Teachers are dedicated individuals. They are willing to take our children from their earliest years, and labor diligently to transform them into model citizens – clear-thinking, well-educated, perceptive, sophisticated. They teach our children math, reading, science, history, literature and world affairs. They have the expertise in fields of which parents can barely scratch the surface. And somehow they come up with the resources and energy to take them far afield, to the aquarium, the State Capitol, the museums. What would we do without them?
Naturally, there will always be a few bad apples in among the barrel of exceptional educators – the undereducated, the abusers, the lazy. Realizing such teachers can only damage the system, the administration will try to locate these and reprimand them, remove them, reeducate them, or reassign them, a task which is often made more difficult by tenure.
As the students grow older, the scope of the teacher’s task in enlarged, until at college level, there are few areas in which an educator, any educator, would not feel it is his legitimate duty to correct, enlighten, instruct or counsel. College students will soon be released into the world and, by that date, they should be qualified for adulthood.
What adulthood requires, the parameters of maturity, have varied over the decades. But among secular educators of the past century, one task stands out clearly: students must be taught to deal with reality up front and not be deceived by false concepts and superstitions. Any instructor who is unable to convince her students that the earth revolves around the sun, or that black cats across one’s path spell disaster, or that crossing one’s fingers brings good luck, has failed as a teacher.
This is the Enlightenment view, the modernist view, and it has held sway over education for more than a century. The Positivist philosophy, that “what we see is what we get,” easily equates all reference to the supernatural as superstition. One can imagine how frustrated a good teacher might be when a student comes to them holding stubbornly to the concept that the universe was created in six twenty-four hour days. Is it a question of the student’s ignorance or her disobedience, and how might it best be remedied? Many heated battles between high-school administrations and School Boards have been fought over this issue.
However, by college level, all that is, supposedly, behind us. The educators have succeeded at their task, and the students know to keep their opinions to themselves. But have the teachers really triumphed? Every so often, there comes a student who believes in the supernatural, or that the earth was created in six days, or the Jesus is still alive. For the educators, this is even more frustrating than it was in the high schools: these students should know better! And, therefore, the corrections tend to be even more harsh and insistent – Stop believing in that or you will not graduate! Or pass this course! Or get an “A!” Only stupid, uneducated, or brain-dead people believe those things, and no student of mine will leave my care until I have cured you of this disease. I care about you too much!
The critiques can get creative: “Why do Christians even bother to study genetics when they don’t believe in evolution?” “Why do Muslims bother taking Political Science classes when all they want to do is blow things up?” “Any student of mine who attends a lecture in the Big Bang and the Origins of the Universe will automatically fail this class.” “Catholics who don’t use birth control are ruining our demographics.” “Jewish bankers are undermining the economy.” “Mormons are deluded.” “It’s all right for African-Americans to believe in God, since they’re not smart enough to know it’s impossible.” “Students are supposed to lose their religion in college. That’s how they reach maturity.”
The campaign is partially successful. Many college students do give up their faith during these years. I did, as a result of Berkeley’s gentle ministrations. The number of believers drops from 50% on entrance to 20% four years later. And many more young people are left feeling stupid, wrong, and bad about themselves, their parents, their parish, and their ethnic heritage.
Richard Rorty outlined the teacher’s task pithily, as only Rorty can do. Students, he says, are fortunate to “have escaped the grip of their frightening, vicious, dangerous parents,” and end up in the care of university professors who are planning “to arrange things so that students who enter as bigoted, homophobic religious fundamentalists will leave college with views more like our own.” He warns those parents that “we are going to go on trying to discredit you in the eyes of your children, trying to strip your fundamentalist community of dignity, trying to make your views look silly rather than discussable.”*
And that, of course, is exactly what we want from a great university.
*”How Richard Rorty Found Religion,” First Things, May 2004, Jason Boffetti.
