The Learning Curve

As Judy Collins once sang in her weirdly haunting soprano, there are places I remember all my life though some have changed. The change is this case is equal to extinction: the College of Santa Fe, a small liberal arts school in the least charming neighborhood of my very charming ex-city is about to close its doors. You could call it a victim of the recession, but that wouldn't be the whole story. The whole story is a a whole bunch of fiscal mismanagement and bad debt and missed opportunities. Still, the end result is the same. Unless something happens in the 11th hour (and this is New Mexico, so you never know, right?), there will be no more College of Santa Fe.

In the interest of full disclosure, I didn't attend the College of Santa Fe. I taught there. I traumatized countless students with my martial law attempts to teach them how to write stories and novels. ("Dialogue does two things, people - it reveals character and furthers action. If it doesn't, it isn't dialogue. It's conversation. Conversation is great for the dinner table, but not in a book. Repeat that after me, please.) Oh me and the College of Santa Fe - we were tight. I went to readings on the campus, and I briefly dated a professor (although the less said about that, the better). I was good friends with those who had passed through those gates. Sure, I once suggested that the motto of the school should be changed to: College of Santa Fe: We're Everyone's Safety School! Just kidding, CSF. We had our ups and downs, but the college and I shared what might be defined as a typical long-term relationship: Time together, laughter, memories. Even after we broke up and I moved away, I never thought of a final goodbye. Colleges don't die.

Apparently they do. But the real question is whether CSF and other schools that are hurting in these economic times really deserve to live. I mean, what is a small liberal arts college for, anyway?

When I taught at the University of Arkansas, I was often bemused by the grade groveling that went on. "I need a B+ to get into the Accounting program because if I don't I'll never be able to get a job and feed my family and y'all will have the death of a half-dozen little starved babies on your head!" You know, that kind of thing. I didn't fall for it. My job was to teach them how to write. Getting into the Accounting program was out of my jurisdiction. Let's face it, I had a funny idea about education. I thought they were there to learn. I know, right? Weird.

They didn't know what to make of me. One of my student evaluations actually said: "She does not know God." (Well, not personally. But I'm sure She's very nice.) How about this one, burned into my memory: "I don't like the big black boots she wears to class. She needs to dress up more female. Also she gives too much homework. She never lets us leave early. She grades too hard." On the other hand, many years later I discovered an old student was my friend's husband's brother in law. (Are you getting that?) After talking at a Christmas party, we realized that he had been in my class. How? He remembered my clunky black boots. I'm not making this up, people. Oh, and he also remembered one of the stories that he had read in my class. So although I "never let them leave early" and "I graded too hard" at least one of my student's could talk intelligently about a story he had read fifteen years ago. That's evidence that I actually participated in a liberal arts education - whether they dropped out or became accountants. I bet one or two might have picked up some books not written by Danielle Steele or Steven King just to see what I was forever yapping about in class.

See, along with the bizarre idea that the removal of a baby foreskin should be celebrated with deli platters and some nice corned beef at a Bris, my culture truly values learning. That's learning and not "advanced degrees." I have them. So does my sister. But we were not only honor students, we were dragged through every museum within a 500 mile radius. We were supposed to ask questions. We are both critical thinkers. As far as I'm concerned, whether you plan to be a stay at home mother or a marine biologist, there's no mileage in ignorance.

Which brings me back to: What is a small liberal arts college for? Why slap down all that tuition? Why send your children there when they want to get dumb degrees in English or History or Art or Film that won't lead into good paying jobs immediately after graduation? I'll tell you why. Because a liberal arts education, wherever you find it, is not about a career - it's about learning. It's about waking up a sleeping mind, and getting excited about intellectual discovery. I'm not saying that the College of Santa Fe is the best example of this, but as far as I'm concerned the idea is pretty valid. I don't want that concept to vanish into big universities where the object is high grades and higher pay. Call me crazy, but I want my tax dollars to go into higher thoughts.

So College of Santa Fe, I'm sorry for all those fights we had and the times I didn't appreciate you. I'm sorry for ribbing you about the way the film students always dressed in black and smoked. I apologize for the way I complained about drafty classrooms and that time I had to teach in a basement room with no windows. You were a good egg, CSF.

Rest in Peace.