In the end of term crush of the last few weeks, I’ve found myself, as most do, writing a rather lot of papers. And in writing those papers – trying to answer some question, trying to find an angle, formulate a thesis, get them done – I’ve noticed that I have repeatedly approached my introductory material as an effort to correct some misapprehension. The “real” Hitler versus his pop culture persona, a more nuanced and informed view of FDR’s New Deal, the reality behind modern-day Creationism – these are just a few of my recent written endeavors – the sorts of things that include amazingly original declarations along the lines of “While it is commonly assumed that xxx is yyy, actually, it is better understood as zzz.” In undertaking my last paper, and again leaning towards such an approach, I began to question why this was (hey, it beat finishing the essay).
Was I just completely without literary creativity? In a mental rut? Lazy? Or, just maybe, was there something deeper corralling my thoughts in this particular direction. This was when I realized that this very sentiment – of re-education, the correction of misapprehensions – has been a constant refrain in the back of my mind throughout my time at university. Time and time again, I realized how my haphazardly accumulated and only vaguely acknowledged preconceptions and notions – about the nature of people, books, places, events – were almost invariably totally wrong. I have always considered myself a generally well-read, reasonably informed, intelligent person, but I am continually surprised at the wild differences between the fuzzy pictures in my head and reality.
Has anybody else has this same revelation? Is it merely the definition of education? Or, of good education? I’m not sure, but the experience seems to have awoken the voracious scholar in me; I grow restless thinking that I must be similarly uninformed, mistaken, about so many innumerable things. I am eager (as any undergrad with her eye on a doctorate ought to be, if possible) to learn, read, expand my knowledge in an effort, though ultimately futile, to combat discomfiting sense of ignorance. Young, naïve, starry-eyed as I may be, this is my quest.
