hopes of generating synergy. Unlike other jobs and activities in the past, there were few people standing in the way. In any group of people, there are the ‘nay sayers’ and folks who create roadblocks for one reason or another, but in this case they were not as invested as someone who is in love.
Despite the fact that there was tremendous work involved, I also saw how feasible it was. I was part of a small group of community volunteers who put a structure together—I shepherded our group to incorporate as a non-profit organization. We are currently applying for 501C3 tax exempt status. I am the primary person forming partnerships with other organizations and negotiating with the host parish and diocese, maintenance and utilities companies. We have developed numerous ministries and outreach efforts. I realized that forming a completely new organization out of scratch is not an inaccessible, lofty goal, but rather something to be seized and tried. There are other options in life besides passively apply for jobs that are posted—we also have the option to go out and create our own. This has been a profound awakening.
The irony is that there is no shortage of job openings in the Church—if one is willing to wear a collar or habit. A priest is specifically ordained and stands in persona Christi. At the same time, we are all called to be co-workers in the vineyard, and we all share a common priesthood. The question is where the Catholic Church is willing to lean in this distinction. There is quite a bit of theology that the Church has to work through in order to shift the balance to include the laity more in matters once reserved for the ordained. The shift is not just administrative, because it requires a theological shift, as well. However, I believe that the groundwork for this shift has already been laid, most specifically at Vatican II.
Other religious orders have in some cases centuries of infrastructure and financial support for their work. The problem is that there are fewer people today taking lifetime vows of poverty, chastity and obedience than in previous generations. The result is that much of this infrastructure is left to sit idle—convents are closing down as orders consolidate.
New movements like the Catholic Worker show a different way for people to live in faith-based communities that resonate in the current culture. The three traditional, lifetime vows are not a requirement. Many communities are ecumenical. They allow men, women and families. They also allow for transition. People can either work outside jobs or not. It is a great experiment to see whether modern intentional communities will have the longevity of the Benedictines, Mendicants and others, but there is every reason to believe that these new movements are part of something substantial within the Church.
Traditional orders could benefit by trying to adapt to the modern culture. The ancient “order of widows” is coming back in fashion, as older people who are widowed or divorced with grown children are seeking out religious orders at that phase of their lives. There are also more third orders and “internship” type programs in place, but there could be more.
The Columbus Catholic Worker has a Catholic identity, but it is also ecumenical. Both are true. From the beginning, the thing that most impressed me by the founders of the Columbus community was the desire to work in concert with the institutional Catholic Church right from the beginning. We are a part of the Church, even though we do not report to the hierarchy. Many Catholic Worker communities have an adversarial relationship with their local parish or diocese. It is our desire to stay in relationship, even when we disagree, as that is the best context for true peacemaking.
My studies in theology have been extremely helpful in my leadership of the Catholic Worker. It is good to know what the hot button issues are in the theological world, so that we are careful about what we say publicly. It is important to represent what we want to say and not cause any unexpected responses—taking a controversial stand only when we want to and not by accident. I use readings from class in our group prayer and reflection time.
As Director of the organization, I am the “go to” person when difficult matters arise. People come to me to air out grievances about other people or the organization. I am the one called into difficult meetings when expectations have not been met or problems arise. My value is to be open and honest with people and carry myself in a measured way. I feel like I am in the public view 24/7, and I watch what I say and how I say it. At the same time, I have had to be mindful of my health. Finding appropriate people to confide in and vent to is critical, and I have learned that by experience: I developed a stomach ulcer last year, because I was walking this high wire act without creating enough space for my health.
Prayer is also critical. As a faith-based organization, we live on prayer and see the ministries as truly the fruit of the Holy Spirit and not directly our own efforts in isolation. Studying the Augustine vs. Pelagius debates in the Masters program have helped me to better understand the role of the Holy Spirit in our lives this way. I have a fuller appreciation for the orthodox view than I did before, as I used to lean a lot more to the Pelagian side before beginning the program.
