Education - what is its purpose?

(This picture is of a JBU classroom - taken from the JBU website)

When I read the book, one theme really jumped out to me – the theme of education. What is education for? What purpose does it serve? Paton doesn’t give complete answers to these questions, but he does give his readers some food for thought.

The most important reference to education is contained in one of Arthur Jarvis’ papers. Arthur wrote: “[My parents] taught me my prayers and took me regularly to church…From them I learned all that a child should learn of honor and charity and generosity. But of South Africa I learned nothing at all” (chapter 24). When this quote is read in light of Arthur’s previous paragraph, I think it means that his education included nothing about the major challenges that South Africa faced. The conclusion of Arthur’s essay, about devoting himself to South Africa, seems to prove this point.

Throughout the book, there is an ongoing discussion about whether or not education is the answer to crime. I don’t have space here to get into that, but it does raise interesting questions. Arthur’s quote takes the question of education’s purpose to a whole new level, however.

Arthur is saying that education must focus on more than just subjects such as science, English, or math. Instead, students should be taught about the major issues of their times – the issues which their generation must understand since their views will often change the world around them. At the root, what Arthur is talking about here is a world view. Students must be taught how to think – how to weigh various ideas and understand controversies. They must be taught how to evaluate the world in which they live. Otherwise, they may just accept the world as it is, without questioning why things like South African racism are the way they are.

So what will you do with your education?

A few questions: What has been your view of the purpose of education? What do you think Paton is trying to communicate about education? Is more education really the solution to crime? How can you get the most out of your education?

Going against the flow

I would ask outright if anyone besides my fellow bloggers is reading this, but such a thing is not easily said...

As I read the novel, I could not help but notice some repeated phrases and ideas. The one that I remember above all others is the phrase “such a thing is not lightly done.” Although I may have missed some instances, I counted the phrase repeated four times.

Why does it stand out to me? The simple reason is that each time the idea is expressed, it either breaks my heart because of the opportunity that was missed or it fills me with hope that all will be reconciled since men have finally learned to love each other. The phrase either highlights a barrier that still must be broken, or it shows the collapse of a barrier that was.

What is the root idea expressed in the phrase? I think it is simply an admission of man’s fear of his fellow man. It shows a place that I have been many times before, where I know what is the right thing to do, but my fear of laying my reputation on the line keeps me from doing it.

Because the struggle resonates so deeply with my own experience, I find it the ultimate triumph when a man goes against his fears and listens to his heart. The most memorable example for me in the book is when the young white man ignores the customary segregation and helps Kumalo exit the courtroom (p. 237).

How often do we allow our fear to limit us? In Proverbs we are told that “The fear of man lays a snare…” (Prov. 29:25, ESV). Why can’t we trust God to worry about the results and just do what we know is right? I guess such a thing is not lightly done.

(Image by Jay Koelzer, taken from images.com)

Justice and Prejudice Both Have a Blind Eye

These two pictures are of Capetown and Cape Point, South Africa, where such breathtaking beauty is still marred by racism, even though apartheid ended over 15 years ago.

"I was... brought up by honorable parents... They were upright and kind and law-abiding; they taught me my prayers and took me regularly to church... from them I learned all that a child should learn of honor and charity and generosity. But of South Africa I learned nothing at all."
-p 207

This quote is taken from one of Jarvis' articles that is his father reads after his untimely death at the hands of Kumalo's son. In the rest of the article, Jarvis writes of how he always loved South Africa and it seemed so beautiful to him, yet he never learned anything of the true hates and fears of his country and that therefore, he is going to devote his life to fighting them - not because he is courageous and worthy, but because it is only way he can "end the conflict of his deepest soul."
So, where then do we learn of prejudice and what do we do with that knowledge once we have it?

I first learned about prejudice in the 3rd grade when one of my friends told me about this weird guy named Hitler who wanted to kill all the Jews. I didn't believe him at first because genocide was an act beyond my comprehension. There was simply no reality in which one person would kill millions because of something they couldn't help. As I grew up, I learned about the Rwandan Genocide and South African apartheid and religious wars in India. The world which used to be so beautiful and full "sun and gold and oranges" was now filled with death and hate.

