CLUSA-AOU 2009 Conference Report

On the first evening of this year's ChildLightUSA Charlotte Mason conference, a half-dozen nervous teens found their way into a rather intimidating board room at Gardner-Webb University. Their numbers did not even begin to fill the space. They gathered around one end of the table, settled into the large mahogany-and-leather chairs, and cautiously made small-talk. This was the inauspicious beginning of the first annual ChildLightUSA-AmblesideOnline Unlimited Conference.

The plans for this year's teen conference began almost as soon as last year's conference ended. At last year's conference three of us teens met, and we hit it off so well that we decided we needed to get other Ambleside high-schoolers and college students involved and have our own mini-conference. When we went home that summer we started an internet forum for Ambleside students and grads called AO Unlimited, and the conference plans grew as we talked with the other AO students there. We tossed around ideas for sessions and decided what we wanted to do the most. By the time summer came we had a schedule of events, and ChildLight graciously worked with us to reserve rooms and time slots. That was how a group of Ambleside students found themselves in a specially reserved room at this year's conference, meeting—many of us—for the first time.

Later that first night, after the opening plenary session was over, five of the teens sat down together in the fireside lounge and chatted for a couple of hours. It didn't take long to find out that we had a lot in common. Conversation came easily: we talked about Pride and Prejudice, Star Trek, homeschooling, Narnia, eschatology, and everything in between. (And every combination thereof. Just what were Mr. Darcy's views on the End Times, for instance?) After that we weren't so shy, so we went back to our shared apartment and played Beatles Monopoly until the wee hours of the morning.

It was so uplifting and downright fun to find so many like-minded people my own age there. I laughed harder and longer than I had for a long time. It's something special when you meet people that you click with in an hour. Sometimes when we're by ourselves surrounded by teens who go to a public high school it can be hard to find good friends who are so much like you. This conference has been the highlight of my year, and some other teens said the same. I have so many plans for next year, and can hardly wait to see my friends again!

- Hannah, 18

On Thursday, after the morning lecture, two of the teens joined some CM teachers on the panel for the workshop "Exploring CM for the High School Student." A lot of the discussion focused on how to continue learning by CM principles in college. We talked about nurturing relationships with our studies; finding life in dry textbooks; taking the initiative to go on field trips to nearby museums and fairs and rallies; finding other active minds to discuss with after class; and even finding alternatives to traditional college. It seemed helpful for the moms and teachers there to hear about the experiences of CM graduates. I know we enjoyed sharing with them and discussing how to carry CM's methods into the upper years and beyond.

Thursday afternoon, the teens had a Jane Austen discussion over tea and cakes, hosted by the Broad River Coffee Company across the street from the campus. We spent a good two hours talking about Austen's characters and couples. Why do her pairings work? Which seems like the most unlikely couple? What is the difference between a Brandon and a Willougby—and how can you tell them apart? We also talked about what it's like for a guy reading Austen: guys identify more with the heroes, even though Austen gives so little of their perspective in the books. (Guys can still identify with the heroines, but we identify with their personalities rather than their roles.)

Later on Thursday we attended the Eve Andersen Tea lecture, "On Time," about living life deeply instead of just by a schedule. That evening, we stood on the balcony of our apartment and watched a thunderstorm. As the rain flooded the parking lot and dripped off the balcony, we sang songs about the weather and talked of this and that. That night we went to the book discussion about Tolkien's short story Leaf by Niggle, led by Gardner-Webb's own professor Christopher Keene.

I don't think I can remember ever meeting so many people with whom we had so much in common. It was good for all of us to meet and hang out with like-minded peers. ...The CLUSA conference is a great opportunity for us teens, most of whom have been raised on CM, to learn about her ideas from experienced teachers and thinkers and writers. It is a chance for us to learn more about Charlotte Mason's philosophy, so that we can understand why we were raised as we have been, and why CM education is still important for us even as we're graduating and going out into the world.