I learned a great deal about Catholic Christian theology in the Masters program. It is valuable to have faculty who between themselves have different opinions and approaches to scholarship. I have truly come to understand the notion of God as Trinity in a way I never expected. I see the relationship between nature and grace, and our ability to explain it, as forming the dividing lines between many denominations. I see the foundations of Catholic Social Teaching in what Richard Sokoloswki calls “The Christian distinction”—that gratitude is the only appropriate response to creation, as creation is a pure gift from a God who does not need us but wants us. While I have never focused on sacramental theology, it becomes evident quickly that in systematic theology all of the fields are intricately related. I got to a point in my education where I had taken courses in eschatology and theological anthropology, and I touched up upon Trinity and Christology as part of other courses, and I knew that I had to study sacramental theology or else I would risk missing a vital link.
I am ultimately fascinated by ecumenism, and in my spare time I read up on ecclesiology. I read Avery Dulles’ Models of the Church the way some people read fiction for spiritual enlightenment. To me, systematic theology and spirituality are the same things. Notions of the Catholic, analogical imagination, as described by Andrew Greeley, have also had a strong impact on me. I have often struggled with people who hold that being a Catholic or Christian means affirming a set of beliefs—one is either in or out based on answers to certain questions. Both Dulles and Greeley describe ways to be Catholic that do not reduce the faith to meeting a short list of criteria. I struggle with many dogmas, magisterial pronouncements and the role of the pope. Yet, I know I am Catholic. Other denominations have never been a real possibility for me, even if I have had a hard time explaining why. My theology, the way I see grace in the world, is wholly Catholic through and through. This lumbering caravan of saints and sinners described by Dulles, the description of the Church as a great, big Renaissance Fair that never ends, described by fellow Catholic Worker Miki Tracy, are all part of the Catholic story.
I was deeply moved by the theologian Gerald W. Schlabach who envisions his own Mennonite Church more as a charism of the larger Church, rather than a separate denomination. The future of ecumenism may lie in a shift of definitions like that, as we are coming to see divisions in softer terms.
Inspired by Hans Küng, I long for a Catholic Church that is more conciliar in the way it makes decisions. Instead of emphasizing a strict monarchy of the pope, we should instead move back to an early Church approach that leans more on councils of bishops and grassroots decision making. An Orthodox friend has told me I should consider her Church, as they do not recognize papal authority in the way that Catholics do. I would simply say that I am rather a conciliar Catholic, and there is enough support for that approach to Church in our tradition to keep it as a vital possibility. In addition, inroads by Liberation Theologians, particularly at the Medellín Conference in 1968, give promise to a more bottoms-up approach to authority. The sensus fidelium--the sense of the faithful--has a role to play in magisterial authority, as the combined insights of all the faithful is theologically significant and is a force in the life of the Church. A rigid, papal-based system of authority is not the only tradition we have, even though it often gets the most attention.
I loved the Scripture courses as much as I thought I would. I began taking Hebrew language courses at the Methodist Theological Seminary, but with an outside job and other class responsibilities I was only able to complete a single semester. I am most impressed with some of the papers I wrote in those scripture courses. My technical mind came into play doing a word study on the book of Qohelet, and my final paper included a number of charts and diagrams of word usage and frequency. I loved taking the psalms apart and looking at them from various angles. My paper exploring literary devices in the Gospel of John stands as one of my proudest accomplishments.
The future is still up for grabs. I would love it if my work at the Columbus Catholic Worker could turn into full-time, paid employment. That would involve a development of more funding sources and administrative infrastructure. It would also challenge the charism of the organization, as Catholic Worker communities usually do not have paid staff and instead operate in Franciscan poverty. However, as the mission evolves, there is a possibility that we might move in that direction. I would like to continue my writing on community, theology and justice, and look for a larger audience. My passion for teaching is strong, and I have skills to share in both theology as well as writing/editing. I do not have other plans at the moment, but there is a limit to how long I will be able to continue without some kind of outside employment.
For the moment, my plan is to stay in Ohio, near my parents, friends and girlfriend. I realize that decision severely limits professional options, as ministry jobs are often available if one is willing to move. For the time being, I cannot imagine doing anything other than continuing with the Columbus Catholic Worker, and I want to see it through.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Move it!
Your money, that is:
Move Your Money
Move it out of large, predatory banks and into smaller banks or credit unions with a better track record of managing money and treating customers.
