Santa Clara University

Convocation 2004-05

Reflections on the Teaching Scholar

Paul Locatelli, S.J.

University Convocation

Sept. 14, 2004

Introduction: Derek Bok, the former president of Harvard, along with a number of other educators, recently posed a serious question to the academy: "What practices provide students with the knowledge and commitments to be socially responsible citizens?"

In May of this year, Stanley Fish, a noted literary critic and former dean of the University of Illinois , Chicago , responded: "That’s not a bad question, but the answers to it should not be the content of a college or university course." ¹

Fish appears to be endorsing the position of a distinguished professor of political science at the University of Chicago who told the incoming class of 2001:

There is a powerful bias at the University of Chicago against providing you with the truth about the important issues we study. Instead, we aim to produce independent thinkers who can reach their own conclusions.

He went on:

Not only is there a powerful imperative at Chicago to stay away from teaching the truth, but the University also makes little effort to provide you with moral guidance. Indeed, it is a remarkably amoral institution. I would say the same thing, by the way, about all other major colleges and universities in this country.²

Like the professor at the University of Chicago , Fish sharply separates the intellectual purpose of education from any moral, spiritual or civic aims. He emphasizes that universities have no business forming moral character, or fashioning a democratic society. And any attempt to educate for civic responsibility is nothing more, he says, than a "mish mash of self‑help platitudes, vulgar multiculturalism . . . and a soft‑core version of 60s radicalism complete with the injunction . . . to ‘love one another right now.’"³

In Fish’s ideal university, faculty should stand apart from the political, social and economic realities that underlie the structures and practices of society, limit their politics only to academic issues like the curriculum, the direction of research, the content and manner of teaching, and focus on the search for truth and the teaching of facts, narrowly confined by one’s academic speciality .⁴ Why? Because Fish feels moral or civic education deforms the true task of the university.

We must admit Fish has a point: using the classroom to indoctrinate students in the professor’s ideology, whether it be Marxism or free market capitalism, be it liberation theology or Freudian psychology, undermines the integrity of the university. When ideology silences reasonable questions, something has gone wrong.

Dean Fish sounds like a little like a postmodern Max Weber who would limit the academic vocation only to rational and intellectual inquiry within one’s disciplinary specialization.⁵ But Fish serves a purpose in arguing that knowledge has value in and of itself, much as Cardinal Newman stated in his Idea of the University. Fish challenges us to reflect upon the academic calling of faculty – and by extension of the educational calling of staff — and the purpose of universities in general and of Santa Clara with its Catholic, Jesuit distinctiveness in particular.

From Ignatius to Kovenbach : Jesuit education takes a very different approach from the one Dean Fish suggests. From the time of Ignatius in the 16th century, learning, critical thinking, and knowledge have been valued in and for themselves, and students have been enabled to live lives of virtue and meaning. When they do, society benefits. Then, according to Ignatius, God is glorified.

Father Peter‑Hans Kolvenbach , Superior General of the Society of Jesus, has articulated a philosophy of Jesuit education for the 21 ^st century. In the Mission Church, on the occasion our Sesquicentennial celebration in 2000, he made it clear that the education of the whole person — the ideal of Jesuit education for the past 450 years — now needs to include "an educated awareness of society and culture and a commitment to contribute socially, generously"⁶ and morally to the real world.

He opened his comments on research and teaching by saying, and I paraphrase:

If the measure and purpose of our universities lie in [who] and what students become, then the faculty are at the heart of our universities. Their mission is tirelessly to seek the truth and to form each student into a whole person of solidarity with others who will take responsibility for the real world. What do they need in order to fulfill this essential vocation ?⁷

These few sentences have many layers of the meaning. But I will limit my comments to two questions. First, in the mission to tirelessly seek truth, how does one become a teaching scholar? And second, does the aim of "who our students become" as whole persons of solidarity have relevance for "who faculty become?" "Who staff become?"

