My Manifesto
Reflect on the value and meaning of your role as a liberal arts graduate, a professional, and a citizen, should both draw from your early mini-manifestos, but now substantively and stylistically respond to the values as identified in your audience analysis (500-700 words).
The liberal arts often get the reputation of being useless for a few different reasons. Many people think that being required to take classes outside your major is a waste of time. Some even go so far as to believe that liberal arts requirements are a scheme designed to make college institutions more money by extending the amount of time students are in school. On the other side of the argument, there are those that believe a rounded education is the key to all job and life opportunities, regardless of a person’s major. My beliefs lie somewhere in the middle—incorporating ideas along the entire spectrum to reflect on the value and meaning of my role as a liberal arts graduate, professional, and citizen. Within the context of moral judgement, there must be a careful balance between the weight given to intention versus result. Discourse surrounding the liberal arts is often polarized due to the discussion of fundamentally different talking points. Rather than debate the inclusion or implementation of the liberal arts in the American education system, I would like to discuss my personal experiences and subsequential value that I have found.
First, the definition of a liberal arts education that I will be referencing throughout this reflection: an education that encompasses a broad range of subjects intended to give students the ability to think critically and learn any subject. In addition to the ability to think and learn, I believe a liberal arts education also intends to encourage a passion for learning that goes beyond the classroom—one that goes farther than a grade on a test into an intrinsic desire for understanding. And through critical thinking, understanding of one subject is then transferrable to all other areas of life. For example, skills obtained while learning how to logic through a specific math problem can later be used to logic through a marketing project.
Despite going through my undergraduate years with the intention of going into a specific career, I believe that taking general education courses has been an integral part of my academic and professional development. Although classes like biology and chemistry have provided foundational knowledge for my future as well as critical thinking skills, the courses that I have found the most challenging each semester have been those outside my major. I believe this is because they required drastically different styles of writing, thinking, reading, and conversation. As a result, I have been able to expand existing skills in science to other disciplines. In other words, I became a highly adaptable learner capable of making creative connections between seemingly unrelated subjects.
Moving into my professional life, this will be especially useful because I plan on engaging in interdisciplinary research that will require I am able to effectively learn and connect material across specialties. Outside my professional and academic career, critical thinking is and will continue to be essential to my interpersonal relationships. Additionally, a passion for learning has supported my hobbies and other interests that improve my overall quality of life. Finding joy in the pursuit of knowledge means that I can find joy in anything because there is always something to be learned.
Think back to your pre-college self. What connections have you made since, between academic disciplines, self, and the world, that you couldn't have anticipated?
What things did I hate pre-college? (Hate is a strong word, but I’m going for emphasis here) For starters, writing, assigned reading (textbooks, specifically), applications, doing my work right when it was assigned, non-fiction, talking to people I didn’t know, sharing my opinions with people I didn’t know, confrontation, performing alone (auditions), definitely public speaking, and probably a bunch of other things that I’m forgetting. Within the past couple week, I’ve written four essays, done assigned readings every night (two textbook chapters), continued applying for graduate school, started assignments several days in advance, listened to a podcast about plants just for fun, had full conversations with several new freshmen, gave several opinions in class discussions, had a meeting confronting someone about their shortcomings as an organization leader, auditioned for an ensemble, and stood in front of 20-80 people multiple times giving instructions/making jokes/giving feedback. And to be honest, I haven’t hated it. Sometimes, I’ve even enjoyed it.
I never thought I would be okay with most of the things on this list, but surprisingly I’ve become more than okay with just about all of them. And it’s something I didn’t even realize until exactly right now. I dedicated a total of zero hours intentionally trying to grow in any of these areas, but it happened and I’m not going to complain about it. But I will reflect on it. I guess the connections that I didn’t anticipate were the way my academics, self, and the world have interacted in a (in hindsight) what feels intentional but was actually random way. Getting comfortable leading class discussions just so happened to be something I went through before having a student leadership position that required me to do a lot of public speaking; I had to get up early for 7AM lab assistant stuff which meant that I had to stop staying up until 3AM procrastinating; writing efficiently so that I didn’t have to stay up super late to finish assignments made it easier to organize my thoughts when speaking which made me less insecure about talking to people; and lots of other stuff that won’t fit within the 500-word limit.
If I’d been asked to predict how something like getting better at writing might improve other areas of my life, I could make a pretty solid guess that it would probably help with speaking. It might just be hindsight bias, but I never would have expected for random connections to line up so perfectly that it would feel like I was gaining skills exactly when I needed them for something else completely unrelated.