I also learned that with Jarvis' parents, prejudice is not always an active force. Inaction on the part of the ambivalent and complacent is what perpetuates prejudice. In my hometown, there is a clear racial and economic line dividing the city in half. North Tulsa is where poor minorities, the largest of which is still black, live and South Tulsa is where all the rich white people live. My parents, like Jarvis', taught me of honor, charity, and generosity and took me to church and were good people. And yet, they also taught me that North Tulsa is not safe. In their defense, the crime rate is significantly higher, but not allowing me to drive myself to a NHS service project in North Tulsa during the day is taking it a bit far. My parents would never say anything blatantly racist, especially considering my younger sister is adopted from South Korea. Yet, they don't fight the dividing line and the prejudice of others continues.

When were your eyes first opened to prejudice? What are ways that you and others inadvertently perpetuate the problem?What can we as JBU students do to combat the prejudice we find surrounding us? Would you be willing "to do what is right, no matter the cost"?

HOPE

Hey Friends! My name is Cassie. I'm going to be a second year English Ed major and I am so pumped to get started and meet some new folks in the fall! Hopefully YOU!!

Ho-Kay...

I believe that in this story we see HOPE as a result of one person helping another. HOPE is a result of sacrificing concern for one's own problems and caring for the problems of another. In doing this, the characters can move forward and inspire readers to do the same.

On the surface, Paton paints a very grim picture--an elderly priest finds his only son guilty of murder as a product of an unjust society that is slowly killing the values of traditional tribal living. Wow.

Where is the HOPE?

I love the end of Chapter 17 when Father Vincent instructs Kumalo in his time of greatest fear and sorrow, "do not pray for yourself, and do not pray to understand the ways of God." He then goes on to say that Kumalo ought to pray for Gertrude, for Absalom, for everyone except himself, and to give thanks where he can.

It is perhaps a result of this conversation that Kumalo goes back to take in the young impregnated girl at the beginning of Chapter 18. When he sees HER smile, he is able to "walk on like a man from whom a pain has lifted a little," and the HOPE continues.

So, I don't know if any of you had the joy of picking a senior quote for your yearbooks... this was one of my candidates and it seemed appropriate to share. "It is one of the beautiful compensations of this life that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Here are my questions: Where else do you find HOPE in this book? Are there other hopeful moments beyond one person helping another? Where do you see HOPE today? (Besides Obama's campaign slogan)? (By the way, this is in no way indicative of my political preferences--I just thought it would be a funny correlation). Is Obama's representation of Hope the same as Paton's? Are there stories of HOPE in your own lives? And lastly, (this is rhetorical folks), did Christ give us a model by sacrificing himself to give us HOPE?

feet of clay

Hello, my name is Isaac. I am a junior mechanical engineering student. Nice to meet you.

One thing that impressed me during my reading of the novel was the humanity of Paton’s characters. Those you might call the “heroes” of the story, people like Kumalo, Jarvis, and Msimangu; even they were partakers in the worst of human nature.

Kumalo, one dedicated to the service of God, is just as selfish and sinful as any one of us. This is the man who, for the sake of his own vanity, lies about having been to Johannesburg before. Here is a priest who cannot find it in himself to pray because he is overwhelmed by the tragedy of his experience. In one of the novel’s most poignant moments, it is Kumalo, in the very act of trying to speak truth to his brother, who ends up destroying the relationship through his deceitful words.

Yet it is this same man who accomplishes great good in the story. It is he who rescues three children from a life of impoverished hopelessness and brings them into his own home. It is he who the people of Ndotsheni love above all others and for whom they will accept no substitute. It is Kumalo in the end who returns to the God he has served for so long and lays everything before Him in prayer.

Clay feet. Even a statue of iron has feet of clay. Even the best of humanity has the greatest of flaws.

The real truth lies in Msimangu’s statement: “I am not kind. I am a selfish and sinful man, but God put His hands on me, that is all.” (p. 55) It touched a chord in me when Kumalo passed that same message along to Jarvis in their final meeting. At Jarvis’ earnest assertion that he is “no saintly man,” Kumalo replies, “of that I cannot speak, but God put His hands on you.” (p. 308) That is all that can be said of any of us, even the best.

In which other characters in the novel do we see flaws that tarnish yet in some way humanize their image?

Justice Belongs Only to the Just

Hi guys,

I'm Kristen and I'm a senior at JBU double majoring in Spanish and Political Science. I live off campus, but I should be around for orientation, so don't hesitate to ask about anything. Trust me, it can't possibly be as bad as my first week and I still go here, so no worries. Anyway...

