Lead to truth

Harry Scherer
Class of 2022

(3/2020) Education is often spoken of as a sort of liberation. The word itself comes from the Latin ‘ducere’ meaning ‘to lead’ with the prefix ‘e’ meaning ‘out of’. The purpose of educators is to lead their students out of the slavery of ignorance into a more enlightened understanding of the world. This is, at least, the intention. The purpose of reading seems to be largely the same. The reader has a vested interest in his or her development and reads certain materials in light of that interest. This is, at least, the intention.

I contend that the importance of education and literacy and the importance of the content of this education share equal footing. This is to say that an educated person needs to be taught certain things in order to consider himself educated or well-read. The ignorance from which our educators have led us is a burdensome and recurring reality that will stifle our ability to know and understand. The significance of knowing and understanding, however, pales in comparison to the significance of loving.

In my primary, secondary and current undergraduate study, it becomes clearer to me every day that knowledge of the material world and the propensity to love share no relationship. In fact, it seems that an overvaluation of the accumulation of material knowledge can possibly hinder the ability to love; this is a claim that would require many more words to prove, let alone an ability to cogently prove it, which I do not possess. The burden of leading someone from the darkness of ignorance to the light of truth is an arduous task. It is one that demands patience and uniformity with the will of God, two necessary virtues that seem to be required in the task of education, an occupation which almost guarantees failure.

For the sake of clarity, I think of truth as an unchangeable reality that exists in a certain manner in every time and place and of ignorance as a privation of this truth. Therefore, one can find himself in the camp of truth or ignorance with regard to a certain idea. It becomes clearer, then, that the purpose of education is to recognize those ideas which are rooted in truth and those which stray from that foundation and lead the student to that place of greater enlightenment. With this in mind, it should be considered whether attending a place of education or reading are goods in themselves. It seems that the good arises when the place of education or act of reading fulfill their purpose. One implication of this thought is that one is better off learning and reading a small number of true things than a large number of ignorant things. To me, this claim seems to be largely self-evident.

The subsequent question for our contemporary context is whether the act of education is abused. Is it misunderstood to be merely a political right? I do not have the answers to these questions, but they seem to be fair inquiries for our current leaders.

One person who would have warned against such an abuse of education is Frederick Douglass. The powerful abolitionist found his personal liberation when he learned how to read and write. Douglass, however, did not just read and write anything. He learned fundamental truths about the dignity of each human person and the evil of slavery and used his natural talent and proven rhetorical brilliance to write about these perennial problems in an effective manner.

How does the story of Frederick Douglass affect how we think about literacy and how we should present the issue to our descendants? It is for certain that our children will be curious and will demand an account of their history so that they may better understand where they will go. Because our time is limited here on earth and we should be able to give an account of every second that we spend here, choices must be made with regard to what and how often we read. I am not claiming in any sense that I could successfully give an account of every second of my life with satisfaction; I dare anyone to do this. As an ideal, however, we should still question whether the words that we actively allow to affect our lives are worth this privilege. As persons made in the image of God, we have a responsibility to filter that which we consume for our own good and out of reverence for the gift of life which we have been unworthily granted. Especially today, we know that many products of the human imagination are not worth our time. Douglass devoted time to his reading and writing because he knew that it held existential import; he read to survive, and he wrote to help others do the same.

Our children should think of reading as a necessity for survival. Imagine our cultural leaders thinking of their writing as a tool to lead their followers out of ignorance; a paradigm shift for this small population would yield unimaginable results. Imagine this same population reconsidering the permanence of the written word. This permanent nature presents a hindrance to extemporaneous writing. From another perspective, this permanence is a gift. Without it, there is very little that humans could do preserve their history outside of the uncertainty of oral tradition.

The burden that our generation must undertake, then, is not just perpetuating the positive trend of widespread national literacy. We must teach the next generation to read the most formative texts in the West. If our offspring do not understand their rich ancestral history, then they have very little on which to base their passion for creative human action. It is surely a benefit to learn and read; if we are not learning and reading the way to virtue and the joys and sorrows of men of old, however, then we are neglecting the fundamental human journey of being led out of ignorance to the Light of Eternal Life.

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