For what you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing: it also depends on what sort of person you are.~ The Magician’s Nephew
illumination in the darkness
Years ago I had the extraordinary privilege of attending an art history class taught by Susan Slade. I don’t know whether the experience was enhanced by her ability (superior), the institution (Butler U., an awesome school), or my frame of mind cerca ’92 (deliriously happy to be a student again). That class, out of hundreds I’ve enjoyed/endured, permanently changed my perspective from two-dimensional to three, which is a much richer view of the world.
To provide context, consider that Ms. Slade’s teaching methods relied heavily on slideshows. Some of you may need to research that term. Anyway, the class sat in near darkness, looking at Greek ruins or Italian paintings or some other types of antiquities and took notes. We did this so that we didn’t look like disengaged dolts during discussions. And so that when we took the test, in near darkness, looking at aforementioned types of slides, we were able to pass.
That particular class was one semester of study in a field unrelated to my vocation or even avocation. Thirty years ago. Why did it make an impression so deep that I’m still thinking about it?
Where is the promised land, anyway?
Another with honorable mention was a course on Middle Ages Religion. That one rocked my world, also, but in a much different way. My education to that point included nothing, NOTHING, about the ancient history of any religion, apart from Biblical text. Forgive my ignorance on the topic; I did pay for the rude awakening, after all. Anyway, I was disturbed by the amount of chaos and violence and ill will perpetrated in the name of God. Yes, it happens today, too, but even then we couldn’t behave? Sheesh. And why didn’t I have enough intellectual curiosity about the topic before that? My faith is strong, but it doesn’t need to be uninformed. Seriously.
All that said, the instructor was top notch and didn’t dodge questions. At one point during the semester I was concerned that knowing so much would negatively impact my spiritual life. That was the magnitude of the impact. The instructor (sadly, I don’t recall his name) assured me my faith would depart IUPUI intact. He was correct.
Eyes still open; still not perfect
I mention these classes because I didn’t just gain an appreciation for art in Ms. Slade’s class and I didn’t solely learn about Medieval atrocities in the history class. In each I encountered tipping points–tiny little bamboo shoots that forced my eyes to open a little wider and take in the vastness of my world. Especially at that time in my life, I lived in an obligation-filled bubble. I had become blind to the shapes, structures, hues and binocular vision that altered my perspective once I really looked. I wasn’t really paying attention, nor did I have any curiosity about people who do things a different way. Or why they do things in a different way.
Do I still occasionally get wrapped up in tasks and forget to see what’s around me? Yes. Do I sometimes (maybe often) assume others see things the way I seem them? Yes. I have room for improvement, but I’m working on it.
You?
