By Sally H. Shedd, Ph.D.
It’s Aug. 30, 2001. The Honor Convocation is taking place and I’m sitting among the faculty watching the Class of 2005 turn in their signature cards and file somewhat solemnly past selected faculty members to be congratulated. I watch Professor Nancy Montgomery establish eye contact with each student who walks by—extending her hand and offering a smile and “Congratulations.” A student approaches. Unlike the other participating freshmen I’ve watched, she’s talking to the student in front of her. Walking casually as if at a shopping mall. As she reaches Montgomery, she takes the offered hand but turns her eyes away as if the solemnity of the occasion is somehow beneath her. With a roll of her eyes, she follows her friend and returns to her seat.
This freshman is symbolic of the challenges ahead for us.
Virginia Wesleyan was founded in the 1960s—when activism and social awareness were in vogue and “knowledge is power” was a heartfelt sentiment for America’s youth. Having a passion was the norm. We now live in an age where social commitment is passé. Earning potential is power. Apathy reigns supreme.
Don’t get me wrong. Activism is not dead on our campus. Student-led groups are making a difference. Habitat for Humanity has built two homes in the past three years. The Circle K Club runs a tutoring program for neighborhood children. “Imagine,” an Alternative Spring Break program, has sent students to work with a homeless community in Northern Virginia, and to build homes in North Carolina after the Hurricane Floyd flooding. In addition, programs committed to promoting gender and racial diversity remain visible. Last year, “A Celebration of Women’s Voices,” an event featuring the talents of faculty, staff, and students, was voted Best On Campus Program. The tragic events of Sept., 2001, prompted students to organize memorial events and attend local blood drives.
Nonetheless, some of our students are only superficially concerned with their community and even less involved with their own intellectual growth. When students ask, “Will this be on the test?,” I want to reply, “No, it’s just knowledge to enrich your life and possibly make you a more valuable member of society.” Who’s going to help these students learn to be accountable for their own education? For their own choices? For bettering the lives of those around them?
In the Batten Center, there is a wall to climb. It’s 36 feet to the top—where windows give a spectacular view of the campus. The wall has three levels of difficulty: beginner, intermediate and advanced. Students are placed in a safety harness and given special shoes and a helmet. The floor beneath the wall is cushioned. The students are protected from falling by an individual at the bottom, also in a harness, holding the end of the rope to which the students are attached. If the student slips off the wall, the “safety person” pulls the rope and prevents the climber from falling. The student isn’t expected to learn to climb alone.
There’s a wall to climb at the Batten Center, and a wall to climb inside the mind of every student who passes through our doors. We don ’t expect them to do it alone. It is the obligation and (sometimes) joy of the faculty, staff, and administration, to help these students leave social and academic complacency behind. To live up to not only what we expect of them (in terms of academics, in terms of the Honor Code) but what they should expect of themselves. To be inner motivated—not by money or desire for prestige—but by their potential as sentient, thoughtful, reflective human beings. We have four years in which to teach them how to climb—in the classroom, in the lab, on the athletic field, in the studio, on the stage, at a Center for the Study of Religious Freedom program. They spend four years in the safety harness, linked to each and every one of us. And then they are on their own.
When I see that student from the fall Honor Convocation cross the stage at Commencement 2005, I hope to see a proud, confident woman, not only with recognizable earning potential, but evident human potential. Someone ready to be active in the workplace; active “in the mind;” active in the community; active in striving for personal goals; and active in the quest for social justice. She’s not only “over the wall,” she’s ready to help others climb. She knows that a liberal arts education is not something you get. It is someone you ARE.
We’ve got four years to help her get there. Into the harness everyone.