First, then, what does it mean to be seeking truth? At Santa Clara , as with all universities, the raison d’etre of our calling – whether we are faculty, students, staff or administrators – is academic excellence, where the ability to think critically about questions and the world is paramount. But it is much more. It is a community in search of meaning ‑‑meaning in the sense of those human and moral truths that we can live by. Universities do not hold some inventory of truth to be doled out to students and the world. Truth is dynamic, not static. Truth is discovered and communicated in the dialogue within the community. Truth does not begin with answers, but with questions. The world and all of creation provide the grist for questions — great questions – that will align professional aspirations with living a life in quest of truth. This alignment is critical to our commitment to the ideal of the teaching scholar.

Seeking truth takes faith, for the life of the mind is a journey of constant searching. In the sciences and engineering, the exploration leads to discovering mysteries hidden deep within nature and the world, and then using science, mathematics and technology to better humanity. In philosophy and theology and virtually every other field of human endeavor, the exploration leads to understanding the mysteries of life, human interaction, society, culture and God, an exploration by which we derive meaning for our lives.

Without being bashful of being Catholic, Santa Clara style='font-family: "Times New Roman"; must be a place that raises and vigorously debates questions that many secular universities purposely avoid. To be an authentic university, we must not be afraid to debate all questions within a community that has a plurality of faiths and cultures, for that is the world in which we live and for which our students will be responsible.

Catholic universities are places where that Catholic community and Church does its best and most creative thinking; hence, it is imperative that Santa Clara be a community that raises questions about faith, life and God, seeking ways to integrate the love of learning with living a life of meaning and purpose. It is only with faith, secular or theological, that we, in some meaningful way, can understand suffering, grace, and love.

The commitment to seek truth requires a habit of intellectual inquiry, a questioning curiosity, and critical thinking to analyze root causes, to follow evidence to its logical conclusion, to develop conceptual theories, and to offer paths to improve society for all, with particular attention to their human dignity and rights.

The commitment to truth does not end with questions nor a passive understanding. Rather, truth demands an integrity of dialectic between thinking critically and acting ethically, between faith and developing cultures, between personal interests and emerging global realities. Truth will inspire us to contribute to the common good and no longer be indifferent to people suffering and dying of hunger, illness, war, or ethnic and religious conflict.

Let me turn to the second question. Does the aim of "who our students become" as whole persons of solidarity have relevance for "who faculty become?" And "who staff become?" This question specifically points to the issue of vocation.

The language of vocation is not always comfortable for university faculty or staff because it is most often associated with religious vocation. However, Father Kolvenbach is speaking about vocation in the way Robert Bellah speaks of calling.

Bellah distinguishes between a career and a calling. A career demands a commitment to the profession. One’s work and, in part, one’s life are shaped by the professional guild with its expectations, particularly its definition of research areas and methodology.

A calling, by contrast, draws into focus the tension and balance of professional work with both personal and community life. A calling gives meaning to one’s life and links a person to her professional community and to the larger community — or as Bellah puts it, "a whole (community) in which the calling of each is a contribution to the good of all."⁸

One's career can enhance one's calling to serve students, the learning community, and the good of society, or a calling can be derailed if one allows the professional guild and associations to set the agenda for who one becomes.

Superior research and teaching are the sine qua non for Santa Clara faculty. Yet, we recognize each person brings different gifts and talents. Some are better teachers. Others better scholars. Others better public intellectuals. And, others great artists.

The ideal teaching scholar, however, cannot claim to be a great teacher, and do no or little research. Nor could one claim to be a great researcher, and neglect teaching. Research requires unceasing intellectual curiosity, and the teaching scholar will want to share knowledge and truth. Knowledge not isolated from virtue but animated by it.

Santa Clara expects teaching scholars to engage in continual research and publication to both enhance the quality of the university and improve the quality of student learning.