- Tim, 18

On Friday two of the teens led matins at 8:00 a.m.. I mention the time because it seems extremely early when you've only had 4 hours of sleep. (But we have things to do at 3:00 in the morning--like watching The Hunt for Gollum and eating popcorn!) Yes... *cough* well... after matins we went back to our rooms and acted out some scenes from Shakespeare, and then took a traveling production of Pyramus and Thisbe to one of our moms who was alone in her room. I do not profess to be any judge, myself, but she thought it quite entertaining. This may have had something to do with our switching characters: the girl played Pyramus, the guy played Thisbe, and hilarity ensued.

Friday afternoon we had a Lord of the Rings discussion, led by Professor Keene. I heard some say that that discussion was the highlight of the conference. Professor Keene had prepared a list of questions to ask everyone—favorite character, favorite moment in the story, things like that—and went around the circle giving everyone a chance to answer. The questions provoked a lot of good discussion: some of the things we talked about were the differences between the races; the burden of immortality; the differences between characters, especially from books to movies; the appeal of Rivendell; and the importance of certain elements in the story, such as the Scouring of the Shire. It was the sort of discussion you seldom get to have at home except maybe with a friend or two who shares your obsession, whereas here we had a full turnout of nearly a dozen teens. After we finished our LotR discussion, Professor Keene gave us a tour of the theater department and showed us some prosthetics he was making, including some rather graphic but very cool wound applications.

I had a great time at the teen conference. I felt the events were organized and there was a good amount of them to participate in.

- David, 16

After that we rushed to find music and a CD player for our Regency dance lesson. The lesson went well: we had half a dozen couples and learned two dances, including Mr. Beveridge's Maggot which they danced in the A&E Pride and Prejudice. However, the lesson took longer than we thought it would, so we had less than an hour afterwards to eat dinner and change into costume before we returned for a Regency Ball. Dancing Elizabeth and Darcy's dance at the ball was another highlight of the conference. Hannah, 18, wrote this about the ball:

It reminded me of the experience of 'Prom' that public schooled high schoolers have their senior year. I had seen my sister dress up like a glamor girl for her prom, and seen her take pictures with her boyfriend, and imagined (like Cinderella in her kitchen) what it must have been like. It was Brittani's senior year too, and she had never had a prom either. I imagine a lot of Charlotte Mason teens don't. That's probably a good thing, but the importance the culture attaches to it was felt even in our separation from the culture. That is why the ball was so important to me. For that one night, I got to dance real dances with real gentlemen, and feel like the princess all girls read about when they're growing up. We had so much fun at that ball that it has been absolutely decided to make it an annual event.

After the ball we changed out of costume—or not—and went to the Broad River Greenway for a walk in the woods. (The conference does this every year; usually there are trail guides, live music, and an astronomer with a telescope.) Our walk in the woods that night proved to be the scene of some lively plotting which spawned yet another project: a film adaptation / parody of Northanger Abbey which is now halfway through production. (Which just goes to show that you can't be too careful at these conferences. You never know what brilliant or crazy ideas you might be inspired to turn into reality.)

The Charlotte Mason Conference was, for me, a wonderful chance to connect with other similar-thinking teens. For the first time in my life I was perfectly able to chat about Jane Austen, Tolkien, current politics and events, all with people my own age! And when I wasn't being stimulated by the company of my peers, I was able to be instructed on a variety of subjects by fascinating speakers. Everywhere there was a great medley of people to discuss ideas and theories with. It has inspired me to once again look on school as a wonderful opportunity and chance for knowledge, rather than as something that must be done. Overall it was a very worthwhile and very enjoyable experience—I will certainly be returning next year.

- Kaley, 16

That night, after we got back from the Greenway, we met in one of the apartments and read Sherlock Holmes and Edgar Allen Poe. Despite the fact that we read The Adventure of the Speckled Band and The Black Cat, two of the scariest stories ever written, this was actually a lovely evening. We snacked and rambled and read in character voices till deep into the night. No nightmares were reported.

That was our last official meeting. Saturday morning, before the last plenary session, two of the teens performed a piece of music from Swan Lake. Saturday afternoon, before everyone headed their separate ways, our apartment crew—the six of us and our families—met for a last farewell at the local ice cream parlour (hence the picture at the beginning). Indubitably, this conference was a wonderful experience for us all. We made new friends, got to know old friends better, and got to enjoy our favorite things with people who shared our interests. And I, for one, can't wait till next year!

