Speech for the Freshman Tea
April 20, 2006
The year before his death in 1703, British political philosopher John Locke wrote a letter to his friend, which we now call “Some Thoughts Concerning the Reading and Study of a Gentleman.” In this letter, Locke givesadviceabout what a young manshould read in order to become a proper gentleman. A gentleman, in Lockean terms, is not just a member of the landed gentry of seventeenth-century England,who enjoys living in the upper crest of society. Locke expects gentlemen to be the leaders of society, serving in politics and businesses, and setting virtuous norms for the public; thus, his reading list for the young man consists of books on geography, politics, ethics, and traveling.
Before Locke begins detailing works to read in this letter, he gives a profound explanation about what it means to read, what it means to study, and what it means to know. In this opening, Locke explains that it is one thing to read, to look through books and pick out information, and another thing to have understanding. Individuals who possess knowledge can connect thoughts and truths. They can associate principles inside of books to the world they find around them. Gentlemen of knowing can explain ideas and often talk about them. Yet many people never reach this level of understanding. For this reason, Locke contends that men of much reading may be greatly “learned,” but little “knowing.”
What does it mean to have a 4.0 GPA? I have been reflecting on that question since I was asked to speak to you, and I have thought of a few things that it could mean. Having a 4.0 GPA probably means that you have been dedicated to your studies and have taken learning seriously. It means that you have made the transition from high school to college successfully, and that you have adjusted very well. It also means that your teachers will continue to expect much of you, and that they will look forward to seeing you succeed. For all these accomplishments, you should be commended.
However, there are many thingsthat don’t necessarily follow from having a 4.0 GPA. Although professors intend to give A’s to students whom they feel have thoroughly learned the subject, who have connected ideas in the class to the broader picture, it is possible to ace a test without truly knowing the subject as one should. Locke’s distinction between reading and knowing, here, becomes fitting. When I look back on my years at Baylor, I must admit that I have not walked away from every class knowing all that I should have known. The subjects I studied in these classes didn’t creep into my conversation; I didn’t ponder them outside of the classroom. I may have even forgotten some of them.
One would think that academic scholars are the ones who truly know, who are able to connect books and ideas with living words and the outside world. Yet, in Of the Conduct of the Understanding, Locke explains that even the scholars have miscarriages of reason. They can spend too many hours soaking up the same puddle of information, whileforsaking the vast ocean of knowledge available to them. Locke encourages us, instead, to traverse the countryside, to survey the riches that nature has stored for us. Instead of becoming likea mill horse,who goes around on the same track, or keeps within the narrow bounds of a field or two that delight him, we should wander out to the wider pasture. We should enquire what others think about subjects, and not underestimate their opinions, for "[t]o prejudge other men's notions before we have looked into them is not to show their darkness, but to put out our own eyes."
What does it mean to “traverse the countryside” while at BaylorUniversity? I believe this university offers a community of scholars and students who avidly embark on this journey to know, and not just to read. I encourage you to explore this place, to join organizations of all types, to learn to dance, to meet interesting people. Volunteering in the Waco community is a perfect way to connect ideas and thoughts with one’s wider context. The professors at Baylor exemplify this love of learning through their involvement in students’ lives and their service to Waco. Work closely with professors; feed off their enthusiasm and seek their friendship. Fill the conversations you have with your friends about what you have heard in class or what you have been reading. Chew that which you have been taught. It is through these avenues that we become people of knowledge.
I have always been a girl of much reading, but I am constantly trying to become a girl of much knowing. I thought that I was much further along on this path, until I was interviewed for the Marshall Scholarship just a few months ago. A panel consisting of three professors, a lawyer, and the vice consul for the British Consulate, drilled me on a series of questions about anything and everything I’ve studied in college. The line of questioning I remember most vividly came from Professor James K. Galbraith, a well-known economist. At the beginning of the interview I was asked what British authors I enjoy reading. I felt my reply was safe: Graham Greene. This twentieth-century British novelist won my heart with The Quiet American, and since reading that novel for a Great Texts class, I had read Greene every chance I got. Because of my fascination with him, and the fact that I had read several of his books, I felt confident bringing him up in the interview. Little did I know that my knowledge would be tested.
When it came time for Dr. Galbraith to ask mequestions, he pushed his prepared notes to the side and said, “You’re a Graham Greene fan?” “Yes,” I adamantly replied. A smile slowly stretched across his face, and he said, “The Quiet American is one of my favorite novels.” I was thrilled at this insight. But then, the questions began pouring from his smile:
“What is the book about?”
“Who is Pyle?” (He is the “quiet American.”)
“Why is Pyle in Vietnam?”
“Who is he working for?”
“What is it Pyle does?”
“What does Pyle do at the end of the novel?”
At this point, I was feeling a bit shaky. Luckily I had glanced over the book just days before, so I remembered most of the details. But Dr. Galbraith was far from finished. Earlier in the interview, I had been asked what I thought about immigration, and what I thought about the bombings in Madrid and London in the last couple of years. Based on this conversation, Dr. Galbraith continued his questions:
“What does Pyle do at the end of the novel?”
“Would you classify that as a ‘terrorist attack’?”
I had never thought about using that phrase for Pyle’s action. A “terrorist attack”? I decided it could be classified as such.
“How does Pyle’s action relate to the bombings in Madrid?”
“To the bombings in London?”
“Okay, so you say that they are similar. How, then, are all three of these instances related to the current riots in France?”
I was stammering. Relating Pyle’s action to the recent bombings had been hard enough, but now I felt muddled and bewildered. I began drawing distinctions between the riots and the bombings and the novel, but I found myself talking about an answer I just couldn’t solidify. Finally, I looked Dr. Galbraith in the eye and paused, before admitting, “I’m sorry, sir, but I believe it would take me at least four years to formulate an adequate response and to really think through this.” Dr. Galbraith began to smile again: “It is a difficult question,” he replied. “It would take me that long, too.”
That day I learned what it meant to really know something. I thought I knew Graham Greene. Then I realized that knowing him meant so much more than just reading him during Christmas break. I had never thought to relate him to the terrorist attacks, and I realized that such thinking is how all learning occurs. I should have been making that connection all along.
I encourage you to live in the vast world in which we find ourselves—to relate your classes, your books, your good grades to the full spectrum of knowing. Locke’s charge resonates even today: Why read, if not to truly know?
Jamie Gianoutsos