Windows and Bridges as Metaphors for Learning and Life

This past week my colleague, Dr. Keely Baronak, and I spoke with the campus community at the Carlow Forum about the launch of the new College of Education and Social Work and what it means for Carlow University. We focused our conversation on three themes: transformation, liberal arts as education for a great career and a meaningful life, and meeting the next great need. These focal areas, which are at the heart of the work our colleges do, seemed to resonate with the community and led to some rich discussion and feedback.

 Liberty Bridge, Pittsburgh. Source: Wikimedia Commons

In this post I offer just one facet of that conversation: a metaphor I shared that resonates with me and that  captures, in an affective and impressionistic way, what an education grounded in the liberal arts “does” for students on their educational journeys. In a previous blog post, I reflected on the skills of the liberal arts and how these connect with the qualities employers most seek in their employees. As important as that information is for understanding the relevance of liberal arts today, it also does not give the whole picture. This metaphor attempts to get at it in a different way. 

The way I’m beginning to think about an education grounded in the liberal arts is like a ride on the T. [Side note: The T is Pittsburgh’s public rail transit. Second side note: When I first moved to Pittsburgh in 2015, I assumed the T was a reference to the train. Not so. For Pittsburghers, it is actually the trolley. I thought yinz would appreciate this.] 

Think about it. As a student you are on an educational journey, a degree pathway. It starts at a particular station, orientation, and ends at another one, graduation. And along the way you are literally moving to a new place, a place you want to get to. 

Taking the T from the south hills, like I do most days, there are some great views along the way—especially coming over the hill through the Allentown neighborhood. Just as you crest the hill, all of a sudden the city view opens up. And it is just beautiful. To the right is the Cathedral of Learning and Oakland. Ahead is downtown and all its beautiful buildings. And to the left is Acrisure Stadium and Point State Park. And of course, every direction I look are the bridges, making connections possible across the rivers. This panoramic view often surprises me and always gives me a really interesting moment of perspective on where I work, where I live, and also the beauty in this world.

But one day I thought: imagine if there were no windows on the T. It would still do what it needed to do: take me from point a to point b. It would not take any less time or more time. But I would, without even knowing it, miss out on the incredible view—a view I would not get at any other point in my day. I would miss out on the perspective I could gain from looking out from that view, and just the enjoyment of the experience.

Pittsburgh Skyline. Source: Wikimedia Commons

In a way, this is what an education grounded in the liberal arts is like. If attaining a degree is a train journey from point a to point b, from orientation to graduation, as a student you need to get to point b with the foundational skills, experiences, and qualifications you need for the career you aspire to. Nurses need to learn a set of baseline clinical skills. Educators need skills in classroom management and curriculum and instruction. Computer scientists need fundamental coding and technical skills. That is what a student’s major provides them.

But at colleges and universities which offer an education grounded in the liberal arts, students also have windows to the world around them. The windows are an opportunity to see a fuller picture of human life, of nature, of the vitality of our world. Liberal arts—natural sciences, humanities, social sciences, creative arts, history, philosophy, ethics, theology— are like those windows, inviting a wider view. They not only enhance a person’s journey, but also invite new perspective on that journey. They might invite curiosity and even inspire a person to travel some new routes. They might help develop empathy for those they see along the way, who are in very different life circumstances than they are.

So we can think of those non-major classes (e.g., the classes in the Carlow compass, or electives, or a minor in a different field) as windows on the journey of education—enriching your ride, giving you a larger perspective, and enhancing your life.

John O’Donohue shared a similar concept which pointed me in this direction. He wrote about how we, as humans, can conceive of our lives as an expansive tower made of large and open windows. Unfortunately, most of us become quite comfortable remaining in one area of our tower and looking out of just one or two windows—the ones we are used to. The opportunity and invitation in life is to have the curiosity and courage to move around and explore the rest of the space in our lives, and to see what life looks like from other windows.