Note: The ChildLightUSA Conference took place in June 2009. The first draft of this report was written right after the conference, but it has been stuck in draft for several months waiting to be published. My apologies to the contributors.

While the day is still here...

...let's not forget C. S. Lewis's birthday. Our beloved author was born eleventy-one years ago today, November 29, 1898. I don't have an appropriate quote for the occasion, so I'll just share one of my favorites.

You and I who still enjoy fairy tales have less reason to wish actual childhood back. We have kept its pleasures and added some grown-up ones as well.

- C. S. Lewis, Letters to an American Lady

Norms and Nobility ch 6 - On the Necessity of Dogma

Quadrivium (arithmetic, geometry, harmonics, astronomy) and trivium (grammar, rhetoric, dialectic) were the seven liberal arts of ancient classical education. In the middle ages, logic replaced dialectic because they thought they already had truth and didn't need to continue wondering and searching for it. Teens still go through this process of questioning and re-assessing their beliefs -- that's what dialectic is, though on a smaller and less deliberate scale. Socrates asked his students questions to niggle at their beliefs in a softened way, because anything heavy-handed is rejected without consideration by the mind. In the process, the conscience is fine-tuned. Dialectic helps the student to sort dogma from truth. (Hicks goes into 'dialectic' a lot more in this section.)

Dialectic starts with dogma. It's the opposite of Descartes, which starts with nothing and slowly adds whatever can be proved. A classical student has to accept (and love?) some dogma early on to give him material to be dialectic about later, as he seeks to verify it. The ancient classical student was expected to take on his teacher's beliefs and assess them for himself when he matured. These days, Descartes is our modern educational model (Descartes is analytical; assessing beliefs is based on doubt first) and today's teachers aren't supposed to display any bias, much less expect students to follow suit. Dialectic students never stop questioning their own beliefs and ideas. Unlike Descartes, dialectic questioners must choose one side of an argument before they can dialect about it. Descartes stands aloof, analyzing without committing to any one side, and without making value judgments before analyzing. The Descartes value-free analyzing is useful in science, but not a good way for organic beings to live and find meaning or purpose. Hicks explains how this kind of analyzing encourages knowledge without ethical responsibilty, but I'm not sure how that works, and I don't care enough to re-read to figure it out; I'll trust his conclusion.

Modern teachers sometimes think they can get students to think and reflect dialectically with classical literature, but then they ruin it all by handling the literature analytically, requiring students to tear it apart. (If you're busy analyzing literature, you're not being dialectic or asking the right questions.) Analysis is far too easy for teachers to revert to because it can be tested. Everyone is so afraid of teachers sharing their own belief for students to question, that students are taught nothing and instead asked to analyze everything as if it was all science.

Communists have focused solely on man's class status and material needs/abilities, while Americans (until recently) have accepted every individual's right and ability to think dialectically and ask the important questions about life and meaning -- regardless of their social class. Hegel, Marx and Mao viewed man as all chemical reactions and physical sensations. Education in their opinion, even reading, is to teach utilitarian skills. They ignored man's need to find purpose beyond his immediate utilitarian activity. But man is more than his utilitarian role in society and he has a right to find meaning in life.

Norms and Nobility ch 5 - Saving the Appearances

Science as a school subject is a relatively new concept. Philosophically, the changing nature of the world made the ancients doubt the reliability of repeatable observation, which is the basis for scientific experiment. They put more stock in man's reason than in nature's stability. Truth was to be found in logic, not empirical evidence. They wanted to rationalize a simple explanation for what they saw in nature. Technology and devices were seen as hands-on -- inferior to the mind.

Man's mind and spirituality were seen as being parallel to God (because He made man in His image). Thus, intellect was seen as being on a higher plane than physical. Nature and technology just weren't as important to the ancients, unless you had a need to know (such as a doctor's need to know anatomy). If you had leisure, it was considered more blessed to spend it contemplating than experimenting.

Math was thought to illustrate God's divine mind (example: a perfect triangle), so it was acceptable to think about math because it helped men to understand God. In a classical curriculum, math is not mainly a practical subject you learn to balance your checkbook or double a recipe. Its purpose is to draw men closer to the mind of God.