Since we're supposed to post a picture, I though I'd show you guys a picture of what a typical neighborhood looks like in South Africa courtesy of my trip there freshmen year. This is the house of some missionary friends in a suburb of Capetown.

" The Judge does not make the Law. It is the People that make the Law. Therefore, if a Law is unjust, and if the Judge judges according to the Law, that is justice, even if it is not just. It is the duty of a Judge to do justice, but it is only the People that can be just." -p 191

Throughout the book, the idea of justice in relation to race is discussed. Each race has its own place in the social hierarchy - English speaking whites, Afrikaans speaking whites, colored people, then blacks who speak Sesotho, Zulu, Xhosa, etc. As the quote above states, it is the people who truly determine justice. How are we to determine who is truly just? To us, it seems abhorrent that races should be ranked in a hierarchy of privilege, but to South Africans, especially whites, it seemed as natural as breathing. The blacks were less educated and more prone to crime, hence their lower status. Yet, Arthur Jarvis, the white activist that Kumalo's son shot, argued that the blacks are only that way because the whites have denied them the opportunity to be anything else.

This raises many questions. Who is right - Jarvis or his father? Can we judge the white South Africans for their treatment of the black South Africans when they felt they were treating them justly and treated even other whites, such as the Afrikaners, badly? I haven't read far enough to see how Absalom's trial ends, but if it does turn out that he is more severely punished for killing a white man, even accidentally, than he would be if he killed a black man, does that make the judgment unjust or just the people? In short, why are we as Christians so certain that racial disparities in the justice system are wrong and what can we do to rectify these problems in our own justice system? Let me know what you think.

Mute Suffering, Deep Fear

Hi, my name is Esther and I will be a sophomore at JBU this school year. I am majoring in journalism. So if you have any questions about life at JBU, feel free to ask :D

Introductions aside….let’s get to the book!

I actually finished reading the book tonight…and I just got it Monday morning – so it’s a fairly easy, good read. I promise there won’t be any spoilers in this post though.

What struck me most at the beginning of the book was the concept (as my title implies) of the mute suffering and the deep fear of the natives. The mute suffering refers to Stephen Kumalo’s wife at the end of chapter 2: “She sat down at his table, and put her head on it, and was silent, with the patient suffering of black women, with the suffering of oxen, with the suffering of any that are mute.” I naturally didn’t like the concept of equating a “black” person with an ox, but I think it is very appropriate for the author to point out how the silencing of natives in South Africa caused them to be seen as not much more than cattle. Paton expands on this idea a little more when he later talks about the natives that came to Johannesburg to work in the mines and other menial jobs.

The bigger issue, for me, was the issue of fear. At the end of chapter 3, Stephen Kumalo’s feelings are described this way: “Deep down the fear for his son. Deep down the fear of a man who lives in a world not made for him, whose own world is slipping away, dying, being destroyed, beyond any recall.” Fear is a larger theme in the book than suffering, although the two are interwoven throughout. In Johannesburg, the white people fear the natives and crime. Out in the tribal areas, the natives fear the big city for the way it tends to steal their loved ones, never to be heard from again.

Both of these, the suffering and the fear, paint a picture of a country devastated by inner turmoil, torn apart by racial/ethnic discrimination.

This picture is what the cover of my version of the book looks like. I would guess that this is the sunrise at the very end of the book, although I do not know for sure. I know, I promised no spoilers – but it will suffice to say that in this scene, the fear and the suffering have come together – and yet in a small way, at the same time there is a glimmer of hope.

Question: What descriptions do you see in the book of people’s (sometimes contradictory) fear, especially of each other?

A New Book Selection

Greetings JBU Community:

For our 2010 freshman summer reading program, the JBU Reads committee selected Alan Paton's Cry, the Beloved Country. It is a beautifully touching story of brokenness and redemption in pre-Apartheid South Africa. We hope that you will enjoy reading the novel while watching World Cup Soccer (South Africa is the host nation).

Please read this blog throughout the summer. Every week, a new student will blog about his or her reading experience. We hope that you will engage the writer in dialogue by leaving lots of comments.

Dr. Jake Stratman

Assistant Professor of English

Coordinator of JBU Reads