If we surveyed our community about whether or not they felt that we should have a contemplative campus environment, I imagine that there would near universal support for the idea. But I also expect that most of us would admit that we are not really creating a place that is truly inviting of the slow pace that contemplation requires. If there is a spectrum between being busy and being contemplative, I think we would be close to the busy end of things.
This term the LTC has held a book group studying Excellent Sheep: The Miseducation of the American Elite and the Way to a Meaningful Life by William Deresiewicz. This is a provocative book that opened up some fruitful ideas for discussion. Many of the faculty and staff members in the group have found the book to be flawed in its arguments. The group included a very thoughtful group of students who made insightful comments about how the book accurately reflects some of their experience. The main themes that resonated with the students were on a high-pressure system of goals and rewards that starts well before one even begins to apply to colleges. One thesis of the book, seconded by a number of the students, is that young people are urged to participate in a grueling pattern of achievement that leaves them feeling pressured, but empty in terms of reflection and a true sense of direction for the real goals of their time in college. They describe a sense of fragility, being well prepared academically, but lacking in terms of insight that would allow them to take full advantage of the opportunities that their time in college has to offer. The students mentioned getting caught up in this themselves, romanticizing their levels of stress and even boasting about how much they had to do and how little time they have to do it. I think all of us can think of strong, well prepared students who burned out and lost their way, sometimes suffering depression and disappointment in the process.
While I also saw flaws in the book, it was this section about student pressure and how they deal with it that seemed most on the mark to me. The comments of our students had more impact on me than did the examples from the book. I don’t think that our community is responsible for the full problem. Distraction and busyness are large societal problems that cut across generations. And much of the “treadmill” experience described in the book starts in early education with fast pace studies, full schedules, and a lack of unstructured “free” time. But I do think it is worth asking ourselves how we reinforce or work against these currents, and what are the values that we would like to exemplify to our students. I don’t think it is necessary to see this as an issue of our calendar. Instead, I would like us to ask ourselves how the things we do can build a contemplative environment, or undermine that by requiring a series of fast paced steps that repeats the pattern many students experienced before coming to Carleton.
I should try to give examples of what might mean by contemplation. Sy Schuster, Laird Professor of Mathematics and the Liberal Arts, Emeritus, used to tell students “Don’t let your classes get in the way of your education”. I think he meant by this that you have to slow down sometimes, take odd side-trips, use your imagination, and trust that liberal study means including time spent on some things that don’t have obvious goals in terms of advancement. Do our students have the time, for example, to use the film collection in the library to learn about the history of cinema? Do they have time to be physically active or to spend time in the outdoors? Do they read books outside of those assigned for class? Do they have time to do even their reading for class in a careful manner? Can they find something that interests them or perhaps that fits the interests of a group of friends, and really explore that subject in some depth? Do they have time to learn from each other outside of class? Do they have time to learn by making mistakes, or does the experimentation that leads to mistakes get them hopelessly behind? Why do our students so often describe comps as a grueling process rather than as an opportunity to find their own direction in their chosen major?
I have a friend who teaches at a comparable college to ours who describes students caught in the “economy of time”. He mentions students who doll out precious parts of their schedule, making trades between one activity and another, prioritizing some while letting others slide. Lost in this is the possibility of slow contemplation, even though some things are probably only learned through a long and slow process.
I teach drawing. I firmly believe that anyone can learn to draw and that it does not require unique talent. What it does require is time and a long process of learning from making mistakes, both of which seem to me are hallmarks of contemplation. While many students struggle with this, nearly all have at least some moments where they get it. They talk to me of “time falling away”, and how good it felt to be absorbed in their work. I know that my class is not unique and that this happens throughout our school, but my question is how to make more room for this to happen consistently. If we were able to do this, it would both deepen the learning experience for our students as well as helping them to balance their lives in a healthier manner. I realize that I am not really breaking new ground with these ideas. Allotting time in our busy schedules is not a new problem. The issue might be more acute now due to the environment and the habits that frame student experience before Carleton. But I have the forum of writing this newsletter, and this strikes me as a significant teaching issue that I would like to see us discuss in more detail. I would be curious to know if others agree with me about the need for a more contemplative environment, and what would be the hallmarks of such a thing.