Ancient thinkers felt that science and technology led to greed and laziness (inventions ease man's work and make him money.) If science was studied, it was to make what they observed line up with what they had reasoned to be true or find a way to make it parallel something in man's Ideal character. Bacon and Descartes were the first to value science for itself. We view technology as a way to control and get ahead; ancients only valued it if it helped inspire worthy character. Modern technology has allowed man to sin more -- birth control, nuclear weapons, media haven't really brought us closer to truth. Modern man hopes that technology will fix man, but ancients thought man should focus on self-improvement rather than ways to ease his workload or increase productivity.

Modern man doggedly tells himself that his gadgets and progress are making the world a better place, but man is really losing something he once had as technology makes us more rushed and confused. We can put a man on the moon, but we're worse than ever at controlling our greed. Our view of education is strictly utilitarian -- to help students get better jobs.

But today's educators see classical education as old-fashioned and irrelevant. They don't care what a student reads as long as he's reading. They never ask whether a student's book is making him a better person, making him ask the right questions. Thinking through issues isn't testable, though, so such learning is deemed not worth doing.

Norms and Nobility ch 4 - The Tyrannizing Image

Ancient teachers strived towards being as close as they could to the Ideal, and everyone knew what the Ideal was, and knew whether the teacher was living up to it or not. Even today, although we don't acknowledge the Ideal, we judge teachers by how well they live up to it. But few can really define what exactly that Ideal is. It's a perfect balance between the mythologized hero and reason. Although we can't always describe it, we recognize it when we see someone who embodies it.

You can't teach it by having student memorize its characteristics. But you can show examples of it in stories -- such as mythological heroes. Discussion clarifies what makes a person heroic and challenges students to imitate. The goal is for students to reach as close to the Ideal as they can.

Times change, and some might argue that the Ideal man changes, too -- but it really doesn't. What's good and right and true in one culture will always be good and right and true. The Ideal has been questioned and challenged over history so that we think it's out-dated. Even truth itself is thought relative. Descartes maintained that only what can be proved scientifically should be believed -- and not all truths can be proved scientifically. An Ideal can't be proved scientifically, therefore, it's considered a relative concept.

Our modern education demands measurable success. Our dilemma is that we can't prove sucess on tests by raising examples of Ideal men so we claim that such a concept has little value, yet in the back of our minds, we admire strive for that Ideal.

Ch 3 - Teaching the Father of the Man

More on Norms and Nobility (David Hicks)

Before the Roman era, classical teachers weren't as caught up in political power and money. Their focus was on ideas and balance and curiousity - much like Socrates. Socrates didn't resignedly accept things the way they were as the Sophists did. Sophists were more concerned with appearances.

Isokrates was another teacher. He rejected the idea that children needed their free, uninhibited childhood sheltered from the demands of adulthoods. Isokrates looked ahead at what kind of adults they needed to be, and focused on preparing their minds for the rigors of thinking maturely. Our own experience tells us that children usually want to be grown-ups, and trying to keep them in childhood is a bad idea. Children cherish memories of progress and achievements they made in childhood more than their memories of carefree play, and that period is the ideal time to instill virtue rather than fritter away their time on idle pleasure. Isokrates gave students an ideal image of adulthood to rise to, not a pampered existance of frivolity -- nor a child-centered education that makes children self-centered.

Ancient people knew which qualities were valued in a man, so they knew what to teach. Teachers had a goal they could urge their students toward, unlike moden man who doesn't exactly know what makes a man virtuous. The period of childhood was just a step towards the all-important adult the child would become. Childhood wasn't an idyllic place to stop and dwell. Teachers would sometimes teach the hardest things first (whereas we would wait until the child was older.) David Hicks remembers his friend's piano teacher who made his friend learn a Mozart minuet as his first lesson instead of learning simple beginner pieces. But his friend went on to playing Bach and Chopin, while Hicks lost interest because of his banal lessons. Knowledge-based education places more importance on the value of what's being learned (and the child's ability to rise to the occasion) than on the child-led concern of the child's readiness to learn it.