Take the pledge. Watch the video. Move yer bucks.
Move Your Money
Move it out of large, predatory banks and into smaller banks or credit unions with a better track record of managing money and treating customers.
Take the pledge. Watch the video. Move yer bucks.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Doctor: I'm having . . . Contractions!
It bothers me that Blogger's spell check feature considers all my contractions to be errors. Did some kind of rule change where we're not allowed to use them, anymore? I've always loved using them, and couldn't see myself going without them.
It concerns me primarily because the use of contractions seems't've gone down over the years. I wouldn't've guessed it, but it's happened. Pick up some older novels, and you'll spot all sorts of contractions you may never've seen before. I shan't be counted among those who'll've allowed this fine tradition to fall by the wayside!
Perhaps I should be consoled as new slang terms have come along to fill this gap. I'm gonna hafta start usin' these new forms of contractions to cure this fix that I'm havin', and feggeddabout the ones we usta use.
It concerns me primarily because the use of contractions seems't've gone down over the years. I wouldn't've guessed it, but it's happened. Pick up some older novels, and you'll spot all sorts of contractions you may never've seen before. I shan't be counted among those who'll've allowed this fine tradition to fall by the wayside!
Perhaps I should be consoled as new slang terms have come along to fill this gap. I'm gonna hafta start usin' these new forms of contractions to cure this fix that I'm havin', and feggeddabout the ones we usta use.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Hebrew
I am taking a course in Biblical Hebrew at the Methodist Theological School in Ohio in nearby Delaware, OH. The people and atmosphere are very welcoming. It is amazing the way you can feel the denominational tradition of a place just by walking around. It feels very Protestant and very good. I am glad to be a guest on this campus and anxious to see how it looks as the Fall unfolds. I would love to linger longer, but after class I need to scurry away to work.
It is the second day of class and I already got the alphabet down pat, including the 5 final-ending letters. How's that for kicking ass and taking names . . . er, letters?
This class puts me in such a good mood. My peak creative hours are in the morning, and I get to put them to use in a meaningful way. Squandering them at work is no small sin.
I just love getting into languages. It is one thing to read a commentary that describes the Ancient Israelites as having a holistic understanding of themselves and the world/universe. It is quite another to experience that in their actual words and thought categories expressed in language.
While the Ancient Israelites would talk of the whole person, it was the Greeks who separated people into body, mind and soul. This fragmentation deepened in the western world through the Enlightenment, assisted by the increased specialization in the sciences in our modern day. It is only been recently that there has been a much-needed return to holistic understandings. I'm sure the tide will swing back someday, but as of right now we are still just beginning the trek to holism, in my opinion.
I'm a big believer in language study. In fact, you can count me among the folks who would bring back traditional Classics education*. If I had my way, Rhetoric, Philosophy, Theology and a rigorous education in classical languages (Greek and Latin) would be requirements of all undergraduates. These courses used to be standard but have since fallen by the wayside in favor of multiculturalism. While I appreciate a multicultural approach, as well, what I think really happened is that universities let go of the "western civ" pillars and didn't replace them with a whole heck of a lot.
As a side note, I would require a course in Shakespeare of all students, too.
ADDED LATER:
* I realize it may be very white-male of me to support the Classics. There are other stories to tell, as well, such as Africa-American and feminist voices. But I also think we lost something when we overlook the foundation of our own culture. We gained breadth but lost a lot of depth by trying to cover so many voices. I think there is something wrong if a person makes a reference to Shakespeare or throws out a Latin phrase in conversation and can't assume that other educated people will understand. It is also a problem when as citizens of a democracy even educated folks can't filter through the rhetoric and illogic of our political leaders and the BS of our religious leaders to make well-reasoned decisions of their own. An education in the Classics is/was designed to address this. Maybe an alternative would be that every undergrad would pick a libertal arts track and stick to it, such as the Classics tract or something else--that way, they could have the depth and breath in a particular approach, but it would not be a requirement for every student to study only the Greco-Roman tradition.
It is the second day of class and I already got the alphabet down pat, including the 5 final-ending letters. How's that for kicking ass and taking names . . . er, letters?
