Finals wrapped up, and for some reason this year I had very little energy to complete everything I had to do. Instead of powering through, I seemed to drag myself through the week limply. Maybe it was the plethora of boring classes this semester, the numerous horrible teachers or the fact that I had just been accepted to graduate school and therefore felt the pressure to exert all my energy and wellbeing for the slim chance of a slight grade increase to be unnecessary.
Either way, it’s done. I’m home. And I couldn’t be happier.
The highlight of my week though was dinner at my thesis advisor, Jesse’s, house. The three other students in my research group and I all headed over there Wednesday night; thank you card and gift certificate in hand. We drank some wine, met his wife, and enjoyed a delicious vegetarian curry dinner that he made himself (I had no idea he was such a cook!). He showed us his pets; two Chilean mice-squirrel-like creatures (who knew this guy was into small fluffy rodents?); as well as his home brewed beer collection (he apparently is an avid mead fan). He talked about his days playing ultimate Frisbee, our research, the current budget cuts and the education system in general. He then introduced us to a new board game, Ticket to Ride, which was incredibly fun. I’m disappointed to say that I came in second. My competitive nature is still bothered- I only lost by one point!
We left late, and as a result I had very little study time left before my test the next morning. However the evening was very enjoyable. Call me a nerd, but it probably ranks up there as one of my top favorite nights that I’ve had over at WSU. I got to really enjoy time with my research group and with Jesse. I got to see him outside of a school environment, and I really enjoyed his company, discussions and insight (ok, and his delicious cooking- I forgot to mention he made the most amazing carrot cake for dessert!)
For those of you whom I’ve talked to regarding my thesis I’m working on, you know how passionate I have become about my topic. I love Reformation era history- learning about Calvin, Luther and other religious leaders and why they championed for theological reform in the church. And I love the issue of religious toleration- how it is achieved and maintained in spite of persisting discrimination. However what many may not realize is the immense appreciation I have gained for Jesse himself, the professor that introduced me to this topic. And after having dinner with him last week, I want to reflect on him and how he truly has changed me; as a student, prospective teacher and person.
I met Jesse three years ago, and was in his class my first semester in college. It was an Honors history class; Religious Tolerance and Persecution in Western Europe: 1400-1750. Immediately, I felt overmatched. The class conversations were way above my head and when he stated that our entire grade would be solely based on a semester long research paper and class discussions on required readings, I panicked. Never before had I felt so unprepared for a class; never before had I felt “not smart enough”.
Within the first few classes, I decided it was too much to handle. I wasn’t even a huge history fan to begin with, nor was I ready for such an intense class in which I knew nothing about. I went to his office to explain to him that I had to drop the class; not that I didn’t find the topic interesting nor him interesting, but I explained that the reason rest in my feeling inadequate.
Looking back, I’m disappointed that in that moment I gave up in myself. For someone who has always been confident and so sure of herself and her capabilities, I’m embarrassed that I succumbed to the fear of failure. Luckily, Jesse, a professor I had known for but a week, at that moment, had more faith in me than I had in myself. He told me he respected my decision, but to take the time to really think about it before I officially withdrew from the class. He assured me that I would have no trouble succeeding in the class, as long as I was willing to put forth the effort. He told me that by no means was I academically deficient compared to the 14 other students in the class; while they may have had prior knowledge on the subject, it did not put them at an advantage in the class. He then told me that he would always be there to help; and that at times if I felt I was struggling, I could always come talk to him about it.
I remember leaving his office with a complete new sense of confidence. If this professor, who didn’t even know me, trusted I could handle this course, why was I doubting myself? And furthermore, I immediately got a sense of genuineness in this professor. He seemed not only impassioned in this subject, but committed to his students. Wasn’t this the type of professor one dreams of? I sensed something special about him. I stayed in the class. It challenged me; I knew little to nothing about religious history, nor how to write a college-level research paper. I was in his office nearly every week, and, as promised, he was always willing to help me, whether it was grappling with my understanding of the weeks reading, helping me analyze my primary sources or tinkering with my wording when it actually came to writing my paper.
By the end of the semester, I left with a solid A in the class, a new confidence in myself and a passion for history that I had not previously had. Last spring, when I begun my thesis, I knew exactly what I wanted to do, but, even more so, I knew exactly who I wanted to work with.
As a student, he has pushed me to challenge myself. He has constantly placed me out of my comfort zone, making me think deeply, read actively and write purposefully. Sometimes, in discussions with him, I’d say something, and he’d look at me and say “I don’t understand. Try again”. Looking at him, I knew he sometimes knew exactly what I meant. However I myself didn’t know what I meant. I needed clarity, and he recognized and demanded it. When I turn in drafts of my papers to him, he rips them apart, not because they are necessarily bad, but because he expects excellence. Mediocrity is unacceptable. Good is even unacceptable. I no longer read, research or write the same way I did four years ago, and, despite the dozens of other professors I have had, I entirely credit that to him, and him alone.
As a future teacher, I can only dream to be as inspiring as he is. Sometimes I think the only thing he loves more than the topic of religious toleration is sharing this love with others. His passion when he talks about it is contagious and his enthusiasm shines through in his teaching. When he talks, his arms flail, his face lights up and his voice fills with joy. He must teach similar lessons, year after year, yet you wouldn’t know it by watching him; by how excited he gets, one would think he was discovering these fascinating tidbits of history for the first time, when in fact the man has studied religious history for years. I want to teach with his level of excitement and zeal. I also want to teach with his intrinsically supportive nature. I want to instill confidence in my students, like he has done with me, and help them reach their full potential. I want to make them be the best they can be, and I want them to know that I genuinely believe in them. Because belief, as I have learned in regards to religious history, is a powerful thing, though not always productively powerful. Belief in your students can prove equally influential; equally strong. Because belief in a student, can translate to belief in that student’s self, as it did with me.
Academics aside, I have learned one immensely important thing from Jesse, that has nothing to do with research, reading, writing or even history itself. When discussing the Reformation leaders Martin Luther and John Calvin, and other religious radicals, he stated that he supposed he studied them because he didn’t understand or necessarily agree with them.
This I will never forget.
Because isn’t that, as people, what we should always do? When something’s unclear to us, before blindly disagreeing shouldn’t we be knowledgeable about what exactly we are disagreeing with? We all know those in politics who seem to detest the opposing viewpoint on an issue, but do so only because of the political title they claim. Or those who still to this day despise other religions simply because the person they worship may have a different name.
I may not agree with creationism, but I want to learn about it. I may not agree with privatization of social security, but again, I want to learn about it. Because instead of calling myself a Democrat or an Agnostic/Athiest, I want to know what those words mean. And to do that, I need to know the opposing view point, to fully formulate and support my stance. If you don’t have knowledge about the opposing side, how can you reputably disagree with it? Knowledge is necessary for debate. To fully grasp who we are and what we believe in, we need to turn to our resources and try to gain an understanding of the entire world around us. As Jesse has taught me, we need to learn to place ourselves in context.
(Apologies for the ramble; I will bid you farewell as I now must submerge myself in more thesis-ing)
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