Knowledged-focused learning (rather than child-focused) gives teacher and student a common bond of shared content and shared activity as they learn together. Ancient teachers became real mentors; there was a real emotional bond between them. Our perverted society views all bonding, passionate love as physical mating, so we can't understand the love between teacher and student as they did. Within that love, teachers expounded knowledge by talking rather than by having students read books. The teacher was fully trusted to make his students wise and virtuous. Today's teachers learn how to appeal to the immature mind instead of expecting the child to try to grasp the teacher's more educated mind. Today's lesson plans that expound the tiniest details of information give the appearance of knowledge rather than truly helping the student to learn the balanced whole.

A Classical Understanding of Language

My summary of Norms and Nobility by David Hicks

2 - The Word is Truth - A Classical Understanding of Language

Myths show that, however much myths themselves don't make sense, man has a drive to make sense of what he observes in the world. Mythos (man's imagination trying make sense of the world) and logos (man's reasoning attempts to make sense of the world) are two sides of man's mind. Myth, as far as I can make out from this chapter, is like poetry in capturing everyman's feelings and giving them added dignity and beauty. Job's suffering couldn't be rationalized, but in the poetic terms of his dialog with God, Job was able to come to terms with his 'why' questions.

Plato defined and clarified the difference between mythos and logos. It's hard to express reasoning with words because old stigmas and associations stay with words even after their meaning has changed. Words are too fluid and evolving to pin them down and make them express reason, except when words are used in a legal or scientific sense. In education, words have to be used in that precise sense to have any testable standard. So science becomes emphasized over literature, which is more emotional. Schools find it easier to teach scientific principles than vague values like bravery and justice.

Classical education recognizes the power that a word has to inspire, even when the results aren't testable. Character is caught, not taught, through imaginative words rather than rigid scientific terms. Words have power that goes beyond what's observable on a graph.

Interesting Post About Worship

I was looking for a line from a song and stumbled on this blog post. I've sort of wondered the same things in the back of my mind that he posts -- about the line between personal introspection and corporate worship (and, for myself, of feeling emotionally manipulated when everyone is supposed to sing publicly one songwriter's personal confession). I notice that the blogger is a fellow INTJ, so maybe it's a personality thing?

Norms and Nobility ch 1 Virtue is the Fruit of Learning

Part I - The Idea of a Classical Education

1 - Virtue is the Fruit of Learning (another four part-er)

In Victorian England, only the wealthy received some version of a 'classical education,' so classical education and privilege came to be seen as the same thing. By 1900, others started coming up with various theories (mostly utilitarian) to educate the less privileged, and their models were far removed from classical and its stigma of luxury. But real classical education, which is based on "inquiry" that involves curiosity and imagination, isn't limited to any one time or place or class. It trains the mind to keep asking so that a classically trained student never stops learning, and is able to follow a concept to its logical conclusion and pronounce it good or bad. Since "nature doesn't tolerate a void," the young mind is first filled with a core of knowledge using a set curriculum. That way his mind has raw material to inquire about. The curriculum should encourage logical reasoning and spark curiosity and inquiry. The student will probably be taught the right thing to do according to his culture's highest ideals (which might be considered dogma), but he will be invited to test whether it really is right against alternative viewpoints.

Aristotle is "our best introduction to the idea of a classical education." He thought that the goal of education was to produce "happy, well-adjusted individuals" with leisure time to enjoy a good life, and he saw this happening in state-run schools so that it wouldn't be limited only to the privileged classes. Learning and knowing must result in right actions, because knowing isn't passively collecting data, but actively doing. Happiness comes from recognizing good, loving beauty and pursuing excellence and moderation -- harmony with the laws of the land, and virtue. The community's political system is obligated to provide this kind of education to ensure this happiness for the sake of the community's corporate good, but not for utilitarian uses (utilitarian: making productive workers). The state owes the individual a good life of harmony. It's not the other way around: the individual is not a cog in the wheel of the state to be trained/indoctrinated to be its servant or slave.