This class puts me in such a good mood. My peak creative hours are in the morning, and I get to put them to use in a meaningful way. Squandering them at work is no small sin.
I just love getting into languages. It is one thing to read a commentary that describes the Ancient Israelites as having a holistic understanding of themselves and the world/universe. It is quite another to experience that in their actual words and thought categories expressed in language.
While the Ancient Israelites would talk of the whole person, it was the Greeks who separated people into body, mind and soul. This fragmentation deepened in the western world through the Enlightenment, assisted by the increased specialization in the sciences in our modern day. It is only been recently that there has been a much-needed return to holistic understandings. I'm sure the tide will swing back someday, but as of right now we are still just beginning the trek to holism, in my opinion.
I'm a big believer in language study. In fact, you can count me among the folks who would bring back traditional Classics education*. If I had my way, Rhetoric, Philosophy, Theology and a rigorous education in classical languages (Greek and Latin) would be requirements of all undergraduates. These courses used to be standard but have since fallen by the wayside in favor of multiculturalism. While I appreciate a multicultural approach, as well, what I think really happened is that universities let go of the "western civ" pillars and didn't replace them with a whole heck of a lot.
As a side note, I would require a course in Shakespeare of all students, too.
ADDED LATER:
* I realize it may be very white-male of me to support the Classics. There are other stories to tell, as well, such as Africa-American and feminist voices. But I also think we lost something when we overlook the foundation of our own culture. We gained breadth but lost a lot of depth by trying to cover so many voices. I think there is something wrong if a person makes a reference to Shakespeare or throws out a Latin phrase in conversation and can't assume that other educated people will understand. It is also a problem when as citizens of a democracy even educated folks can't filter through the rhetoric and illogic of our political leaders and the BS of our religious leaders to make well-reasoned decisions of their own. An education in the Classics is/was designed to address this. Maybe an alternative would be that every undergrad would pick a libertal arts track and stick to it, such as the Classics tract or something else--that way, they could have the depth and breath in a particular approach, but it would not be a requirement for every student to study only the Greco-Roman tradition.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Hiram College Reflections: Less is More
Hiram College was one of the few places where Mayberry still existed. You could run off with your friends for a late-night adventure through the woods, leaving your books and tape player on a table in a public building. You come back hours later, and everything would be just as you left it. If something were missing, it would be more likely that your friends were playing a trick on you than an opportunist looking for free stuff.
When you walk by people on campus, you would wave and smile. It wasn't to get something, but just to be friendly. Folks raised in the city would be shocked, because avoiding acknowledgement of strangers had been a survival mechanism for them.
My friends brought their spouses to visit campus for our reunion, and many were aghast. There are virtually no stores in town. There is virtually no town. How could you enjoy yourself at a place where even a midnight run to Taco Bell required a 30-minute drive to Kent, OH? The answer to this concern is actually self-evident, if you sit and think on it a bit. The massive campaign to work this out is one of college's greatest phenomena: The Road Trip--finding someone with a car, jamming as many people into it as possible, scrounging for dimes under vending machines, screaming and laughing out of car windows, getting lost on the way. If you don't see the fun in this, you are spending too much time thinking about your taco and not enough on the journey.
Hiram is as quaint as you can imagine--a perfect blend of Midwestern and New England charm. However, some of the most attractive features of Hiram were barely underway when I was a student: an tasteful chapel with gardens, a road that was eliminated and another re-routed to make way for a stone walkway, fancy new buildings, and an old dormitory restored.
Hiram has committed some sins in preserving its heritage, too. You hear about a gorgeous century building demolished to make way for a 1960s pale substitute (although by the time I went to school, those 60s amenities had taken on a retro charm). I like the replacement but appreciate what they’re saying. I would often bemoan the attention the college was paying to science and athletics, seeming to disregard its profound liberal arts tradition. Yet, it is clear that someone in Hiram has been fighting the good fight, as the Hiram I know seems as alive and well as it was then. Much has been done to maintain the charm of the place, and overall they have gone a great job.
All this is possible, because it really wasn't about the buildings.