“Real growth is experienced when you draw back from that one window, turn, and walk around the inner tower of the soul and see all the different windows that await your gaze. Through these different windows, you can see new vistas of possibility, presence, and creativity. Complacency, habit, and blindness often prevent you from feeling your life. So much depends on the frame of vision—the window through which you look.” (John O’Donohue, Anam Cara)

To me, this is a beautiful image of opening ourselves to more of the experiences and opportunities that life offers us. This process of opening ourselves to more of the human experience is part of what a liberal arts education, when done well, can encourage within us.

Andy Warhol Bridge. Source: Wikimedia Commons

There is one further element of this metaphor I have been exploring. During my commute the windows also make it abundantly clear that you cannot get from here to there without crossing bridges.

And I now see that an education grounded in the liberal arts (and at Carlow, one grounded in values of mercy, service, and the dignity of every person), invites us to consider the bridges we need to cross in our world today. Bridges connect people, and metaphorically, they are a way of getting across differences.

In a moment like the present, with so much division and animosity, the skills of the liberal arts (listening, learning, considering others’ ideas and perspectives, empathy) can help us see the world from many different perspectives and imagine, and build, bridges to reconnect with others across those differences.

Our social media-driven world and the AI transformation we are going through also raise a lot of questions about how we all can preserve and foster meaningful human interactions and connections. Pope Leo challenges all of us to build what he calls “bridges of dialogue” that can help foster a sense of the brotherhood and sisterhood of all of us. In essence, this is a key part of creating a more just and merciful world.

In short, as I think about what an education grounded in the liberal arts offers students today, I think of windows and bridges: windows that expand our vision to encompass all the richness and beauty of the human experience; bridges to connect us across division and help foster connection and understanding.

What Liberal Arts Education Does and Why It Still Matters

Liberal arts education is doomed to an AI-fueled obsolescence. Or is it? With its focus on fostering deeply human skills such as empathy, creativity, and ethical reasoning, this might just be a moment in which a liberal arts education is more relevant than ever. Starting the new academic year in this transformational AI moment, many of us are asking ourselves what kind of education is needed now and into the future, and what value does a liberal arts education offer. 

Birmingham Museum of Art, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

A high-quality liberal arts education does many things, but two are especially critical today:

A liberal arts education helps you develop skills for a great career AND develop skills for a meaningful life.

 

This is so because an education grounded in the liberal arts:

 

• Energizes analytical thinking,
• Boosts creativity,
• Nurtures self-awareness,
• Elevates empathy, and
• Unlocks an appreciation for life.

Interestingly enough, these abilities align directly to five of the top eight core skills that employers say they are looking for in their employees. “Soft skills,” as they are sometimes called, are in high demand, and increasingly so in our AI world. (See the World Economic Forum's "The Future of Jobs Report 2025" for the details.)

A liberal arts education is invaluable because it:

Energizes analytical thinking. "Analytical thinking" is the top skill employers say they need. And rightly so. In any work environment, learning to formulate meaningful questions; synthesize information from multiple sources; create coherent arguments; question assumptions; apply moral and ethical reasoning to complex situations, are invaluable skills. As one AI-engineer shared with me, “AI can do Excel but you need to be able to think critically, think deeply across different problems, in order to make use of it and not be replaced by it.”

Boosts creativity. "Creative thinking" is fourth on employers’ lists of core skills they seek in their employees. While AI-generated content is all the rage right now, many people are voicing concerns, dissatisfaction, or outright disgust with some of the types of output they are encountering. It is even possible that we may see a swing back to interest in human-produced content: writing, music, poetry, art, books. See Jessica Stillman's interesting take that "The Rise of AI Will Make Liberal Arts Degrees Popular Again: Here's Why."