One’s academic calling is to find that balance and integration of teaching and research that makes one better at both and gives one joy. Then, one’s calling will contribute to the common good of all.

We must acknowledge the tensions arising from demands to be a teacher, a scholar, and a citizen in the university and community ‑‑and, in the broader context, of being a parent, a spouse, a citizen, and a friend.

At the same time, we need to learn how to integrate research and teaching. Parker Palmer, in his book The Courage to Teach, provides an important perspective on an academic calling. He says it is not only about "the what, how and why questions" of teaching and research, but "who we become." He describes the dynamics of a group of faculty debating their professional responsibilities.

The house soon divided along predictable lines. One side were scholars, insisting that the subject matter is primary and must never be compromised for the sake of the students’ lives. On the other side were the student‑centered folks, insisting that the lives of the students must always come first even if it means that the subject gets short‑changed. The more vigorously this campus promoted their polarized ideas, the more antagonistic they became – and the less they learned about pedagogy and themselves.⁹ 

Palmer learned that when they stopped arguing about subject matter versus student‑centered learning and started reflecting on "who we are" — things changed. These faculty began to see how their careers, regardless of their particular interests, enhanced their academic calling within a community with diverse talents, interests, and knowledge.

This perspective of vocation links one’s professional aspirations with student learning and the contribution to the greater good of society. Herman Hesse makes this connection eloquently:

There are many types and kinds of vocations, but the core of the experience is always the same: the soul is awakened, transformed, or exalted so that instead of dreams and presentiments from within, a summons comes from without: a portion of reality presents itself and makes a claim.¹⁰

The external summons requires a commitment of solidarity – with reality presenting itself and making its claim on us.

The virtue of solidarity and students: Jesuit education invites us to find joy in educating students who form their own habit of thinking critically and independently as well as having the intellectual and moral courage to fashion a more humane and just world.

For Saint Augustine , Catholic university communities share joy and truth – gaudium et veritate – specifically for faculty in the "joy of searching for, discovering and communicating truth in every field of knowledge"¹¹ and for staff in the joy of being a professional and personal presence to students.

To be teaching scholars takes self‑awareness – understanding where we find joy, where our talents lie, where we find meaning in enabling students to develop intellectually, spiritually and morally; understanding our relationships within the communities to which we belong; and understanding our call to enhance the good of society. And, the same is true for staff because they contribute significantly to the education of students.

Our call doesn’t come like a bolt from the blue or a direct command, but as a persistent invitation addressed to our freedom and openness to who we are and who we want to become. It means reflecting persistently on our experience and then asking questions like: "What gives me joy? What draws me over time in one direction over another? What motives and inspires me?" And then, "What are my gifts and talents? How do I best use those gifts and talents?"

Seeking answers to these ever open questions takes self‑reflection and the candor of a regular reality‑check.¹²

It is the process of seeking truth that makes connections, preferring one set of ideas over others, finding the framework for moral living, and ensuring truthful relationships. It sifts out what is genuine from what is false, what is truly human from what is superficial, what is genuinely possible from what is fantasy. It is learning to discern one‘s personal experience in this time, and place and with these people – particularly with our students and who they become.

One reality check, then, that connects us with the virtue of solidarity is one’s personal presence to students. As psychologist Mark Epstein suggests: a faculty or staff member "may well have as great an impact through his or her presence as through his or her skills."¹³

This presence reflects, in part, one aspect of solidarity beyond the classroom. As Father Kolvenbach said:

Solidarity is learned through "contact" rather than through "concepts." When the heart is touched by direct experience, the mind may be challenged to change. Personal involvement with innocent suffering, with the degradation and injustice that others suffer, is the catalyst for solidarity which then gives rise to intellectual inquiry, reflection and action.¹⁴

Students learn best in a pedagogy of engagement. And one of the best forms of engagement is "being present" with them as teaching scholars and staff‑educators who mentor, challenge, inspire, and move students to learn and become virtuous persons.

