I’m getting ready to graduate in a couple of weeks with a B.A. in Communication Studies, which really means nothing to any of you and, honestly, doesn’t mean a whole lot more than that to me. Basically, it’s a degree that means that I can work in radio, television, business, journalism, advertising, marketing, human resources, public relations, photography, video production, or a whole host of other unrelated fields. Fortunately, though, my minor in Psychology saves me a little bit. Now I also have the option of going to grad school.
Believe it or not, the purpose of this post is not to impress you with the number of choices available to me in a month or so; rather, the purpose of this post is to impress you with what I have learned in my years of scholarship, and I even know how to format it most effectively to make sure that you remember it four hours from now (thank you, psychology).
What I’ve learned has boiled down to this: a good education doesn’t teach you what to learn—a good education teaches you how to learn.
For some of you, this might be the single most obvious statement you have ever heard. For others, it might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard. Regardless of which category you fall into (or, even if you fall into a third, undisclosed category), give me a minute to express my newly discovered insight before you close your browser and turn on Jay Leno.
I think many people realize, on the surface, that a school cannot possibly teach you everything you need to know and must, therefore, strive to teach you how to learn instead. But if we were to dig a little deeper, I think we might find something uncomfortable.
Because our society puts great worth on the degree that a person has, it also tends to ascribe a certain prestige to having that degree. Now, hang with me here. If you have something prestigious, how does that make you feel? Prestigious, right? or elite? It makes you feel one step higher than the common man, at least, for sure. At least, that’s the way I’ve been feeling (albeit ever so slightly) for the last year or so. “That’s right,” I think. “I know some stuff. I’m cool. I can use big words like ‘albeit’ in a sentence.” It’s just kind of a little bit of arrogance. Am I alone in this, or is anybody else nodding along with me here?
Well, let’s go back and look at things a little differently. If I have received a good education, it’s not the facts that I’ve learned that are important—it’s the way that I’ve learned…to learn. So, basically, I’ve paid tens of thousands of dollars to learn how to pursue knowledge. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for getting an education and I certainly don’t want to start an argument on the cost of that education, but essentially, at the risk of repeating myself, I’ve paid tens of thousands of dollars to learn how to pursue knowledge.
Yes, that is a vital skill that I need to have. Yes, it gives me a step above most people without degrees. Yes, I should feel honored that the school saw me fit to receive my degree. But any arrogance or pride I have in regards to my degree are completely unfounded. One might even argue that they are idiotic.
Still tracking with me? I’m almost done, as you’ve no doubt already scanned to the bottom of the page and checked by now.
So my point is this: a degree is a piece of paper. A really expensive piece of paper. It’s really nothing to flaunt over others. The facts and theories that we learned…well, will we even remember those in three years? It’s the methods that we really learned, and it’s the methods that we should be thankful for. Keep learning, and that piece of paper will have earned it’s cost.
sobecreation 