Cultures down the ages have always taken it for granted that virtue is something that can and should be learned at school. That was never questioned or doubted. Everything else (math, science, language) was secondary. Today, that's reversed: teaching virtue is pushed aside to make room for facts and disciplines. We tell students that they can have luxuries that will buy them happiness by learning technical skills that will result in a good job. In so doing, society has shot itself in the foot -- virtue and constant self-improvement have given way to practical utilitarianism, and the result is greedy, selfish people who don't care about charitable works that benefit the community. The only virtue we demand and teach anymore is basic reasonable civility so as not to be an annoyance to society.

Ancients cultures debated whether virtue was inherent in man and only needed saving out of flawed society and bringing out the virtue within him, or whether man lacked virtue and needed it to be taught and developed in him. Technology might develop more virtue in man if it's already there, but technology could be dangerous in the hands of men who have no inherent virtue. Plato's dialectic method of questioning was supposed to bring out the wisdom already in men, and it was only the man living the unexamined life, no longer questioning and analyzing his own motives, who unwittingly did evil acts because he was ignoring the virtue inside him. Aristotle, on the other hand, thought that right actions were what developed goodness in man. Just thinking about goodness does nothing; it's the bodily behavior that makes a person good. That debate kept everyone focused on the nature of virtue and how best to produce virtuous people. Today, we no longer debate it. We just ignore virtue altogether and teach uniformity -- everyone the same.

Miss M Becomes an Author

Miss M got some animals stickers in her Chik-Fil-A kids meal, so she was inspired to write a book with a story for each sticker. She made up the words and I wrote them down for her. One sticker on each page served as the illustration, and the words were written around the stickers.

Animals Nature

Ornate Box Turtle - Mr. Turtle was out one day and saw Mrs. Alligator. He said to Mrs. Alligator, "Who are you?" She said, "Mrs. Alligator. Who are YOU?" "Mr. Turtle. I pastor people." "Oh, I see. And how well do you preach people?" "I don't know. But well enough." "Why aren't you in the ocean, Mr. Turtle?" "I'll tell you later. Good-bye."

Wyoming Toad - Mr. Toad was out one day. He ran into Mrs. Alligator. She said, "Well! Where have you been, Mr. Toad?" "Out on a summer field." "Well, where's your wife?" "She has died." "Shouldn't you be sad if your wife has died?" "Well -- I'm sorry, but I meant -- my mother." "Then you should be sadder. Mr. Toad, do you have babies?" "They live somewhere else. My wife has them."

Fawn (she liked this sticker, so she took greater care to make it a pretty story) - Miss Fawn was out one day in a meadowy field. And the grass was sweet. She ate. And the beautiful, beautiful flowers were gazing at her face. The daffodils were beautiful at the gaze. She loved to see the beautiful blue sky pointed at her face. The beautiful sky was beautiful at her face. And the day was sweet with pleasure. She said to Mrs. Alligator that she was beautiful in the sunlight. And Mrs. Alligator said that Miss Fawn was beautiful behind the wind and her white dots went away. In the daylight she went home and saw her beautiful babies eating, and she said, "My babies are cute."

Scarlet Kingsnake [which is obviously poisonous, so she worked that into the story] - The day was beautiful. We went to a restaurant. Mr. Snake said, "Ooh, what good food this is! I'll go out to the meadow. The day is so beautiful in the meadow and so I'll go to the Arctic and poison some animals. My wife will be surprised how I poison some animals," said he. "The wolves are beautiful; I won't poison them," said he. "The day is beautiful. Good-bye."

Gray Wolf - A family was born at Mrs. Wolf's house. And she loved them dearly. And she took care of them so much and loved them. "Now I'll feed them. You must stay here, little babies. Now I'll go to Papa." The beautiful wind shook her head side to side. The wind shook as hard as it could and blew their fur side to side. "Now I shall see my friends. Good-bye, beauties."

Polar Bear - The day was beautiful. And Polar ran into Mrs. Alligator and said, "I'll go to Mrs. Seal. Good-bye."

Hawaiian Monk Seal (she was excited when I told her this was a Hawaiian animal)- Beautiful days were spread upon her. The day was beautiful. She knew it. Her name was Sarah and her middle name was Maria and her family name was The Quilts. The beautiful skies were so beautiful that she gave herself a nickname -- it was Kerry.