Like all good things, Hiram is mystery. It is really tough to crack the secret of Hiram, but I will venture this: There was nothing to do. You would hear students endlessly complain about this. But when you and your neighbors learn to have fun with salt & pepper shakers while staying late in the dining hall on a snowy night, because there’s nowhere else to go (but truly no place else you’d rather be), then you have learned a lesson you can carry your entire life. Independence and personal choice are not all they are cracked up to be. Getting stuck with people and making the best of it . . . that is what life is about!
No, I’m not advocating for oppression here, only saying that dependence is the true seed of community. Sometimes being thrown into situations and having limitations brings out the best in all of us, stressful though it may be. The best gifts in life are living with a roommate, learning how to share things, finding clever ways to have fun rather than simply writing a check for it, and yes, having to put up with (and enjoy) the folks you’re with. It is learning to use your own muse as entertainment, rather than relying on your environment to provide you with the stimulus. We all have it within us, but at Hiram you nurture it.
Technology does much to isolate people, and I worry because Hiram has felt the pull of modernity, too. Doors seem to be locked more often than they used to be (and harder to jimmy, I hear). Individual dorm rooms are now wired for cable and internet. I even saw a TV set up in the hallway of a class building (to entertain commuter students??) My peers and I were caught in the middle of this transition. We heard about the infamous one phone that was available on each floor of a dorm building not long before us, and students had to work out a system for using it. Movie night was not where you invited your friends into your room to play VHS tapes, but it was a community-wide event where everyone turned out to see the film projected in the theater or on the side of a building in warmer days.
How many people made new friends because there was only one ride going to Taco Bell, and if you wanted in you would have to spend time with folks you didn’t know? I worry about all the shy students who find it easy to lock themselves into their room with private internet, cable TV and cell phones shielding them from ever participating in the community around them. I do hope that whatever makes Hiram great is still available to them.
There are many who wonder why they are unable to reclaim the joy of college in their later years. The answer is so obvious—the refuse to do the very things that made their college joy possible. They refuse to share their living space, refuse to share their possessions, and don't circulate in areas where other folks congregate. They long ago quit learning and wound down their exploring. They don't need to beg and borrow for food and rides. They drive alone in their car with their windows rolled up, wondering why they are lonely, irritated with anyone who gets in their way. A carload of giggling college kids passes them by, and they shake their head in annoyance. We all need people, but some folks don't act like it. We convince ourselves that we have matured to a new phase in life that is about paying bills and not bumming rides with your buddies, but the quiet depression we carry should be evidence that something is not right. It often takes necessity to coax us out of our shell. Blessed are the needy.
Hiram College has fewer students than some high schools. But again, the paradox holds true: While there are fewer people to know, odds are you will know more of them and in a deeper way than if you were on a bristling campus with tens of thousands of people streaming by you every day. Water, water everywhere—but not a drop to drink, as my grandmother used to say.
Hiram is certainly the Eclectic Institute it was christened to be. You have East Coast students of an upper-class background. There were also blue collar folks from about a 200 mile radius to keep everyone honest. You might even happen upon a few true local yokels. Hiram also attracts a large LGBT population, has a significant presence of international students and some playing sports. Many students are pre-med, drawn to the strong science program. I once did some calculations and realized that 1 out of every 5 males was a member of the football team (I did mention high school, right?) Its hard to believe.
Students often claim that "everyone knows everyone", but I have found that to be an overstatement. There were many I barely knew. There were times I was interested in a girl and could not figure out a way for our paths to cross no matter how hard I strategized. I had many lonely days and nights. Despite the proximity of everyone, you still had to get involved in activities in order to meet people. It was not always easy, but it always seemed within reach. I say this not to downplay Hiram or the people I scuffled with, only to point out that it wasn’t some kind of perfect life on the clouds. People were living on top of each other, and it was at times gossipy and rude--like all community.
As a final clarification, Hiram College offers a first class education. It works hard to make up for its small size and isolation by making available numerous study abroad opportunities (which are now common, but weren’t always so), excursions to local areas and by hosting worthy speakers and other programs. The claim that “there is nothing to do!” is not a reflection on the educational quality at all.
