Articles From The Classical Teacher
How
to be a Student
by
Bryan Smith
Bryan Smith is the headmaster of St. Peter's Classical School in Fort Worth, TX.
In so many of the public conversations in America lately
on ways to improve our educational system, people seem to
focus on things like buildings, computers, audio-visual equipment,
teacher training, and so on. All of these things have varying
degrees of importance in the overall project of getting people
educated, but I am always reminded of the words of an old
professor I once heard who said, "All you really need
are teachers, books, and students." This will certainly
sound simplistic, if not downright unrealistic, but I do think
the statement embodies a truth so simple we often miss it:
for education to happen, someone must be teaching and someone
must be learning.
I would like to focus on the second part of this proposal
because it is one that is often either neglected or grossly
misstated. Regardless of anything else that may take part
in getting you educated, one thing is absolutely necessary,
and that is that you yourself must assume the part of a student
in order for the other elements to have any genuine effect.
Furthermore, by student I do not mean merely a person sitting
at a desk, doing his assignments, and calculating his average.
Everyone goes to school in some manner or other, but not everyone
is, in truth, a student.
Think of the gospel story of Christ teaching the multitude on
a hillside. Who could have been teaching a more important lesson?
And yet his listeners wandered ignorantly away by the thousands
with little more understanding than they had before he spoke.
Most of his audience was apparently content to remain in this
unenlightened condition. Maybe they blamed the instructor for
the lack of clarity. Nevertheless, away they all went--all, that
is, but a handful.
A small band of fellows lingered after the crowd had dispersed
to ask what in the world Jesus meant by his cryptic lesson. Those
were the disciples; those were the genuine students. It was
not enough for them to say that they had heard the master speak.
They wanted understanding, and they made it their own project
to go after it. At some time or other, if you are going to be
a real student, you must take your education on as your own
project--something you pursue on your own, rather than something
to which you are driven by parents and teachers.
Another aspect of the genuine student is the willingness to
admit one's own ignorance. Socrates, a fellow we now remember
as a great philosopher, never actually claimed to be wise, but
always insisted that it was his knowledge of his own ignorance
that opened to him the possibilities of learning.
Sometimes in school we are afraid to admit what we don't understand
something. We don't want to look ignorant or foolish in front
of others. We want to protect ourselves at such a moment with
a smile and a nod, quietly pretending that we understand what
we do not. This is a deadly habit. Your confusion will only
be compounded as more and more incomprehensible words pass over
you. Remember Socrates. Humble yourself and say, "I don't
understand. What do you mean when you say that?" Don't
be afraid to appear ignorant; in fact, declare ignorance as
your condition and you will suddenly be freed to learn in ways
you could never have imagined while you were busy protecting
your pride.
| Socrates
never claimed to be wise, but always insisted that it
was his knowledge of his own ignorance that opened to
him the possibilities of learning. |
Three examples stand out to me as stark illustrations of
another characteristic of a genuine student. The first is
that of Rabbi Hillel, who came to Jerusalem as a young man
to study at the great rabbinical academy there. His family
lived meagerly so that he could attend lectures in the evening.
Once, due to his poverty, he was unable to pay his tuition
and could not be admitted to class. Nevertheless, after an
especially severe night, he was found shivering and numb in
the windowsill to which he had crept in order to hear the
evening lecture.
The second example is more famous: Helen Keller who, though
blind and deaf, learned to read, went to college, and wrote
several amazing books. She collected an extensive library in
Braille. So great was her thirst for knowledge, she sometimes
read until her fingers bled.
Finally, a more recent example. The famous cellist Pablo Casals
described his approach to learning pieces of music as a continuous
effort to break the piece down into smaller and smaller parts
until he could master every detail. This is far from the slip-shod,
overview mentality to which we can so easily succumb. A genuine
student focuses on the details, seeking to master the minute
parts, which can then be reunited in a truly admirable whole.
Look for the beauty and the brilliance in the smallest parts
of the things you study. Why are the numbers square? Why does
Tennyson use a singular verb at the end of his poem, "The
Flower"? Which end of the phospholipid is hydrophilic,
and why? Never assume you are finished, and always pursue your
studies in increasing degrees of detail.
You will only get the riches of understanding and wisdom by
wielding an intellectual pick and shovel. You can do it, but
it is your job to do. Make your education your own project,
admit your own ignorance, allow no excuses, and focus on details.
If you could start cultivating these four characteristics, you
would be well on the way to becoming a genuine student.
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