Edifying and/or Educational

Hello on a warm, sultry, by July afternoon,

As someone who’s spent about 85% of their life in a classroom, albeit in various roles, to say education is central to my life would be a strong understatement. And yet, perhaps surprisingly, I find myself asking has it been edifying. The simple answer could be “Of course!” The non-critical answer could be, “Without a doubt.” And the foolish answer might be its own question, “Why would I even ask this question?” Much like the students in Lincoln Douglas or Parliamentary Debate, it is essential to define terms. I do, for instance believe that education involves the acquisition of knowledge, and ideally it occurs in a way that what is acquired has a positive cumulative result. The term edification (which is used as a participle in the title) was a bit surprising to me. Not that I had no comprehension of its meaning, but as a verb, the first term was educate, and the 7 following synonyms were all related to teaching and learning. And when I look at the noun form, the same occurs, even more extensively. This pushes me to do some further etymological searching, but that is for later. It seems they are more synonymous than realized.

As a boomer and a veteran, I am on the cusp of the requisite college explosion. In my blue-collar, middle class, but still barely beyond a paycheck-to-paycheck existence, many of my classmates entered the factory life or the trades, and I had no real belief that college was in my future. And earlier posts attest, I had neither the means nor the grades that pointed toward where I now find myself. Attending college, obtaining a degree, and managing a professional position was certainly something to aspire toward. And yet, I realize now I had no idea what was required or what it would feel like if I accomplished those three things. Furthermore, the idea that I would have multiple graduate degrees was certainly no where on the radar. I had a cousin, who was older (a parental age) who had achieved this level, life as a professor, but I did not see myself in his realm in any manner, shape, or form. And yet . . . As I retire from the academy as he once did, I wonder what he thought about that life of preparing others for a path that started with achieving that educational goal beyond public education.

The reality of that accomplishment and how even those in my own family understood it was demonstrated loud and clear when I was accepted to the PhD program. I called my father, who was now 80 years old, and I was excited to tell him about my acceptance to the program. As I relayed my news, he paused and stayed inquisitively, “You are going back to college? I thought you had a job.” A bit taken back, I responded, “Yes; but it’s a doctoral program.” In his practical manner, again, he said, “I am proud of you, I think.” My one word response of “yes” was rapidly followed by a second question from my less-than-impressed father, “How long will this take? As I responded, “Four or five,” he interrupted before I could say years, and said incredulously, “Years?” As I responded in the affirmative, he asked how many years of college that would be. My response of 13 or 14 elicited yet another pragmatic statement from my startled parent. Not a person prone to swearing, he said, “Jesus Christ! Don’t you think you should be getting smart pretty soon.” There were more questions and answers, but needless to say, my path made little sense to my electrician father.

I do believe he would be proud of my accomplishment, which he did not live long enough to see, but I remember his eyes welling up in tears when I received my first Master’s. I was quite stunned and humbled by that response. This returns me to the concept of both education and edification. Life is educational; it happens daily, and often without our realization. Too often we merely muddle along with minimal to no reflection on our experiences. I have often told my students all learning is positive. When it goes well, it can be edifying and there is hopefully something efficacious, something worth revisiting. Conversely, when it goes poorly, when it creates something painful, I am positive I do not want to do it again. More importantly, some of the most significant lessons learned have been knowing what I do not want to do again. Experiencing, reflecting, and processing are foundational to growing and moving forward in life. The other important consideration is where it occurs. In spite of so much time spent in a classroom, some of my most profound learning moments occurred outside that determined space. Some of the learned things, growing moments, happened through merely going through the simple actions of being.

While there are a multitude of examples, there is one that might seem innocuous, but that was not the case. My second summer in language school in Kraków, I was put into a section that was thought to be kind because of previous experience. Because I had not diligently worked on my Polish since the previous summer, I was not ready. My two incredibly talented (and patient) instructors (one from the previous summer and one who had been our guide on the trips for years) tried to support me, but their most intentional efforts were not enough. I would not succeed in that course. It is about a week ago in the calendar year and the summer of 2019, when I wrote one of the most revealing posts in my 11 years of blogging; when I was perhaps as despondent as I could possibly be (fortunately I am not there now, and I have not really been there since.). What I remember is the outpouring of support following that post was palpable, and that is an understatement. That was, for me, both educational and edifying, which was, by extension, perhaps even more educational.

First, in spite of being in a familiar place, albeit in Kraków, a place I loved, I felt alone and displaced. Second, for someone who found most learning comfortable, I was anything but; and finally, those two things together, had me overwhelmed and feeling like a failure. The old demons of self-doubt were alive and well. With the people I felt most comfortable reaching out to 7 hours difference in time and over 4,000 miles away, the loneliness and fear were incredible. Clearing my head, managing my emotions were only possible through writing, so this forum was a salvific place. However, it was much more than the writing. Much like the reality of most theological action, there were two parts. There was my confession of sorts. However, it was the response of others where the most profound experience, significant enlightenment (truly) occurred. The comments from so many, and some I had not heard from in months or years were a potent reminder that in spite of time and distance, I was not alone. There was the educational moment. Even in our moments of being solitary, either intentional or by accident, we are seldom unconnected. More importantly, those connections are essential to our well-being.

In our busy lives it is easy to turn inward, focusing on the task at hand, but often, caught up in all the minutiae, we miss what happens around us, we lose sight of community. It is ironic that I realize the importance of that sense of connectedness when I merely take the time to retreat and think. As I ponder the changes that stare me in the face, I am cognizant of the way I will both lose a community that has been my life for 15 years and simultaneously work to establish a new one. Over the last week, I have been reaching out to some who have known me their entire lives. I am reaching out to some known only for months, and I am even reaching out to establish a new community. Most of it is non-academic, but educational nonetheless. All of it has the potential to be edifying, and as I am now realizing, that too is educational, and perhaps more profoundly so. The picture is from my little few day trip to South Carolina. The song is one of my first favorites, and about something that has always been of importance.

Thanks as always for reading.

Dr. Martin