The Glory of County Roads
Written by: Betsy Shirley
When the excitement of graduation settled, I found myself in
that anxious summer between high school and college. I was working
the red-eye shift at a local bakery, nannying for seven-year-old
twin boys, earning practically nothing, and in other words,
desperate for some adventure. My friend Kelli, who was spending her
summer making lattes in a cramped café, shared this wanderlust, so
we loaded her car with tents and banana chips and prepared for a
weekend of camping in Door County Wisconsin. After assuring our
moms that we had brought an axe, we pulled out of Kelli's
subdivision, rolled down the windows, and cranked up the music.
Blazing down the interstate with country music blaring, the thrill
of adventure swept over us like the fresh air pouring through our
windows. It was glorious. After a few miles, Kelli turned down the
radio to a respectable decibel and I rooted around in the backseat
for a map. There are essentially two ways to get to Door Country
from the suburbs of Milwaukee. Our coffee-stained map highlighted a
conventional and un-exciting route that would take us straight up
the interstate and almost directly to our campsite. Though Kelli
and I were anxious to begin our adventure, we were in no mood to
waste 180 miles of unfamiliar highway on a crowded interstate that
smacked of irritable drivers and harried vacationers. The
alternative to the interstate was Route 43, a winding tangle of
county roads that traces the shore of Lake Michigan and moseys
through small-town Wisconsin. Though this route lacked directness,
it was bursting with local color. After a brief moment of
consideration, we "took the [route] less traveled by," and in the
words of Robert Frost, "that has made all the difference."
In my opinion, pursuing an education is like taking a road trip.
Some people see education as a necessary evil to get where they
want to go, while others choose to relax and enjoy the drive. And
if education is like a road trip, then choosing a liberal arts
education is like abandoning the interstate for the lure of county
roads. Unlike those who pursue an education merely to exchange a
diploma for a career, those who recognize the importance of liberal
arts know that the value of their education does not lie in what is
handed to them upon graduation, but rather in what happens along
the way.
As Kelli and I discovered, there is a lot of life on country
roads that you would miss if you stick to the interstate. When
traveling the interstate, it's easy to forget that the landscape is
connected, that crowded cityscapes slowly fade into sprawling
suburbs which melt into country towns, cornfields, and rolling
hills. You begin to believe that cities are isolated civilizations,
linked only by uniform stretches of gray asphalt, slick billboards,
and greasy McDonalds. However, when you settle into a good county
road, you begin to understand that everything has a context and
that the signs for obscure historical landmarks, the campaign
posters for county sheriff, and the advertisements for home-grown
watermelons are all part of the life that's being lived there. In
the same way, a liberal arts education reminds us that we cannot
understand the world from any one particular perspective. Rather,
we must look at the world through a broader lens and try to
understand that it all works together.
Broadly defined, liberal arts is a practice which recognizes
that the type of education worth pursing is achieved through the
study of a variety of subjects and disciplines. Unfortunately, I
think a lot of people hear "liberal arts" and roughly translate it
to mean "impractical courses which do not help me complete my
major." Viewing liberal arts in this way is like scorning a
back-road adventure because it delays your arrival at your final
destination: it violates the very spirit of the experience. The
true spirit of liberal arts does not distinguish between "relevant"
and "irrelevant" courses of study, but rather views every
opportunity as a chance to think deeply about the world.
No diploma, liberal arts or otherwise, is going to provide all
the knowledge and skills needed to excel in a particular career,
for every career has its own quirks which can never be taught. What
is more, people in recent generations change careers so frequently
that when they retire, it is often from a field unrelated to their
original career. This said, is there really any advantage to a
liberal arts education in the twenty-first century? Certainly. The
advantage of a liberal arts education is that it educates the total
person. The liberally educated person is not intimidated by
changing careers because he has learned to succeed in a variety of
disciplines. The liberally educated person is not threatened by new
ideas because she has learned how to think critically, formulate
opinions, and embrace change. This person can express himself
clearly, find creative solutions, and learn from what others have
to say. In the dynamic environment of the twenty-first century, the
liberally educated person is equipped to succeed.
That weekend Kelli and I found the adventure we had been
craving. We biked through state parks, hiked through thimbleberry
thickets, and waded in Lake Michigan at sunset. However, the
highlight of our adventure occurred before we even reached Door
Country. After stopping at garage sales, vegetable stands, and "The
World's Largest Grandfather Clock (or so it claimed), we followed a
hand-painted sign to an orchard where we spent nearly an hour on
rickety ladders picking fresh cherries. It was completely
spontaneous, the purest kind of adventure, yet it defined the mood
of our entire trip. That is the true value of a liberal arts
education: it sets the tone for the rest of your education,
creating a context which connects your particular area of interest,
your future careers, and in reality, the way you live your life, to
a much greater understanding of the world as a whole.