Calm Before the Storm

This reflection responds to "The Beast in the Jungle," a short story by Henry James.

    Sheltered in a cove between the turbulent surf of the freshman year and the intimidating depths of the junior, sophomores have their last sustained moment of calm before going out into the ocean of life. Georgetown sophomores need to take advantage of this calm in order to fail. They have a chance to dive deliberately into something new, still distant from any lasting consequences. They swim, safe in the knowledge that their proximity to shore allows them easy return from an unsuccessful endeavor, for there is nothing done during the sophomore year that can’t be reversed. While they have this safety, they should try new things, fail, and then try yet more things. Through these failures they will define the contours of their passions, discover and repair the hidden weaknesses in their skills, and figure out how to chart their future course. But unsure of the purpose of this special year, without the societal expectations of freshmen or the blossoming wisdom of juniors, they fail to recognize their opportunity until they sail past it. Believing that their journey lies ahead, they miss the critical work of sounding themself out.
    If sophomores fail to create their own charts during this year, they will find themselves adrift during their later years. Only when lost will they frantically draft their charts, all the while buffeted by the tough storms of life. If only something could serve as a lighthouse, to alert sophomores to the dangers of waiting too long to explore. Enter “The Beast in the Jungle” by Henry James. A poignant warning against putting off living, this novella should play an integral part in the sophomore experience at Georgetown. Properly framed, it would serve as a reflective touchstone to warn sophomores against waiting too long for the world to come to them. If presented at the beginning of the second year, it could ground a discussion about the purpose of the sophomore year. Hopefully, this discussion would save many sophomores from wasting their year waiting and encourage them to dive in, cognizant of their need to try and fail.

Required to Fail

First, let me profusely apologize for my unannounced and extend absence. I could offer up a number of excuses about this semester being busy (which it has been) or stressful (which it really has been), but in the end it comes down to a crippling writer's block coupled with an overwhelming desire for sleep. As I slowly begin to shift down my life into the proper gear, I will be writing again. I promise.


Since President Obama’s call to increase the number of STEM students has focused attention on the role of education in shaping society, the question arises as to what purpose education serves in our society. As the leader of the nation, the President must concern himself with the needs of that nation and naturally sees education as a tool for societal improvement. To that end he has focused his energy on repurposing education to meet society’s needs. While this aim appears laudable, it ultimately confuses the tendencies of education with its true goal. A real education provides the means for an individual to reach their fullest potential. Rather than acting as a mechanism for societal change, education’s ultimate goal is the self-actualization of the individual. Education tends to improve society, but only insomuch as fully actualized people tend to greatly benefit the society the live in.

If we want education to serve the serious purpose asked of it by the world, to prepare women and men for the work of moving civilization forward, it must be allowed to revel in a spirit of play. In order to help people reach their fullest potential, education must occur outside of ordinary life. It must be freely undertaken without any interest in material gain; indeed education must absent itself from any thought of immediate usefulness. Education requires play because education requires failure. Only through failure can you discover what works, and what doesn’t, for yourself. Lest your first failure dissuade you from trying again, it must not have lasting worldly consequences. Play protects education from those consequences and in doing so provides it with the space to undertake its work. The problem begins when our crusaders, ignorant of education’s true purpose, attempt to short-circuit this process. When the focus of education shifts from the individual to the needs of society, utility corrupts its playful nature. It changes the questions from “How does my knowledge enhance my understanding of myself and the world?” to “How is my knowledge useful?” Utility imposes consequence upon education and draws it back into the real world. Once thrown into the ordinary, education loses the play elements which make possible its work.