March 25, 1998
E-mail a Response
To Defy the Cornell Tradition
Opinion
Cornell University nurtures a mysterious force, one that, while not absent elsewhere, is particularly potent here. With my own eyes I have seen it shroud spring breaks in stress, cause sorority girls to turn a shortened temper on their own sisters, and even to go so far as to hurl our fellow classmates to the depths of the gorge.
Most students would be quick to point out that these are all direct consequences of our obscene workloads and the professors who inflict these problems upon us. This is exactly what the force wants you to do, for the Cornell workload (second highest in the United States) has always been the scapegoat that the evil energy hides behind.
Our assignments are both innocent and invulnerable to our blame, and it is time for us to instead aim our collective efforts towards eliminating our real enemy - the mentality we have towards our work. You know the mindset well - you'll say to a friend, "Hey girlfriend, how you doing?" to which she will respond, "Oh, all right. I have a problem set and a paper for Thursday, but other than that - you know." The question is an inquiry into an emotional state, and yet the response is always work-related. We allow our assignments to invade every facet of life, from our interactions with people to the thoughts in our heads.
Similarly, try asking your pre-med friend, "How's biochemistry going?" You'll invariably receive a generic Big Red response: "It's alright - prelim yesterday, but I'm keeping up." Never will you hear, "It kicks ass! We're learning about the secrets of life! I feel so lucky to have this opportunity!" Though we let our work affect us psychologically through stress, the only positive emotion we derive from it is the joy closing our books when weĠre done.
We see our classes too much as a burden and not enough as the wonderful luxury that they really are. This is not necessarily our fault - the inherent structure of Cornell encourages this mindset. Unlike other prestigious schools that coincidentally don't have the same reputation for stress, Cornell's seven-college system creates the atmosphere that we are here not just to learn, but, more importantly, to prepare for a career. The College of Engineering, for example, has every intention of piping its students directly into technical jobs, and that's why they allow their students less than one humanities elective per semester.
With the exception of Arts and Sciences, we are all enrolled in trade schools. When we are instructed, "Make yourself an architect" or, "Apply yourself and you will learn to run a hotel," it becomes difficult to remember that learning in the Ivy League was once an exciting, scholarly activity.
On this campus, which is probably more future-oriented than any, classes are seen not as a privilege, but as an obstacle to overcome on the way up the ladder to success. It is this very mentality that leads to all kinds of problems, particularly by killing our passion and motivation. Instead of being driven to learn by curiosity and self-fulfillment, our mindset reduces us to rats fueled by adrenaline as we desperately try to escape the prospect of failure. The very field that used to excite us the most becomes associated with all-nighters and Vivarin as the passion is slowly consumed by a growing resentment.
Many people will justify this soul-numbing outlook with the argument that competing on the highest level necessitates making sacrifices and accepting drudgery as a way of life. Of course, I could also argue that Shakespeare probably viewed writing as more of an outlet than a chore, da Vinci was driven more by curiosity than anything else and most of our major historical figures achieved their greatness through passion for their work. By accepting the dousing of our inner fire in the name of competition, we are only putting ourselves at a disadvantage. If we need guilt as a substitute for enthusiasm, then perhaps we're missing our calling.
A negative mindset even inhibits the mechanism of learning itself. When the brain is immersed in a tense environment, subtle defense programs are activated. These processes occupy part of our minds, as well as create a level of constant background noise that interferes with connection building at the neural level. If a mode of thought can inhibit learning at the most basic biological level, then that should be reason enough for its abolition.
So now, even if we all recognize the problem, how do we begin to rid our campus of this self-nullifying mentality? First of all, when we are talking with somebody, we must resist the tendency to drift towards work-related subjects. By focusing on topics that don't affect our transcripts, we'll get an escape from what's usually omnipresent on our minds, and we might even start talking about something more interesting than prelim schedules.
All we need is a mindset shift - to see learning as a freedom, not a chore. We must stop complaining, we are not soldiers fighting a war, nor are we martyrs afflicted by our workloads. We are slaves to no one but ourselves. When we sit down to read our textbooks, we should remember how few people are actually privileged enough to have access to the secrets we're learning. Through all this, remember the purpose is not to delude ourselves into thinking we are happy, but to recover a central tenant of education that was lost long ago.
Despite all of the wonders Cornell provides us, many students trudge through each day in misery. By renouncing the mentality that college is an obstacle, we can only enhance our learning and make our years in Ithaca that much better. We live on a beautiful campus, surrounded by the most-enlightened town in America, consuming what is debatably the best dining hall food anywhere. In theory, these are the best years of our lives. Whether or not we realize it depends on what else is on our minds.
Nathan Wilson is a junior in the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences. The North Façade appears every Monday.
|
|
