Our Unbearable Lightness of Being (Why We Exist)
By Steven Rybicki and David Shaw
(Reprinted from the inaugural issue)
When we arrived at Patrick Henry College as freshmen, we knew that we had all the right answers. College, we deduced, would be a good opportunity for us to iron out some minor epistemological details. Cocky and eager to impress, we were quick to assert ourselves; resolutely explaining our opinions, our "knowledge." We spoke arrogantly, desperate to display our wisdom, but really only revealing our engrained insecurities and overall naiveté. We were dogmatic, excited to argue—not to learn, but to demonstrate superiority. Both of us exuded a divisive arrogance which manifested itself in a convert-or-kill mentality. We had little tolerance for those with whom we disagreed. We cannot over-emphasize the height of our folly: to paraphrase Bob Dylan, we knew about Man, and God, and Law, and we knew that we were the brains behind it all.
Then, our classes started to have their effect. Initially, we offered our pat, Sunday school answers. And for those dutiful purges of recycled ignorance, we received poor grades. Those mediocre marks from genuinely unimpressed professors shook our smug attitude. Our interaction with the faculty at PHC led to a deconstruction of our pretensions and laughably simplistic presuppositions. It began to dawn on us that our "knowledge" was terminally deficient. Both of us being motivated perfectionists who genuinely fear any form of "failure," we started seeking to learn.
The genesis of this organization lies in the essential fat that our professors have offered sensitivity and guidance hand-in-hand with their constructive and complete devastation of our intellectual "accomplishments." Our professors pushed us and, in doing so, provided us with an opportunity to learn, grow, and
mature. We owe them a debt we cannot easily repay.
The beauty of a liberal education is not the knowledge accumulated, but the chance to learn how to learn. To be completely honest, we are still in the process of discovering the proper questions. Consequently, it is apparent that our goal is not to find or assert "answers," but to discern how to continue to uncover and posit the right questions. Perhaps the most important thing we now know is who little we actually knew. In this environment, we have discovered the virtue of critical reflection. Hopefully, enough of our ineptitude and folly has been stripped away so that we are in a better position of demanding and understanding internally coherent, intellectually accomplished conclusions.
With our minds broadened we are now beginning to sense the immensity and complexity of the world around us. Accordingly we acknowledge the immaturity and childishness of our previous assumptions. When we were children, to echo St. Paul, we spoke like children, thought like children, reasoned like children. In our time at Patrick Henry College, we have resolved to give up our childish ways.
With this background, the Alexis de Tocqueville Society exists to foster and further the spirit of critical reflection that has given us and continues to give us so much. We are not a group of people who have arrived; our goal is not to substitute sophisticated arrogance for simplistic arrogance. Rather, we want to create a context wherein we can continue to mature and where we can help to cultivate collective intellectual growth on campus. So, we invite you to join us as we begin to discover what it means to pursue Beauty and Truth.
(Reprinted from the inaugural issue)
When we arrived at Patrick Henry College as freshmen, we knew that we had all the right answers. College, we deduced, would be a good opportunity for us to iron out some minor epistemological details. Cocky and eager to impress, we were quick to assert ourselves; resolutely explaining our opinions, our "knowledge." We spoke arrogantly, desperate to display our wisdom, but really only revealing our engrained insecurities and overall naiveté. We were dogmatic, excited to argue—not to learn, but to demonstrate superiority. Both of us exuded a divisive arrogance which manifested itself in a convert-or-kill mentality. We had little tolerance for those with whom we disagreed. We cannot over-emphasize the height of our folly: to paraphrase Bob Dylan, we knew about Man, and God, and Law, and we knew that we were the brains behind it all.
Then, our classes started to have their effect. Initially, we offered our pat, Sunday school answers. And for those dutiful purges of recycled ignorance, we received poor grades. Those mediocre marks from genuinely unimpressed professors shook our smug attitude. Our interaction with the faculty at PHC led to a deconstruction of our pretensions and laughably simplistic presuppositions. It began to dawn on us that our "knowledge" was terminally deficient. Both of us being motivated perfectionists who genuinely fear any form of "failure," we started seeking to learn.
The genesis of this organization lies in the essential fat that our professors have offered sensitivity and guidance hand-in-hand with their constructive and complete devastation of our intellectual "accomplishments." Our professors pushed us and, in doing so, provided us with an opportunity to learn, grow, and
mature. We owe them a debt we cannot easily repay.
The beauty of a liberal education is not the knowledge accumulated, but the chance to learn how to learn. To be completely honest, we are still in the process of discovering the proper questions. Consequently, it is apparent that our goal is not to find or assert "answers," but to discern how to continue to uncover and posit the right questions. Perhaps the most important thing we now know is who little we actually knew. In this environment, we have discovered the virtue of critical reflection. Hopefully, enough of our ineptitude and folly has been stripped away so that we are in a better position of demanding and understanding internally coherent, intellectually accomplished conclusions.
With our minds broadened we are now beginning to sense the immensity and complexity of the world around us. Accordingly we acknowledge the immaturity and childishness of our previous assumptions. When we were children, to echo St. Paul, we spoke like children, thought like children, reasoned like children. In our time at Patrick Henry College, we have resolved to give up our childish ways.
With this background, the Alexis de Tocqueville Society exists to foster and further the spirit of critical reflection that has given us and continues to give us so much. We are not a group of people who have arrived; our goal is not to substitute sophisticated arrogance for simplistic arrogance. Rather, we want to create a context wherein we can continue to mature and where we can help to cultivate collective intellectual growth on campus. So, we invite you to join us as we begin to discover what it means to pursue Beauty and Truth.
posted by Tim Hoskins at 7:00 PM
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