Being a teaching scholar and educator, then, is not just about imparting information, not justabout attention to legal and mathematical concepts or leadership principles or political and social theories or financial markets. It’s not just about the politics of the curriculum, the direction of research, the content and manner of teaching, or the schedule of classes. But it is our call – our vocation of presence to students and colleagues and the world – where we discover that presence in who we are .

Virtue of solidarity and global common good: The person of solidarity also learns from and seeks to shape culture and society. A well‑educated solidarity does not stop with our students or only at the flashpoints, the most visible problems of sweatshops, the living wage, off‑shoring, or even the question of a just war in Iraq .

A brief word on the meaning of solidarity. "Solidarity" is the virtue, the habit of the heart, that binds us emotionally and practically to our world, local and global. Solidarity has the quality of combining a sense of justice with active compassion. It realizes that the quality of our lives is intrinsically linked with the quality of the lives of others, especially those who are most threatened or left out.

For the world of the new century, it is no longer enough to see our lives as a personal, individual quest.  We have to understand how our lives are vitally linked to the earth and all who live on it. Solidarity enables people to devote themselves "to the good of all and of each individual, because we are all really responsible for all"¹⁵

The world of the 21 ^st century calls for a different educational strategy from the 20 ^th century. At the front edge of the new century, we cannot ignore globalization.

Consider one example: the impact of the intersection of work, migration, poverty, and technology on society and on individuals. The typical picture of workers from developing countries migrating to developed countries for work, and sending large portions of their wages back to the countries of their origin is too limited – as is the border-less transnational corporation moving to countries with the lowest cost of labor, lowest taxes, and least government regulation of manufacturing.

Off-shoring, or workforce globalization, is changing patterns. Technology is changing free trade and the migration of labor markets. And the flow of capital and money and the flow of investments are affecting, both negatively and positively, the cultures of this valley and state and family life.

These trends not only raise new questions but also demand deeper and broader and greater intellectual rigor and ethical analysis. Faculty and students must understand the reality and the ethics of migration, of integrating technology, capital markets, and political structures, and of respecting and preserving indigenous cultures and the dignity of people.

Conclusion: A closing thought. On the cover of the March 13 ^th 2004 issue of The Economist is a picture of a naked African child with an empty bowl in hand, walking in the desert toward a modern city in the distance.

The lone child you see can represents massive world poverty. And the distance between the city and the child, the chasm between the struggle to survive and the promise of a life of dignity and hope. But, the image calls for more from us – to see the world as the African child sees the world and to accompany that child in her quest for human dignity and socio‑economic well‑being. That image places demands on those of us who live in highly developed countries and it calls us — faculty and staff in Jesuit education — to live by the virtue of solidarity.

In education, not only are we to preserve our humanistic orientation and the quest for intellectual, ethical, and theological excellence, but also we are challenged to embrace a global viewpoint of accompaniment with every other person suffering deeply. Doing that will change the way we teach, research, serve, and live our professional and family life, and connect with our community, Church, and whatever else we do. Then, our careers will truly become our vocation.

And, contrary to the professor at the University of Chicago and Dean Fish, we are to be — and educate our students to be — voices for those without voice, for those without benefit of human and legal rights, without medical care, or without power to share in the bounty of God’s creation.

The Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius of Loyola culminate in the reflection on learning to love God – a love that manifests itself in love of neighbor, in deeds not merely words, a love that consists in a mutual sharing of goods and self in response to the needs one perceives. It is the love that is also described by Reinhold Niebuhr in his essays on Justice and Mercy, where he writes: "When we talk about love we have to become mature or we will become sentimental. Basically loves means... being responsible, responsible to our family, toward our civilization, and now, by the pressures of history, toward the universe of humankind."

If, as Fr. Kolvenbach says, the measure and purpose of a Santa Clara education lies in who our students become, what do we all need to do to fulfill our vocations?

Thank you.