Woodpecker - "My name is Woodpecker. What is yours, Mrs. Alligator?" The day was beautiful. She knew that. And she gave birth to two little eggs -- Sarah and Lovehearted. And the day was shining like gold. Good-bye.

Southern Florida Alligator - The day was hot and it burned the animals. They all got sunburned and they jumped into cold water and got cold and they went home. Good-bye! Mrs. Alligator threw her head to the door of her cage and said, "Well, that's the end of nothing. That's the end of that."

Snowy Owl (she insisted on seeing the numeral "3" when I had written it)- "The day is bright," said Mrs. Owl. And her beautiful sigh became a happy smile . . . because she had 3 eggs. And she said, "Oh, my, what a beautiful day," and she jumped into the lake and got cool like the others -- and then she got hot and then she got perfectly warm. Good-bye!

Norms and Nobility Prologue

I've just started Norms and Nobility by David V. Hicks. I think the book is going to make a case for classical education. This is a 4-part Prologue.

David Hicks begins by talking about a book called "The Rector of Justin" by Louis Auchincloss, in which a man tries to build a school where students will learn to know, serve and reproduce what is good and realize that their knowledge carries responsibility. But the school fails. In our materialistic culture, is such an education possible? Social theories, important-sounding scientific research and faddish educational models have replaced life's important questions about truth and justice, and old fashioned common sense. Today's people are more fluent in computer language than with age-old questions about what really matters. Our experts are not only inexperienced about wisdom; they aren't even asking the right questions, but people are too awed by their intelligence to notice. They are like raw college graduates steering a ship who are too full of their books and technical skill to respect time-honored experience. We know schools are failing and students are getting involved in drugs and bullying, but we don't know what to do about it. Hicks is going to offer a solution based on ancient classical education. Science should serve and supplement education, not the other way around.

Education reflects what its culture believes about the nature of man, and, whether stated or not, every person who writes about education is influenced by and espouses what he believes to be man's nature, value and purpose. Ancient cultures had an ideal heroic model that they felt man must aspire to, although they varied about whether that ideal was based on bravery or loyalty or duty or whatever. Art, history, science were tools to encourage bravery or duty in the student. But today's experts call such ideas unscientific. The ancients thought that attempts to improve the world with science were arrogant. It was man who needed the improvement. Even math was thought useful only as far as it helped to transform man. Our modern emphasis on using technology to change the world -- and even society and man himself -- is the wrong priority and "can only lead to mental confusion, physical destruction, and spiritual damnation." The problem isn't the world; it's within man himself. Educating man to fix his opinions or environment or circumstances won't fix the evil nature within him.

Our education strives to control our environment [engineer bridges, re-route rivers, genetically modify crops, cure disease, build a business empire] rather than answer age-old questions about our purpose in life. 'Ought' has been replaced with 'can.' Focusing on what seems do-able with science seems more productive than reflecting over questions that make us uncomfortable. Medieval men saw God as being perfect and far off, and their own world as corrupt, they were looking in at heaven from outside God's realm. Modern man sees himself as enlightened and looking from the inside out. Older cultures saw man as a servant who dared not exalt himself to the heights of his deities. Modern man doesn't feel he is out of place to rule nature and rule others.

Education today focuses on the operation of 'can' instead of the normative 'ought:' we exhaust possibilities without questioning whether such a thing ought to be done. And our lives reflect this - the same thinking was at the root of the 1960's attempt to use technology to subdue inequality in Vietnam without asking whether it was a good idea, or simply presumptuous. We teach communication skills to score well on the SAT (and other utilitarian reasons) and rarely ask why communication is necessary for us as people and as a society. [If a person can get a decent job and raise a family, does it really matter if he's illiterate?] We raise brilliant intellectuals who are too prideful to let a bad idea go. We strive to make men more efficient and productive at building and carrying and figuring, as if this present existence is all there is, and ignore his spiritual side. Good education shouldn't just teach what people want to know -- it should teach them what is right to want.