I could drop into a professor's office or see them walking on campus, and spontaneously spend the afternoon talking with them. They would accompany us frequently on excursions. It was the perfect environment for an inquisitive person like me who would often wander around looking for good conversation. Those whose only contact with professors was in class were missing at least half the show. The much-touted admissions line that "you'll have dinner at your professors houses" is a bit of an overstatement, but it did happen--But the notion that you'll have plenty of contact with professors if you choose to soak it up is absolutely true. By contrast, my sister (who went to a large state university) once called a professor at her home. The professor was horrified that their number could be so easily found and probably thought my sister was out to get her somehow. The prof quickly and anxiously got off the phone.
Hiram was a welcoming, safe stage on which to play out your life, low on stimulation but full of props. We were stranded together in a little place. A lot of people focus on the word "stranded", but those who get it understand the key word is "together."
When you walk by people on campus, you would wave and smile. It wasn't to get something, but just to be friendly. Folks raised in the city would be shocked, because avoiding acknowledgement of strangers had been a survival mechanism for them.
My friends brought their spouses to visit campus for our reunion, and many were aghast. There are virtually no stores in town. There is virtually no town. How could you enjoy yourself at a place where even a midnight run to Taco Bell required a 30-minute drive to Kent, OH? The answer to this concern is actually self-evident, if you sit and think on it a bit. The massive campaign to work this out is one of college's greatest phenomena: The Road Trip--finding someone with a car, jamming as many people into it as possible, scrounging for dimes under vending machines, screaming and laughing out of car windows, getting lost on the way. If you don't see the fun in this, you are spending too much time thinking about your taco and not enough on the journey.
Hiram is as quaint as you can imagine--a perfect blend of Midwestern and New England charm. However, some of the most attractive features of Hiram were barely underway when I was a student: an tasteful chapel with gardens, a road that was eliminated and another re-routed to make way for a stone walkway, fancy new buildings, and an old dormitory restored.
Hiram has committed some sins in preserving its heritage, too. You hear about a gorgeous century building demolished to make way for a 1960s pale substitute (although by the time I went to school, those 60s amenities had taken on a retro charm). I like the replacement but appreciate what they’re saying. I would often bemoan the attention the college was paying to science and athletics, seeming to disregard its profound liberal arts tradition. Yet, it is clear that someone in Hiram has been fighting the good fight, as the Hiram I know seems as alive and well as it was then. Much has been done to maintain the charm of the place, and overall they have gone a great job.
All this is possible, because it really wasn't about the buildings.
Like all good things, Hiram is mystery. It is really tough to crack the secret of Hiram, but I will venture this: There was nothing to do. You would hear students endlessly complain about this. But when you and your neighbors learn to have fun with salt & pepper shakers while staying late in the dining hall on a snowy night, because there’s nowhere else to go (but truly no place else you’d rather be), then you have learned a lesson you can carry your entire life. Independence and personal choice are not all they are cracked up to be. Getting stuck with people and making the best of it . . . that is what life is about!
No, I’m not advocating for oppression here, only saying that dependence is the true seed of community. Sometimes being thrown into situations and having limitations brings out the best in all of us, stressful though it may be. The best gifts in life are living with a roommate, learning how to share things, finding clever ways to have fun rather than simply writing a check for it, and yes, having to put up with (and enjoy) the folks you’re with. It is learning to use your own muse as entertainment, rather than relying on your environment to provide you with the stimulus. We all have it within us, but at Hiram you nurture it.
Technology does much to isolate people, and I worry because Hiram has felt the pull of modernity, too. Doors seem to be locked more often than they used to be (and harder to jimmy, I hear). Individual dorm rooms are now wired for cable and internet. I even saw a TV set up in the hallway of a class building (to entertain commuter students??) My peers and I were caught in the middle of this transition. We heard about the infamous one phone that was available on each floor of a dorm building not long before us, and students had to work out a system for using it. Movie night was not where you invited your friends into your room to play VHS tapes, but it was a community-wide event where everyone turned out to see the film projected in the theater or on the side of a building in warmer days.
How many people made new friends because there was only one ride going to Taco Bell, and if you wanted in you would have to spend time with folks you didn’t know? I worry about all the shy students who find it easy to lock themselves into their room with private internet, cable TV and cell phones shielding them from ever participating in the community around them. I do hope that whatever makes Hiram great is still available to them.