Nurtures self-awareness and Elevates empathy. Encountering the experiences of other people through music, movies, literature, poetry and art, we learn to visualize the stories of others. Opening our minds this way invites understanding and compassion, engaging other people and ourselves as whole persons. Martha C. Nussbaum explains:

We do not automatically see another human being as spacious and deep, having thoughts, spiritual longings, and emotions. It is all too easy to see another person as just a body—which we might then think we can use for our ends, bad or good. It is an achievement to see a soul in that body, and this achievement is supported by poetry and the arts, which ask us to wonder about the inner world of that shape we see—and, too, to wonder about ourselves and our own depths. (Not for Profit: Why Democracy Needs the Humanities, 102)

And note also that the number five core skill on employers’ lists is "motivation and self-awareness" while the number seven core skill is "empathy and active listening."

Unlocks an appreciation for life. Employers seek people who posses the core skills of "curiosity and lifelong learning" (number eight on their lists). Philosophy, theology, and related disciplines remind us that there is a gentle radiance, a quiet but luminous presence, a spiritual dimension, in all aspects of being: humans, living creatures, plants, inanimate objects, the earth itself. Depending on your view you might call this transcendence or the sacredness of creation; or you might say this world is enchanted, charmed with magic. Regardless, whether we perceive this mysterious aspect of the world depends largely on our ability to slow down, quiet our minds, and, with awareness, offer reverent attention to the world around us and the world within us. “But the magic of life is not about definitions and labels; it’s about love. About finding the beauty in the everyday motions of life” (Courtney Peppernell, Watering the Soul, p. 30). A liberal arts education invites us to appreciate the beauty and wonder of this world in which we live.

 

More than just practical in their own right, development of these skills and qualities prepares a person for "leadership and social influence," which is the number three skill sought by employers. Add “technological literacy” (#6) and “resilience, flexibility and agility” (#2) to your capabilities and you possess the top eight skills employers seek.

 

What can you do with these skills? Use them in all areas of your life to support meaningful relationships and meaningful work. A deeper sense of understanding who you are, appreciating the complexity of others, and an ability to engage each new circumstance with openness and creativity are qualities that will serve you well your whole life.

 

 

Connecting the Sacredness of Creation with Liberal Arts and Social Justice

Carlow University where I teach identifies five cores values that underlie all that we do: mercy, service, hospitality, discovery, and sacredness of creation. This academic year the value of sacredness of creation is being called out for special attention. Since I’ve been thinking about this value and its implications for what we do in the College of Learning and Innovation, I wanted to capture some of these ideas in a short post.

In Carlow’s values statement the value of sacredness of creation is described in this way:

This value leads us to a respect for each person and for all of creation. In gratitude for the beauty and variety of our world and its inhabitants, we commit to a culture of sustainability and to the preservation of a world where all are reverenced and all may thrive.

Since Carlow is a Catholic, Mercy institution, this value can be seen as a clear theme drawn from the Catholic Intellectual Tradition and underlying Catholic Social Teaching. As such, it is really an outgrowth of the biblical understanding that this world is God’s world. Psalm 24 begins with this declaration: “The earth is the LORD's and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it.” Careful reflection on this annunciation alone would allow us to make a strong claim for the value of all that is in this world, and of all who live in it. Rooted in the Hebrew Bible and affirmed in the New Testament, the sacredness of all creation is arguably a central affirmation of both Jewish and Christian faith traditions.

As a starting point, this value is a clear call to living thoughtfully upon the earth in ways that respect and preserve the beautiful world that we live in. As important as that is, especially today, it also seems to me the sacredness of creations has implications far beyond environmental responsibility.

I see this value making a claim upon our work in the College of Learning and Innovation in two important ways. First, on the largest possible scale, because everything that exists does so by God’s creative will, everything in this world is inherently valuable. This orientation to seeing the world as sacred undergirds the importance of a liberal arts education. Every field of academic study has value for its own sake, if we embrace the value of the sacredness of creation. Fr. Michael Himes of Boston College uses a wonderful expression to speak about what he calls the sacramental principle. He says, “To see things as they are is to see them ‘engraced.’ Everything that is, exists by being held in love by ‘engracement.’” If the earth is the Lord’s, then everything is “engraced”—what is needed is for us to be able to perceive this. This leads to a second implication.