In response to Etzioni and Gardner, which responsibilities to the common good do you especially share, which are a surprise, and which do you openly question?
“Everything in moderation”. It’s something my mom used to say to me and my siblings all the time. She wanted us to have a good understanding of the fact that “all or nothing” wasn’t the best way to approach most things. Of course, the phrase has a little nuance to it; we were not encouraged to only commit murder every now and then. She just wanted us to incorporate sustainability and enjoyment into our construction of ideal scenarios. Waking up at 5am in the morning to go for a run before school might sound like a healthy choice but not when it starts to take away from your sleep or makes you dread getting up every day. The same principle applied to conversations about the common good would probably make the topic less polarized.
Based on the Etzioni article, the existence of the common good has been debated throughout history. Some believe that neither the common good nor community exist—that communities are just a bunch of individual dudes (I’d like to point out that he said men in his description of community) with their own individual wants and needs; he said that there is no such thing as “good” when it comes to a “disembodied aggregate of relationships”. I’m sorry, but who hurt him? (My guess is capitalism). On the other end of it, there’s the argument that members of a community shouldn’t view themselves as individuals, only as pieces that make up some greater being, to which they should devote their lives and in which they should have blind faith. That would also be a no from me.
When it comes to the human experience, the human condition, the human existence, there are lots of paradoxes that people have come up with: unlimited tolerance will eventually be destroyed by the intolerance it tolerates, the most objective perspective is melded with subjectivity, and to add another one to the list, there is nothing absolute about human life (sounds like a pretty absolute statement, doesn’t it?).
Are there times when people working together can accomplish more towards a specific goal than they could alone? Yes. Are there times when working towards that shared goal makes it so not everyone can do whatever they want, whenever they want? Also, yes. Are there times when you don’t really want to die fighting even if you believe in the cause? Still yes. There’s nuance and context (forgotten/unacknowledged/destroyed/untaught it might be) and emotion and perspective and subtlety when it comes to just about everything, to which none of us have full access.
The existence of, definition of, and qualifications to be included in a common good depend on values, all the things I listed up there, and a million other things. When these differ between individuals, I think it’s more important to explore the source and context of why they differ, the needs of individuals, and the needs of communities (to better support individuals) before arguing about whether everyone should take an oath together (when that oath might just glaze over the deep-rooted problems that cause people to disagree).
What does it mean (for you) to live in the way that JENNINGS ET AL. and ARRUPE describe? How does US culture encourage living this way and how does it create barriers against doing so?
Consider the following two scenarios:
(1) I hate babies. All they do is eat, sleep, poop, and cry. They can’t support themselves and need way too much attention. The world is overpopulated as it is, and pretty much everyone I’ve talked to feels the same, so I decided the world would be better without babies. Therefore, my hobbies include poisoning babies.
(2) I love babies. I think they’re so cute and have so much potential. I want them to experience everything good in the world, especially food. Whenever I’m around babies, I like to give them foods like grapes, whole milk, and mashed apples sweetened with honey. Grapes are soft and fruit is nutritional, babies need milk, and honey is a sweet treat that has lots of antioxidants. Little did I know that whole grapes are a choking hazard, whole milk can cause intestinal bleeding in babies under 12 months because of the excess protein, and honey can contain bacteria that produce toxins that cause botulism in babies.
How are these two scenarios different? One intended to cause harm, and the other wanted to help. One thought babies were the cause of all world problems, and the other thought babies were the world’s future. The more interesting question, though, is how are these two scenarios similar? It’s interesting because it’s so obvious: both led to dead babies—regardless of intention or perspective.
While the first scenario speaks to moral existence, the second speak to moral execution (pun not intended). When discussing morals, it’s tempting to cut the second person some slack because they didn’t INTEND to cause harm. They were using the golden rule of treating others the way they wanted to be treated. I’m sure Person #2 would love to be fed grapes, but when thinking about helping others, it’s important to actually Think About Others—not from your own perspective, but from theirs.
As professionals with ethical obligations to both the common good and public interest, it’s imperative that we invest time and effort to better understand the problems (and sources of those problems) of groups we’re trying to help. This includes learning historical context, listening/learning without judgement, and actively challenging instances of bias. This can be increasingly difficult from within a culture that glorifies polarization/politization of social issues, neglects pieces of history, and allows politics to be controlled by wealth. However, increases in media representation and ease of communication through social media presents a unique opportunity to immerse ourselves in perspectives and experiences different from our own.
Scharmer describes the authentic Self as follows:
"On the one hand, we are the person that we have become on our journey from the past to the present--the current self, On the other, there is the other, the dormant self, the one that is waiting within us to be born, to be brought into existence, to come into reality through our journey ahead."
