Covering Ground or Contemplation

I step into the museum with an hour to spare.  It’s a rather large museum, so I’ve got to be efficient to cover all the ground.  Some rooms are laid out so that I can stand in the middle and slowly turn and take it all in.  Other rooms are laid out so that I have to go to each painting individually, giving my attention for a few seconds at a stop, perhaps even reading a few of the titles and histories.  Finally, I reach the exit, glance down at my watch and notice that I actually saw everything in only thirty-five minutes.  But I’ve already seen everything - so I guess I’ll have time to run into the used bookstore on the way home.

I step into the museum with an hour to spare.  It’s a rather large museum, so I’ve got to select my subjects with care.  But not to worry, I can always come back again.  I select a few paintings, sit down, taking the time to observe - perhaps taking out my sketch book or notepad.  I glance at my watch and notice how fast the time has flown.  I gather my things and think about what I saw all the way home.  I’ll have to plan a return visit soon.

It is a real temptation for both classical and home school curriculums to cover as much ground as possible.  There is an anxiety about missing something essential or not getting through the entire history of the world.  Unfortunately, there are some serious ramifications from this approach to the curriculum.  “Covering ground” tends to become an end in itself.  I think the better approach is to cover a few things well, and whet the appetite for more.

What are our classical schools producing?  Do students graduate and say either of the following:  “I never want to read another ‘great’ book again” or perhaps even more harmful thinking, “I’ve already read the great books of the western world”.   If so, we have a problem.  Students should graduate with a joy for learning, still wanting to know more.  Considerable time and effort should go into thinking how this can be accomplished in our schools. 

There have been a few times in my teaching career that I experienced something like deep satisfaction.  On one such occasion, the class had been reading Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton slowly and carefully, discussing as we went.  We had gotten to know the author through anecdotes about his life.  We took note of how Chesterton saw the world in different and more beautiful ways than most of us had before.  As the Christmas break approached, several students asked me what other Chesterton books they should read over the break.  Something wonderful had happened.  Under most school circumstances, this would not have been able to occur.  It required time to get to know the author, to experience his work together, to simply enjoy - it took time.