There are many who wonder why they are unable to reclaim the joy of college in their later years. The answer is so obvious—the refuse to do the very things that made their college joy possible. They refuse to share their living space, refuse to share their possessions, and don't circulate in areas where other folks congregate. They long ago quit learning and wound down their exploring. They don't need to beg and borrow for food and rides. They drive alone in their car with their windows rolled up, wondering why they are lonely, irritated with anyone who gets in their way. A carload of giggling college kids passes them by, and they shake their head in annoyance. We all need people, but some folks don't act like it. We convince ourselves that we have matured to a new phase in life that is about paying bills and not bumming rides with your buddies, but the quiet depression we carry should be evidence that something is not right. It often takes necessity to coax us out of our shell. Blessed are the needy.
Hiram College has fewer students than some high schools. But again, the paradox holds true: While there are fewer people to know, odds are you will know more of them and in a deeper way than if you were on a bristling campus with tens of thousands of people streaming by you every day. Water, water everywhere—but not a drop to drink, as my grandmother used to say.
Hiram is certainly the Eclectic Institute it was christened to be. You have East Coast students of an upper-class background. There were also blue collar folks from about a 200 mile radius to keep everyone honest. You might even happen upon a few true local yokels. Hiram also attracts a large LGBT population, has a significant presence of international students and some playing sports. Many students are pre-med, drawn to the strong science program. I once did some calculations and realized that 1 out of every 5 males was a member of the football team (I did mention high school, right?) Its hard to believe.
Students often claim that "everyone knows everyone", but I have found that to be an overstatement. There were many I barely knew. There were times I was interested in a girl and could not figure out a way for our paths to cross no matter how hard I strategized. I had many lonely days and nights. Despite the proximity of everyone, you still had to get involved in activities in order to meet people. It was not always easy, but it always seemed within reach. I say this not to downplay Hiram or the people I scuffled with, only to point out that it wasn’t some kind of perfect life on the clouds. People were living on top of each other, and it was at times gossipy and rude--like all community.
As a final clarification, Hiram College offers a first class education. It works hard to make up for its small size and isolation by making available numerous study abroad opportunities (which are now common, but weren’t always so), excursions to local areas and by hosting worthy speakers and other programs. The claim that “there is nothing to do!” is not a reflection on the educational quality at all.
I could drop into a professor's office or see them walking on campus, and spontaneously spend the afternoon talking with them. They would accompany us frequently on excursions. It was the perfect environment for an inquisitive person like me who would often wander around looking for good conversation. Those whose only contact with professors was in class were missing at least half the show. The much-touted admissions line that "you'll have dinner at your professors houses" is a bit of an overstatement, but it did happen--But the notion that you'll have plenty of contact with professors if you choose to soak it up is absolutely true. By contrast, my sister (who went to a large state university) once called a professor at her home. The professor was horrified that their number could be so easily found and probably thought my sister was out to get her somehow. The prof quickly and anxiously got off the phone.
Hiram was a welcoming, safe stage on which to play out your life, low on stimulation but full of props. We were stranded together in a little place. A lot of people focus on the word "stranded", but those who get it understand the key word is "together."
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Hats off to Good Professors
Humanities majors know the story: The Standard Operating Procedure for many college courses is to read a bunch of books, talk in class and write some papers. All-too-embarrassingly-often, that's it. The class conversation often has little to do with your research as you thumb through pages of a poetry book, talking informally. Profs seem in no great hurry to cover material and all-too-willing to joke around about anything at all. And sometimes those are great rambles. Freedom is a versatile tool for an educator who really knows how to turn on the magic of the classroom. But sometimes the freedom makes it all-too-easy to just crap out.
Papers assignments are often as focused as: "Write a 10-page essay on a book of your choosing." You turn it in, your professor scribbles a few unintelligible words on it, circles a mis-spealling (something spell check won't catch, of course), and says "Great job! A-". And you think: If its so damned great, why the A-minus? As long as its a good grade, you usually don't care, but geez--after putting so much effort into the paper, you crave meaningful feedback.