When all the non-essential has been stripped away, what mission statement guides your authentic Self?
Work hard, play hard? In this economy? It’s more like work hard, work now, work later, work whenever possible. Consequences include not being able to support yourself or loved ones, failing your classes (and throwing away your future), not impressing your boss enough, not impressing your family enough, not impressing yourself enough, feeling like you’re letting everyone down, feeling less than for needing a break, and general (overwhelming) feelings of (unnecessary) guilt. In a society that places so much value in productivity, it can be difficult to ever fully rest and focus on non-work-related things.
Looking back on my previous work for this seminar, I’ve realized that so much of what I’ve focused on has been related to career or academic goals. Very little has even had a hint of a personal life. While I am passionate about my career and academic goals and interests, I don’t want it to consume my life to the point I’m just another data point in calculating the country’s GDP. I think that after stripping away the non-essentials (this would include work), a goal I have for myself is fulfillment, and the core relationship would be between myself and the things with which I feel connected. This may include my inner Self, my loved ones, and other passions.
This would largely transform my current mission statement from focusing on what I can do for my career and more to how I can better connect with the things towards which I feel a compelling relationship. I wouldn’t abandon a PhD since it and the opportunities it would provide contribute to my goal of finding fulfilment, but I would incorporate more elements of my goals outside of my career. With these guiding sentiments in mind, my core mission statement might read something like: “I strive to live my life”. Although short and somewhat vague, this simple sentence serves to emphasize the ambiguity of life and the passions it presents; “living a life” implies a certain degree of accepting things as they come, but at the same time “live” is an action that requires agency; my concept of living may change over time as simply as the interpretations of the sentence could change from person to person; and, without positive or negative adverbs to describe “live”, it is inclusive of the range of experiences to be had during life.
Our authors have argued that deep reflection is essential to a thriving democracy, to removing blinders to new knowledge, and to turning professionals into experts. How and where have you done your best reflection over these past four years? Now, paint a picture of your future where reflection is a regular practice. What would you hope that would look like? Are there any obstacles in the way of you becoming a growingly reflective person?
Ever since I was young my mom has encouraged me and my siblings to keep a journal. She tried to convince us by telling us stories from her own journals that she’s been keeping since high school, and she always reminded us that she would have forgotten a lot of those stories if she hadn’t written them down. I made several attempts from elementary to high school to keep a journal, but the task of recording (in detail) everything that I wanted to remember was so overwhelming that I always stopped after a few weeks. But one stressful week my senior year of high school, I decided that I needed to write out everything in my head before I talked to other people about it. That way I would be able to organize things without the fear of saying something that wasn’t representative of my actual thoughts and feelings.
From there, I realized that journaling was good for more than just remembering events. It was incredibly therapeutic and helped me organize my thoughts. Since I tend to experience my thoughts as impressions and feelings rather than coherent words, I’ve always had trouble conveying them to other people, especially during stressful times. And this trouble is compounded if I’m talking to someone that’s involved whatever I’m stressed about, because it feels like whatever I say out loud is set in stone.
Ironically, when I set things in ink (without the intention of having anyone read it), my thoughts flow much easier. It’s almost like the action of writing slows my thoughts to a manageable pace when the fear of judgement is removed. Similarly, I’ve had some of my most reflective learning experiences on long car rides by myself. Without anyone around, I can pretend to explain thoughts or feelings out loud. Allowing myself to be angry, extra, childish, sad, and selfish, as well as letting myself make faces, cry, and be loud, I feel like I’ve had some of my most profound moments of self-understanding in the car.
Even though they’re the times when I need it the most, I think about journaling the least when I get busy and stressed. I get caught up in experiences (past, present, and future) and forget to reflect on how everything is affecting me. Ideally, I would like to dedicate quiet mornings to reflection through free-writing, journal prompts, and self-talk. However, day-to-day life often gets in the way, making me choose between reflection and sleep, social life, exercise, academics, etc.. Outside of logistics, I think the biggest things holding me back from being a more reflective person are fear of failure or inadequacy and the judgement of those shortcomings. Similar to the way it feels like my brain is paralyzed when trying to explain complicated feelings to other people, I’m often afraid of realizing things about myself that stray from my ideal self, causing me to avoid reflection (often through staying busy or dissociating). Despite all of that, I do believe that I feel the proudest and most comfortable with myself following those moments of reflection. Dedicating time and energy towards a sustainable version of intentional, habitual reflection, such as journaling in between classes or making mental notes to pause throughout the day would benefit me greatly.