Second, on a more personal scale, the sacredness of creation reflects back on the value, worth, and dignity of every person. This value certainly necessitates that we treat all people with the dignity they deserve. But this value places an additional claim on us: if we hold this value then we are called to respond to situations in which the dignity of humans is violated. Valuing the sacredness of creation thus places an obligation upon us to address social injustices. Catherine McAuley, foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, spent many years of her life living with a Quaker family where she came to embrace the Quaker teaching that “there is that of God in every person.” That belief motivated her life of service and continues to animate the Sisters of Mercy to this day. And thus, this value of the sacredness of creation is deeply rooted in our university’s history.

In short, in this one value is inscribed not only the importance of living with an eye toward the preservation of our environment, but a theological foundation for the study of the liberal arts and for working for the well-being of all people.

The Value of a Liberal Arts Education

Two national organizations dedicated to the meaningful delivery of university education issued a joint statement this week about the value of the liberal arts. The statement by these two organizations, the American Association of University Professors (AAUP) and the Association of American Colleges and Universities (AAC&U), is in response to a widespread trend which shows a devaluing of the liberal arts in American society today. The now common caricature and criticism of the liberal arts, particularly the idea of majoring in a liberal arts discipline in the humanities such as philosophy, history, theology, art, or English, is that they are not directly tied to training for a specific career outcome. And as students are steered toward other more clearly career-oriented majors that they can be sure will lead to a specific job, liberal arts enrollments have declined. This has often led to difficult decisions by university administrators to eliminate some liberal arts majors. It has also led to decisions by state legislatures who fund higher education about how to prioritize their limited funding. The result is a cycle that in the end reflects a societal devaluation of liberal arts education.

But, as the AAC&U and AAUP statement points out, it has long been known by employers that liberal arts are great preparation for many careers since, rather than focusing on one narrow set of technical skills (which may become irrelevant) the liberal arts prepare graduates with skills they will use in any career. These skills include the ability to learn quickly and learn on the job, a capacity for lifelong learning. They also include the ability to think deeply and critically, to understand complex problems, to draw on knowledge from a range of disciplines to solve problems, and to be creative in approaching challenges. In addition the liberal arts foster the ability to understand differing perspectives and, more importantly, people who have differing perspectives. The liberal arts promote empathy along with an understanding of culture and how it impacts individuals and groups.

All of those skills are more important in today’s society than they ever have been. Thus, the promotion of the liberal arts can readily be seen as needed for the sake of the public good. This shifts the focus from only the single issue of an individual having the option to choose liberal education to a broader issue: how to promote and foster what is needed for our society to thrive and to overcome its current challenges. Career education and technical training, as inherently valuable as those are, are not sufficient in themselves. A liberal arts education has a strong claim to being equally important for our world today, if not more so.

This week, in addition to being glad to see this joint statement about the liberal arts, I also came across a now classic essay entitled “Only Connect” by William Cronon. This essay, from twenty years ago, described the ten things that liberal arts enables people to do. The last was the phrase “only connect” which suggests the ability to take the many parts of a liberal education and make connections—between ideas, between events, as well as between people. I was surprised to see at the end of Cronon’s essay that he linked the liberal arts to one primary goal: love. A liberal arts education is not something one undertakes only for oneself, although the value to an individual can be great (see the salary surveys of liberal arts majors by mid-and late-career compared to other majors). Instead, the thinking, skills, and values of a liberal arts education provide one the perspective and motivation for service. Cronon wrote: “Liberal education nurtures human freedom in the service of human community, which is to say that in the end it celebrates love.” For Cronon, this is agape love, “the most powerful and generous form of human connection.” One need not look too far to find this notion rooted in the biblical ideals of love of God, the creator of the human community, and love of neighbor.

For those of us committed to lifelong learning, our own as well as that of our students, it is important to remember the value of what we do, both its roots and its outcomes, for individuals and for society. And in the current climate, to be aware of what may ultimately be at stake if liberal arts education continues to be devalued.

