As most of you are aware, Magis is fully engaged in communicating Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. One of our guest writers, Bill Schmitt (who also happens to be a longtime friend of Father Spitzer), teaches English at the college level and has chronicled some observations from his classroom experience. We at Magis found Bill’s reflections on the topic of “virtuous communication” illuminating and worth sharing.
Students in my freshman English class at a small Catholic college in Indiana turned the tables on me. During the past three semesters, I taught them important skills for writing essays and polishing their grammar. But, as I will show you, they taught me on a grander scale. They revealed their hunger for meaningful self-expression in the turbulent marketplace of data. They also helped me glimpse the breadth of the learning suited to young, idealistic communicators—the personal formation, a Catholic formation, that will help them manage tsunamis of information.
Many parents and teenagers focus on a college’s ability to impart knowledge for career success. However, they should not downplay the wisdom which leads minds, hearts, and souls toward ultimate happiness and culture-healing.
I thank my faith-filled department chair for encouraging me, right from the start, to foster both of those goals as an adjunct professor—educating writers for proficiency and cultivating a Catholic imagination within the campus community. I kept updating the syllabus for my “Writing and Rhetoric” course. One might say it became “a little bit business and a little bit heart-and-soul.”
“Virtuous communication” became a favorite theme in that syllabus. I added time-tested resources to read or view. I conducted style exercises pressing students to “get to the point.” Then, I followed up: What is your point? How and why have you formulated it this way? Are you considering your reader? What will add value to this information and to the conversation opportunities for that reader and others?
The students’ responses to these questions and to all our course activities (including “virtual learning” outside the classroom when Covid required) got me thinking: Curricula incorporating virtuous communication, linking indispensable skill-building with values that help to address the dangers of social polarization and our manipulative digital culture, can be among the most distinctive, intellectually potent offerings on today’s faithful Catholic campuses.
We can envision relevant “information age” classes as gateways, revealing to students (and their families) our many connected assets. They will discover a holistic “core curriculum” that students—at least those cultivating the three theological virtues—are likely to appreciate. It recognizes both their need to build careers and our Church’s need to elevate God’s disciples who will enter the global “mission field.”
Allow me to pitch this idea, intended as an encouragement to supporters of Catholic education across all the disciplines, amplifying voices from my classes. I have clipped quotes from essays they submitted for grading. The texts are gently edited, and some of them may reflect a bit of pandering to the professor, but I vouch for their validity. Their essays indicated that assigned readings and reflections—plus key themes embodied by authors, online videos, guest speakers, and my recollections from a multimedia journalism career—helped make their semester’s potential launch pads for servant-leadership through words and mind frames.
At least that’s my interpretation of what they wrote after we had discussed such subjects as respect for language, footnotes, and compositions as vessels of truth; enthusiasm for storytelling and sharing ideas as authentic “witnesses”; confidence enabling creativity and curiosity; and the notion that robust communication is a team sport, not a narcissistic indulgence in verbal and visual junk food.
Because a rhetoric course today must assess the media and messages of the internet, we explored the good and bad in online immersion—the juxtapositions of compelling expressiveness and disappointing passivity within artificial realities and confirmation bias.
I saw students genuinely intrigued by diving into the poetic imagery of Maya Angelou, the compelling homiletics of Bishop Robert Barron, the political philosophy of John Stuart Mill, the handy tips for public speakers from our local “Toastmasters International” chapter president, and the reader-centric humanism undergirding the checklist of rules in the classic Elements of Style.
By far the best tour guide for the course’s Christian trajectory was Pope Francis. Our spring 2021 reading list included the papal messages for the Church’s “World Communications Days” (WCD) of 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021. I will not claim Francis is a flawless communicator, but he did expand upon many factors influencing post-modern interactions. He pointed to remedies in Church documents, in the genius of Scriptures and saints, celebrations of the divine as portals to the really real, and prayerful calls to emulate Jesus as the great storyteller.
What did my students say about their semester-long journeys?
First, one must acknowledge that some said they had not been prepared for the zeal of virtuous communication during their high school years. One repentant essayist said she had habitually handed in papers without re-reading them “because I was always in a rush to turn them in on time.”
Another admitted a utilitarian approach to research, and hence to learning: “I would begin writing my essay without any outline, and then as soon as I reached my first argument in my first body paragraph, I began my research.” Now, after this college course, he said, “I am able to give the reader a much better chance at fully grasping and understanding the argument I am making.”
Our method of fine-tuning student essays incorporated peer review, where everyone’s work was “edited” by at least one classmate. A student essayist was grateful for “the conversations that revolved around how to better structure my essay so that it would make the most sense to the reader.” This was openness to diverse perspectives.
Additional replies reflected expansions of students’ perspectives:
A lesson about solidarity: Our pen-wielding pilgrims were attracted to the inherent goodness in communicating well, without indifference or malice. In his 2019 WCD message, Pope Francis connected communication, community, and communion—a unity found when persons seek the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Desires for common ground can help us rise above polarization. Students described it this way:
A lesson about seeking truth in a relationship. Students realize they usually receive only part of the facts in a news story; their hunger for truth must drive an outward gaze and proactive curiosity. Rather than settling for relativism or the first Google search result, they like the idea of using the internet to conduct more panoramic inquiries and stepping out to hear the voices of the marginalized. My essayists reacted this way:
A lesson celebrating God in heartfelt stories. Students can discover storytelling as integral to good communication—an idea Pope Francis confirms (in his WCD 2020 message) by noting God’s storytelling prowess in Scripture and Jesus’ ability to touch people’s lives through parables. Francis warns that many stories are destructive; they may be mere narratives (or algorithms?) that are pre-determined and prejudicial. Stories shared passionately with others over time—and shared with the Lord in a relationship of discernment—are models for embracing history and solidifying culture. I received these comments:
A lesson about helping us navigate through life. In a world where myriad media are a pervasive and mixed blessing, excellence in communication brings focus and accessibility to our interactions. This excellence begins with basics like competent grammar and outlines. But the students learn it goes much farther than competent grammar and outlines; it must be the product of wise, diligent persons who use all the tools for countering our “post-truth” tendencies. Students want to use their talents as instruments of peace found in trust and reality. The resources of Catholic wisdom—and a liberal arts education properly understood—provide anchors and navigation for immense creativity within guard rails of consistency and coherence. Reflections included:
These lessons suggest that the enticement of plentiful, recognizable “skills for tomorrow’s communications workplace” can help to reveal Church-rooted education uncovering where worldly and heavenly insights intersect. Beyond a livelihood, students envision a life well-lived. Of course, college disciplines other than writing and rhetoric are ordered to these same discoveries.
As Pope Francis and other “mentors” taught us in our course, the best “directions” for a journey toward worldly and eternal rewards connect all that is good: Scripture, Catholic Social Teaching, and catechetics about God-given dignity; a spirituality of communion; morality, ethics, and logic; admiration for good governance and “civics” embracing local, national, and global community; humility and curiosity in the sciences; respect for history and tradition; and appreciation of true beauty in arts, music, and all talents gifted by the Creator.
My students helped me deduce how Catholic college students can benefit from their experience of learning and utilizing these intersections of ideas as writers and rhetoricians. That awareness seems more urgent than ever in a world craving everyday evangelization; such training can be a big boost for four years well spent. Since love is the greatest virtue, Pope Francis is wise to remind us that “love always communicates.” One student reminded me this way: “I have found resources I trust, information I’m passionate about, and ideas that I hope to learn more about in the future. I never want to become stagnant or flatfooted with my communications. I’d be neglecting to focus on one of the most important and amazing parts of being a human being—the ability to connect and grow with others.”
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