A new blog and some entries for this one

A couple of months ago, being off on my own at school, I started a blog to post thoughts and poetry and news. It's called Old Path, New Feet, if you want to look (name and location subject to change). I'm still off on my own at school, but after some thought I've decided to continue posting most of that stuff here as well. Over the next few days, I'm going to bring old posts from my new blog here to Rusticanda, and thenceforth I shall be cross-posting a lot of entries. Post-dates may fluctuate in the meantime, since I'll be posting old posts from the blog here and then editing their post-dates to match the days I wrote them.

(The moral of the story: scroll down!)

An All Hallows' Eve Tale

Once upon a time—a time not so unlike our own—there lived a man who, like all men, was a traveler. This man loved a maiden, as many men do; and the maiden loved him in return, which is more than many men can say. Nor was she an ordinary maiden, though she was a commoner, for she was as fair as autumn and as faithful as the seasons. But there are other powers in the world than Love, and not all are powers for good. So it was that the man and maiden were parted, and both were laid under binding spells that they might not go and seek one another. They remained many days in duress; but upon All Hallows' Eve Day, the man broke the spells that bound him and set forth upon a journey to find the maiden again. Twice a hundred miles he traveled, through misty mountains and over dark rivers, until he came to a town in the midst of a forest.

That was a strange place, for the town lay upon the borders of Elfland, and heavy were the enchantments that held it there. No time passed in those shadowy marches between our world and the other, but each morning dawned upon the same day, so that the folk grew no older, and the land did not decay. The force of the spells about the town was such that it was often hidden from human sight; at such times, any who found it would find only empty buildings and whispering streets. Indeed, only a few days in the year could that town be found by mortals; but All Hallows' Eve Day is of all days the most potent.

In that town, under the veil of enchantments, the maiden was hidden. Resting as it did on the border, the town had become a meeting-place for the worlds, and men named it Fairhaven, for within its walls humans and elves alike found refuge. Through its streets passed lords, ladies, peasants, pickpockets, fairies, elves, merchants, craftsmen, swordsmen, scholars, knights-errant, stranded seafarers, traveling jugglers, wandering minstrels, and others so many that the tale of them would last seven days in the telling. Among these the maiden took her place, living by her music upon the streets, and waiting for her love.

The man stopped before the gates of Fairhaven. The guards that keep the gates looked him up and down and muttered amongst themselves, for they let none pass that have not the welcome of the town's governors; and the man was a stranger. So he stood without the gates, gazing with wonder into that elfish place. Hard it seemed to have come to the gates of Faerie and be denied entrance; and harder still, for the man knew that the maiden had passed through those gates; and now only a single wall lay betwixt them; yet it was an impassable wall. Still he was patient, and waited for something to happen; and, as usually happens, something did.

For, by some way of magic, the maiden had learned of his coming. When she knew that he was without the gates, she ran thither as swiftly as her legs would bear her. And there in the doorway of the elfin city those two long parted met again, and in the twilight between Earth and Faerie the man found the end of his journey, and the maiden the end of her waiting. After a time she led him through the gates, for she had a word of passage from the governors of the town, and once within she became his guide through all the wonders of that place. The sights that she showed him there, musicians and players, merchants and craftsmen, jousts and processions, and more beside, must be left for another writing, for there is not space nor skill here to describe them. Through all these things she led him; and all that day he did not leave her side.

Yet, when the day ended, and All Hallows' Eve had passed, the enchantments that had bound the man once more summoned him away. All Saints' Day was come; the day of wonder was gone, and the man returned whence he had come. Once more the man and the maiden were separated: she went again to the town of Fairhaven to await his return; and he was borne back to a far-off land of thick and dreary enchantments. Yet even there, at times, the memory of Faerie, and of her who waits, returns to him in waking dreams. And it may be that they shall not remain thus parted: for there be other days in the year with potency against dreary enchantments; and there be other powers in the world besides those that strive with Love.

(I, Owen Locksley, son of Sir Reginald Locksley, servant of the Crown, do attest to the truth of this tale. Yet it may be that some find the story dark, and think the right shape of things hidden by the telling, and the facts obscured in webs of words. For those that make such complaint I say merely that this account is true to the utmost, as far as it goes; and for a clearer telling of the facts, they must wait for some other day. For tales take long in the weaving, even such tales as be reworkings of things already past; and a knight's son has scant time for tale-weaving.)