Race and Class in an Immortal Life

Four of my colleagues at Carlow University recently participated in a panel discussion on the subject of race and class in our common reader book, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks: Joel Woller, assistant professor of history, Dr. Linda Schifino, associate professor of communication, Dr. Judith Touré, professor of education, and Jessica Ruffin, Director of the Social Justice Institutes at Carlow University. Each approached the topic of race and class from a perspective informed by their discipline with the result that this was a wide-ranging look at these timely issues.

As a historian, Professor Woller, focused on three things. First, the author’s research and writing process and the excitement and pain of doing historical research. Second, the historical context of the book and, in particular, its settings in both the era of Jim Crow (with whites-only hospitals) and in the post-Jim Crow era—an era in which issues of race and class continue to have economic impact with disproportionate effects on African American families.

A professor of communication, Dr. Linda Schifino focused on issues of culture and how her culture affected Henrietta’s mindset toward her healthcare and this disease, particularly a culturally ingrained distrust of doctors. Linda also raised the notion of Intersectionality: Henrietta was not just black, also a woman, poor, and uneducated. All these identities “walked into the hospital with her,” with the net result that walking into the hospital was like walking into a foreign country. Trust and distrust was a central issue for Henrietta and for women like her.

Dr. Judith Touré approached this issue from a theoretical framework which has been part of her own research on what is called the white racial frame, drawing on critical race theory. One of the most pressing points she raised is the notion that Americans today are not living in a post-racial period; rather, racism (understood as prejudice plus power) is deeply rooted in the United States. One tool for countering racism is the idea of “counter-storytelling” a method that allows for counternarratives, giving voice to those whose voices are otherwise marginalized, such as women like Henrietta. One thing that those of us in higher education can do, suggested Dr. Touré, is to find ways to help students, faculty, staff, and ourselves develop racial literacy.

Finally, Jessica Ruffin, director of the Social Justice Institutes, did an excellent job of pointing out examples from the book showing that racism is not limited to individual actions or attitudes, but is systemic in nature. Differentials access to goods, services, and opportunities of society by race is the norm, and structure, and sometimes even protected by law. She provided ample statistics suggesting that this continues to be an ongoing systemic issue in our society.

During a time of open discussions some suggestions for further action were offered. These included expanding and deepening this conversation at Carlow; educating ourselves and our families; helping to educate our own communities; learning how people of other cultures want to be engaged, as a way of fostering trust; confronting the systems that propagate injustice; speaking up if you encounter something on campus- send an email, talk to someone, confront it. Jessica Ruffin gave a great summary exhortation to both students and Carlow faculty and staff:

“Remember your role in this; this is not someone else’s problem to deal with.”

A few days after the panel, I read the account in the Gospel of John where Jesus encounters the Samaritan woman at the well. In this account in John 4 many have seen an illustration of crossing social boundaries and engaging with “the other” as a person who deserves respect and dignity. What that looks like today in our culture may be very different from the time and culture of Jesus, but in any event it is clear that the writers of the gospels went out of their way to emphasize the inclusive nature of the good news and the love of Jesus as extending to all people regardless of race and class. In fact, the biblical and prophetic tradition suggests a concern and even a preference for those on the margins, whether that be racially, economically, or culturally. At the same time, it needs to be noted that the Bible has been used, at times, to propagate injustice and inequality. One need only look at the history of slavery in the United States for Christians who used scripture with great confidence to support the practice of slavery. On the other hand, it was also Christians who read the same Bible who worked tirelessly to abolish slavery as they sought to embody the teaching and love of Jesus toward their fellow human beings. Such an observation is a reminder that we need to be careful in what we “read into” scripture and make efforts to ensure that what we find in the Bible is not just a reflection of our own prejudices.