Then you have to deal with all your science & engineering friends who jeer at how much harder they work and how superior their academic field is to yours.
It sure wouldn't hurt if the Humanities had standards for course content like the Natural Sciences. I realize no prof wants to be boxed in by someone else's itinerary, but there are so many duds out there. Sometimes the freedom to do what you want can lure even the most well-intentioned prof into blowing off a day here, a class there, a semester there. How many times have you heard an English teacher exclaim, near the end of the term: "Well, I guess we didn't cover much of the syllabus!" and then break out in to riotous laughter. (My Hiram friends know who I mean, and I love the man too much to put his name here--besides, his were meaningful rambles.)
Hats off to all those Humanities profs who go out of their way to really mix it up.
One of my Theology profs does an excellent job coming up with all sorts of assignments. Its not just about writing a series of papers which are all the same length and depth. On the contrary, we have long and short papers, informal and formal. Sometimes we are to use the material to plan out a Bible study or structure a liturgy around a theme. We have to respond to critical questions in short essays. A common assignment is to make up an "encyclopedia entry" on a particular word that is relevant to our studies.
Make no mistake, we have our major papers, too. For those, sometimes we pour through research of other scholars. Other times, we are asked to do our own study and only consult other scholars after we have done our own independent analysis. And heck, sometimes we even write on a topic of our choosing.
The end result is that we engage the material with a wide range of approaches and methods.
Hats off to all profs who work hard to come up with challenging and interesting assignments. The banal "write pages of fluff that will be skimmed by the prof" is an insult to everyone involved.
You can often tell how bad a professor is by the length of the papers they assign. The longer the paper, the worse the professor is. If you can answer critical questions in 3-page essays you may be working harder than shoveling someone else's research onto a 15-page lifeless drone. Any time you do that, you have to consider another substance that is often the direct object of shoveling.
As Mark Twain said, "If I had more time, I would write less."
Papers assignments are often as focused as: "Write a 10-page essay on a book of your choosing." You turn it in, your professor scribbles a few unintelligible words on it, circles a mis-spealling (something spell check won't catch, of course), and says "Great job! A-". And you think: If its so damned great, why the A-minus? As long as its a good grade, you usually don't care, but geez--after putting so much effort into the paper, you crave meaningful feedback.
Then you have to deal with all your science & engineering friends who jeer at how much harder they work and how superior their academic field is to yours.
It sure wouldn't hurt if the Humanities had standards for course content like the Natural Sciences. I realize no prof wants to be boxed in by someone else's itinerary, but there are so many duds out there. Sometimes the freedom to do what you want can lure even the most well-intentioned prof into blowing off a day here, a class there, a semester there. How many times have you heard an English teacher exclaim, near the end of the term: "Well, I guess we didn't cover much of the syllabus!" and then break out in to riotous laughter. (My Hiram friends know who I mean, and I love the man too much to put his name here--besides, his were meaningful rambles.)
Hats off to all those Humanities profs who go out of their way to really mix it up.
One of my Theology profs does an excellent job coming up with all sorts of assignments. Its not just about writing a series of papers which are all the same length and depth. On the contrary, we have long and short papers, informal and formal. Sometimes we are to use the material to plan out a Bible study or structure a liturgy around a theme. We have to respond to critical questions in short essays. A common assignment is to make up an "encyclopedia entry" on a particular word that is relevant to our studies.
Make no mistake, we have our major papers, too. For those, sometimes we pour through research of other scholars. Other times, we are asked to do our own study and only consult other scholars after we have done our own independent analysis. And heck, sometimes we even write on a topic of our choosing.
The end result is that we engage the material with a wide range of approaches and methods.
Hats off to all profs who work hard to come up with challenging and interesting assignments. The banal "write pages of fluff that will be skimmed by the prof" is an insult to everyone involved.
You can often tell how bad a professor is by the length of the papers they assign. The longer the paper, the worse the professor is. If you can answer critical questions in 3-page essays you may be working harder than shoveling someone else's research onto a 15-page lifeless drone. Any time you do that, you have to consider another substance that is often the direct object of shoveling.
As Mark Twain said, "If I had more time, I would write less."
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