by Mahayla Bassett

There’s a little conversation that I’ve had a hundred or more times with friends and family over the past 4 years. It goes somewhat like this.

They’d ask me: what are you studying in college these days?

I’d reply with the ever-unique answer: Classical Liberal Arts!

I didn’t have to look at their faces in order to know that they were wrinkling their brows in confusion. After a little bit, they’d ask: “What’s that?”

I’d explain, and then the inevitable question would follow: “Okay…so…What can you DO with that?”

Today I’d like to try and answer this question. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.

Chaim Potok, in his book “The Chosen”, writes the following: “I learned a long time ago…that a blink of an eye in itself is nothing. But the eye that blinks, that is something. A span of life is nothing. But the man who lives that span, he is something. He can fill that tiny span with meaning, so its quality is immeasurable though its quantity may be insignificant. Do you understand what I am saying? A man must fill his life with meaning, meaning is not automatically given to life.” – David Malter, The Chosen by Chaim Potok Historically, the Liberal Arts was a collection of subjects that every person needed to know in order to be a free, participatory citizen. They were a prerequisite before any person entered the world or the workforce. Societies believed that people must know how to critically think, how to creatively solve problems, how to understand patterns of the world and of human nature.

But today, we live in a world that is increasingly forgetting its past. In our world, many people feel their lives lack meaning. We are confused. We are bewildered about who we are, where we come from, and where we are going. But like Chaim Potok said, meaning is not automatically given to life – every person is accountable for filling their own lives with meaning. It’s not enough to just live, work, and die. There’s more to life than that. There’s more to humanity than that. And it’s up to every person to find it for themselves.

G. K. Chesterton writes: “How much larger your life would be if your self could become smaller in it…” The Liberal Arts is the story of humanity: our successes and failures, our joys and heartaches, our strengths and flaws – peace and war, creation and destruction, life and death. It’s a big story – bigger than you or me or anyone. But it’s OUR story. And every person has a part in it. Learning and thinking about this story is more freeing than you could ever imagine. Once you start to learn about the Great Conversation, you suddenly have a chance to join it.

I want to speak about a word I learned very recently when I read John Steinbeck’s East of Eden. It’s a Hebrew word: Timshol. And it’s from one of the oldest stories in the world.

Cain and Abel both presented an offering before the Lord. And the Lord was pleased with Abel’s offering, but not with Cain’s, which made him upset. “[But] the Lord said unto Cain, Why art thou wroth? and why is thy countenance fallen? If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.”

The King James version translates the word Timshol as “thou shalt rule over [sin]”. Other translations say “do thou rule over [sin]”. But Steinbeck proposes an alternate translation: “thou mayest rule over [sin]”. “Now,” he writes, “there are many millions in their sects and churches who feel the order, ‘Do thou,’ and throw their weight into obedience. And there are millions more who feel predestination in Thou shalt.’ Nothing they may do can interfere with what will be. But Thou mayest’! Why, that makes a man great, that gives him stature with the gods, for in his weakness and his filth…he has still the great choice. He can choose his course and fight it through and win.”

We all know the end of the story – we know what Cain chose. But the point is that the story of humanity, the story of ourselves, is the story of our choices. Choices, made by us and others, have brought us to where we are, and will lead us to wherever we are going. Our fate, our future, our destiny – is ultimately within our hands alone. And this is the blessing – and perhaps the curse – of humanity.

Our world is focused on job training and specialization – learn one job and do it for the rest of your life. Yes, job skills are important skills. But an even more important skill, one that all the others must rest upon, is the skill of being human.

The humanities teach us what it means to be human. The problem in our society is that we forget. That’s how the great atrocities in our story happen. But if we ever want to become something better than just human, we must conquer what it means to be human first. Learn that skill, and the world is wide open to you. So what can I do with a liberal arts education? Anything I want to.

One of the hardest things about being a pioneer in any field is the constant awareness of pushing against the social norm, trying to change the flow of a river with a single drop of water. I want to close by offering these words of encouragement to all of us – because we all will find ourselves in this position at one time or another.

In Fyodor Dostoevsky’s masterpiece, “The Brothers Karamazov,” a poignant exchange occurs between Alyosha Karamazov and the bewildered young Kolya. As Kolya grapples with the choice between doing what is right or doing what is easy, Alyosha imparts a timeless wisdom: “You are like everyone else, that is, like very many others. Only you must not be like everybody else, that’s all.”

“Even if everyone is like that?” Kolya inquires, childishly echoing a sentiment that resonates with more individuals than will admit.

“Yes,” Alyosha affirms, “even if everyone is like that. You be the only one not like it. You really are not like everyone else…Don’t be like everyone else, even if you are the only one.”

Timshol. Thou mayest. Even if you are the only one.