Winter 2005
December 15, 2005
Friends of Westminster College:
I confess that my semi-regular letters to you are normally designed to enhance your view of the college. So I usually write about a specific program or achievement with the hope that you will be impressed by the kinds of things we are doing.
But as we approach the holiday season, I am inclined to think more about the world in which the college operates than about the college itself.
This is, of course, a season of celebration. And as I sit here in my study—with Mary in the next room reading a book, waiting for the arrival of children who live too far away and whom we see too infrequently—there certainly is much to celebrate. But when I look beyond my own blessings and think about the state of the world, I get concerned. Like most of you, I am well insulated from the widespread poverty, illiteracy, violence, and disease that occur across large segments of the globe. We know those problems are complex, and there are no simple solutions, but still we all want to do what we can to help. In fact, I suspect we all feel a deep sense of responsibility to search for solutions, or at least pathways toward them, no matter how complex or intractable the problems seem to be.
I have spent my entire professional life as an educator. I chose this career because I believe that education is one important way to make the world a better place. Over the last thirty years, I have worked as a faculty member or administrator at seven different colleges and universities, large and small, public and private, in seven different states. And over the years, I have become more and more convinced that there is a type of education that has enormous potential for transforming the lives of students, and, in turn, transforming the world in which we live.
The type of education I’m referring to is known as a “liberal education. It is most commonly found at small, residential “liberal arts colleges”, although today, it is practiced in varying degrees at many colleges and universities. Historically, liberal education was a curriculum practiced by the ancient Greeks and Romans and was designed to develop powers of intelligence, observation, reasoning, and imagination. Today, it is an educational approach that focuses on the process of learning as well as on what is learned, on active engagement rather than rote learning, and on the quality of the questions we ask as much as the correctness of the answers we develop.
As I am sure you know, a liberal education does not seek to inculcate a particular partisan or political orientation. Instead, it seeks to free students from sloppy thinking and blind acceptance of “conventional wisdom” by encouraging them to test assumptions and subject ideas to critical examination.
Students who experience a liberal education, I submit, are well prepared to understand and address problems and take advantage of opportunities, whether they occur in our own communities or across the globe. They have learned that policy questions are complex, that motives are mixed, that shades of grey dominate the landscape, and, most importantly, that while almost all of us have a little piece of the truth, almost none of us have all of it. They have learned to respect differences of opinion—to recognize that one can learn from those with whom they disagree and disagree with people without having to diminish their intelligence or denigrate their values.
A liberal education helps students understand that compromise is not surrender and that concessions can be made without abrogating fundamental beliefs. They do more than tolerate diversity, they actively seek to experience it and learn from it and, as a result, are enriched by it. And I believe they understand that, while force may at times be necessary, it rarely resolves things for very long. Students who have experienced a liberal education also understand that they are part of something larger than themselves. They are members of a community, of a society, of humanity itself. They have internalized a global consciousness, a sense of social responsibility, and sensitivity to ethical concerns.
Such traits don’t develop by passively listening to lectures. Rather, they happen when students become partners with their professors and take responsibility for their own learning. It happens when students travel and study abroad, when they participate in volunteer activities and service learning experiences, and when they become investors in their own long-term development, rather than simply consumers of courses and programs leading to a degree.
At Westminster, we insist that all students experience a liberal education to complement whatever professional course of study they pursue. We, and they, see the benefits that result. For example, I won’t soon forget one student who graduated last year with a major in Business and Economics and a minor in Spanish. He applied for and received a Truman fellowship and, with his diploma in hand, traveled to Cairo to study Arabic. Part of the reason he received that prestigious award was because of the convincing argument he made that if we learn to communicate with the Arab world—in their language—we might come to understand them, and they might come to understand us. It was all part of an effort, as he said in an essay that accompanied his fellowship application, to “relegate current levels of enmity to debate rather than to violence.”
That kind of student gives me hope. So, despite all the problems we face and all the challenges we must confront, knowing that a liberal education at Westminster College played an important role in shaping his development gives me an extra reason to celebrate this holiday. I share these thoughts with you so that they might add hope and joy to your holiday celebrations.
Mary and I wish you and yours the very best.
Best regards,
Michael Bassis