Mediating Disconnected Communities with a Liberal Arts
Education
Written by Jennifer Redmond
In the midst of an Indianapolis evening, nothing
makes you more aware of your surroundings than the homeless on
38th street, or the police vehicles blocking the road on
your way home. Whatever the cause of this chaos, you will most
likely find out on tonight's news. Yet, nothing makes you
feel small like all of these issues overwhelming the sidewalks
around you, and nothing makes you feel more relieved than knowing
you can safely breeze by them in your car. It is these day-to-day
scenes that are analyzed and statistically configured into
textbooks and newspaper articles at schools, businesses,
and non-profit organizations. But if, as Henry David Thoreau once
said, "A truly good book teaches me better than to read it. I must
soon lay it down, and commence living on its hint. What I began by
reading, I must finish by acting," then perhaps all understanding
of the world begins with the fundamental steps of reading and then
experiencing. And that is exactly what I learned from reading
Gang Leader for a Day by Sudhir Venkatesh.
Vankatesh, a graduate sociology student, was
assigned the mundane task of gathering data about impoverished
neighborhoods via a multiple-choice survey. However, he
turned numbers into faces by risking his life every day, getting to
know people rather than focusing on data. Over the course of
ten years, Vankatesh became friends with the leader of a
crack-dealing gang, lived with inhabitants of the Chicago housing
projects, and learned undisclosed information about the inner
workings of a community so often deemed an "urban war zone." In
short, Vankatesh became not only a student of sociology, but an
activist wanting to identify with the "subjects" too often depicted
in the context of empirical statistics, not as human beings.
His approach revolutionized how students of the liberal arts
gather information within fields such as sociology.
Four years at Butler University has taught me two
important lessons about activism. These lessons, which are
similar to Vankatesh's philosophy, show how liberal arts students
are trained to enter into debate with "the facts" and blaze new
trails to find their own answers. First, learning is more
about questioning than acquiring knowledge. Knowledge may be
the key to finding similarities between cultures, communities, and
individuals, but a curious outlook is necessary to becoming an
active participant. Butler is a special place because it is a
cultural smorgasbord: there are foreign language classes, global
and historical studies, a diversity center, and students engaged in
philanthropy. With such an outlook, one can't help but
realize people are meshed together by a universal connection to
understanding and improving the human condition. Secondly,
through the discussions so typical in Butler classes, I have
learned that the liberal democracy in which we live allows us the
freedom to write, speak, or advocate for anything we choose.
This being said, perhaps the reason so many people feel
disconnected from today's current events is due to a lack of
broad-mindedness that comes from knowledge. Such a deficit
allows democratic freedoms to be taken for granted.
Service-learning has opened my eyes to new
opportunities for activism. Before I came to Butler my idea
of an activist was someone who was properly trained, had a specific
political goal in mind, was either "pro" or "anti" establishment,
and was not tolerant to others' point of view. In the fall of
my senior year at Butler, I joined Back on My Feet1 and found myself wanting to know the stories behind
people so desperate for a new start. As I ran and engaged in
dialogue with these people, I did not consider myself an activist
because my fellow runners were my friends. Despite our
different backgrounds, educations, ethnicities, or religions,
reaching the finish line is what we had in common. As I
helped others improve their life, I improved mine as well.
Prior to Butler, I would not have had the
capacity or background knowledge to understand the issues behind
homelessness, drug abuse, and recovery. Yet, because of the
variety of classes I took (involving discussion and/or
service-learning), I was able to feel compassion toward what we, as
a society, often see or hear about only through the media.
Perhaps another reason we feel so disconnected lies in the media's
tendency to overload us with data. Data disconnects us from
the reality of life and produces an illusion. For activism to
exist compassionate human interaction is required. No sense
of obligation will lead the true activist to bring about the
desired change. And, admittedly, without personally engaging
in the circumstances it is hard to feel compelled by the issues
brought up in newspapers, television, the radio, or
books.
Events such as the Occupy movement,
"right-to-work" rallies, abortion debates, and environmental
protests beg for a public response. Yet, despite the fact
that not everyone is an activist, the media insist that we react
rather than think during tumultuous times. As a liberal arts
student, however, I feel I have a strong sense of guidance when it
comes to engaging with local and global societies and
economies. During historic crossroads the imagination,
creativity, and criticism of a liberal arts education are pertinent
to limiting the disconnect.
When I reflect on the matters addressed in this
essay, I am reminded of Shakespeare's words, "All the world's a
stage." The media reaffirm this every day, yet this is not
the reality. As the audience watches the show, a liberal arts
student sees the inner workings behind the curtain. And
although media constantly changes in order to grab our attention,
the liberal arts will always be a way to extract the unprejudiced
truth from the world in which we live.
1 a non-profit organization
that helps homeless veterans or drug abuse victims overcome
challenges by running.