Conservatively Speaking, Choose the Liberal Arts

I am not outspoken on party politics, presidential candidates, or the economy.  One area where I cannot be silenced is on the importance of a comprehensive liberal arts education.  I have had frustrating conversations over the years with those who steadfastly refused to understand my own personal educational choices.  When my son chose sociology as his college major, I thought it an exceptional fit for his interests while my mother simply asked, “Is that pre-something?”  “He is pre-life,” I would answer.  In fact, I have always encouraged my kids to think about college as a place to try new things.  It is only four years in your life, after all, and it may be the last time you have free rein to explore the spectrum of your likes and strengths.   It is a gift to enjoy in the moment, because (as we fifty-somethings can now attest) you never get those years back.

Having just gotten my last kid off to college, I have observed my share of young angst in the last few years.  Kids today are under enormous pressure to achieve, to excel, and to eclipse their “friendly” rivals.  I have witnessed firsthand the structured environments and rigid standards that many parents set—pushing their sons and daughters to a competitive level that I find both exciting and disturbing.  That some kids are able to thrive under this sort of weight is remarkable, and their records of success serve to reinforce the pattern.  Yet while conducting college interviews over the last dozen or so years I have become alarmed at the relative few who are truly enlightened and inspired by what they have experienced along the way.  I am sad to report that many admit to being motivated by their parents’ goal-setting rather than an inner drive.  Many also feel compelled to follow parental footsteps, or limit their educational plan to a few parent-approved professional paths.  Too few have had the opportunity to try and fail at multiple things, or to indulge a wild hair; they lack the life lessons that accompany such trials, and it shows.

Kicking and screaming, I have always resisted attempts to be put in a box—whether as a child, a young adult, or later as a professional.  I enjoy wearing many hats—often at the same time.  To this day, when someone asks me what I do, I stumble a bit before answering.   Depending upon the day or the year, I am a pianist, a strategic planner, semi-retired, a consultant, a Web designer, a business planner for healthcare start-ups, or just someone who likes to cook.  Growing up I wanted to do many things; most of them involved art, design, music, and all manner of creative enterprise.  Had I been forced to make a vocational or pre-professional commitment as I entered college, I cannot imagine what it would have been.  Not only was I not interested in continuing with the piano—which was the only precursory skill I possessed—I could never have foreseen my later fascination with health policy, nor could I have aspired to work designing how as-yet-unknown technologies would elevate the healthcare industry.  In short, I would not have projected the course that I eventually travelled.  It was not the road not taken; it was the road not yet imagined.

We place a lot of emphasis on developing science and math skills in our society today.  I agree that we need to elevate the critical mass of experts in these areas to remain competitive as a nation; however, we should not be duped into believing that all our economic woes will be cured with a new breed of high-test-scoring science and math kidbots.  The liberal arts get a bum rap in many corners as irrelevant, self-indulgent, and leading to careers that require a vow of poverty.  I was a music major—mainly because I planned not to continue in music professionally and wanted closure.  I chose, however, to pursue this at a liberal arts college rather than a music school.  This gave me the freedom to take a wide variety of courses across every discipline.  Some, like art history, Shakespeare, and the history of Medicine, were spectacular.  Others were less so.  I struggled through a couple of classes on ancient and moral philosophy.  While I hated laboring through the endless readings—though not the readings themselves—these classes exposed me to the vastness of the intellectual world.  It was here that I learned to differentiate and contrast ideas and points of view.  This gift of the humanities turned out to be my most vitally important skill in the corporate workplace.  In any career, you need the ability to communicate clearly about your area of expertise, as well as to argue your observations and recommendations effectively.  I am well aware that science and math also work to hone analytical skills, but it is essential that as we foster the ability to think, to observe, to question, and to articulate, we remember to do so qualitatively and not just quantitatively.

And if my kids are reading this, remember to use this time to find what inspires you. 

Tomorrow's blog:  Housework:  Think Upon It, With a Sonnet