Taking a step back, my sense is that these panel members’ engagement with race and class in The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks embodies this same gospel openness to “the other.” The panel approach also demonstrates in action the value of the liberal arts: looking at complex issues from a variety of perspectives using knowledge from across the disciplines; questioning assumptions; and finding ways to imagine a better world and to help bring it about for the good of all. This summary only partially captures the breadth and depth of the discussion and the panelist’s comments. Ultimately what is important that we continue this conversation and each engage with issues of race and class in our own way recognizing that this is not someone else's problem.

Imagine Better

“We do not need magic to change the world. We carry all the power we need inside ourselves already: we have the power to imagine better.”

-J.K. Rowling’s 2008 commencement speech at Harvard University

As an educator in a college that includes the liberal arts and sciences as well as education, this quote really resonates with me. And, in my most optimistic moments, I like to think that this is one of the best things that an education grounded in the liberal arts provides for students: a capacity for imagination. An ability to see problems and challenges from multiple perspectives, and to draw on a wide range of knowledge and experiences to imagine solutions and ways forward that can lead to a better world. I don’t have to look very far to find examples of graduates who are doing just that.

 At the same time, I have to acknowledge that few students see it this way as they begin their educational journey in college. Education for all but a few is instrumental—a means to an end. Get a degree to get a job. I don’t say that to lament this reality; just to acknowledge it.

Where and when does the capacity to imagine better enter in?

From the vantage point of my academic discipline—biblical studies—I see the shaping of the human imagination as a major part of what the biblical writers were about. Through narratives, through psalms, even through letters, the biblical writers invited their readers to envision a world in which God was at work. As much as Christians have prioritized doctrine and right-beliefs over the centuries, it seems to me that the biblical writers were interested in inviting readers to see themselves in a world in which the God who created the world was also actively at work. And from there, to imagine their part as participants in God’s ongoing work of creation and new creation and to enjoy the realities of what it means to be a child of God. And if that is one way that “imagining better” is reflected in the discipline of biblical studies, there are many, many other ways it is reflected in other subjects, all of which contribute to a well-rounded liberal arts education. Ideally.

A recent essay in the Chronicle of Higher Education laments the piling up of BS in higher education. The author, sociologist and professor Christian Smith, lists many things that he considers BS. It is an extensive list of things that, for the most part, are ingrained features and aspects of contemporary higher education that distract from or distort the best of what higher education could be. One could argue with any of his individual laments about the nuances and complexity of each one, but the collective force of the list is jarring. It suggests that, taken together, there are some very serious systemic problems in higher education. But three points of analysis stand out to me.

First, ideas have consequences. The kinds of ideas and thinking that develop in universities make their way into society over time. Accordingly, the currents of BS flowing through universities today will become visible in our public and political life and, Smith claims, actually already are visible in our current highly polarized and divisive political rhetoric. Our institutions of higher learning are supposed to be producing educated citizens and leaders who can participate in the political process and find new solutions to problems, but apparently they have not done so.

Second, Smith notes that many of the people perpetuating the BS within institutions of higher education are well-intentioned people who are doing so unwittingly; with the best of intentions they are participating in a system that is flawed and by participating in it and contributing to it, they contribute to the problems.

Third, what is needed are those who can creatively break out of the current paradigm and foster new forms of higher education that reflect the ideal of what liberal education is all about. Some combination of “visionary traditionalism” (I really like that phrase) and “organizational radicalism” is what is called for. The author suggests we need “people with the capacity to retrieve and revitalize the best of higher education’s past and restructure it in ways that are most effective in the future” (Smith, “Higher Ed is Drowning in BS”).

The solution for higher education is not going to be found in a wholesale return to the past, but it can likely be found in the heart of what higher education, particularly in the liberal arts tradition, is: critical reflection and creative thinking. About the past; about the present; about the future. About problems; about possibilities. Imagining better.

Those of us in higher education need to imagine better for the sake of higher education so that our students can imagine greater for their lives, their communities, and the world as a whole. And I think further that those of us in Christian higher education and at faith-based institutions can look to the examples of prophets and poets in ages past who, through their writings now preserved as scripture, invite all of us to imagine better. And perhaps we all can find this current in different ways in whatever subject area we are passionate about.