Forms of intellectual production

One reason I’ve done well in school in the past is that the traditional way in which students are graded – tests, term papers, presentations, etc. – is a form at which I excel. If I was graded based on my ability to compose original music or paint or sculpt I would not be as good a student.

As the archetype of normativity in American society (white, male, educated, etc.), I don’t often have to think about non-dominant forms of intellectual production in school. People conform to what I know and share their thinking in ways I can understand. I was thinking about this in my trip to Ecuador when we met with representatives of the Latin American Council of Churches and they showed up with PowerPoint presentations. I’m pretty sure PowerPoint is not a traditional Ecuadorian form of communication but they implicitly knew that if they wanted to be taken seriously by us that’s what they needed. My heart sank, as it always does when I see PowerPoint, but I was also gratified because I knew what to expect.

Anyway, I’m taking a class this term in which the form of my intellectual production is a little different. The final project, on which the entire grade depends, requires me to get involved with and learn about a local social service and/or religious agency in town. I almost didn’t take the class when I realized this. What? No term paper? You mean I can’t do well in class by spending several hours in the library and putting together my research? I have to – gasp! – get out in the world?

It’s turned out to be a really delightful project and actually led me to learn more about New Haven and get involved in some of the really neat, non-Yale things that go on in this city. I find that often happens when I stretch the bounds of what counts as normal and usual.

Books, books, books

One of the advantages of a place like Yale is, naturally, the library, or, rather, libraries. In particularly, the divinity library has a wealth of mission-related materials – mission theology, mission history, mission memoirs. (A couple of the memoirs are in the rare books library, which makes me feel super-important when I go read those.) I have been taking full advantage of these resources while here. Perhaps too much advantage. Here’s the stack of library books on my desk at the moment. (When the pile starts falling over, then I’ll start returning them.)

Here’s a fun fact for those of you from the Diocese of Western Massachusetts. Stephen Bayne, a former rector of St. John’s, Northampton (which now has a parlour named after him), went on to be the first executive officer of the Anglican Communion in the 1960s and was really critical as the Communion started growing in the post-colonial era. And to think I’ve preached in the same pulpit as him!

One problem is that if you spend your time reading these books all the time, you don’t have any time left for the books you have to read for class. That might explain why I am pathologically behind on my school reading.