Zerante 1

Liberal arts are the arts of freedom. Whose freedom? Your freedom. They are the freeing arts. Thats
the interesting thing, because you dont think of yourself as particularly unfree. There are deeper
levels of freedom than merely not being in bondage or debt. There are kinds of bondage which go
deeper than chains. The bondage of being ignorant. Ignorant of what? The ignorance that keeps you
in deepest bondage is the ignorance about yourself. Who you are. What you can do. What are your
capacities, what are your limitations. What are the things that make you who and what you are. If you
dont know, then you can be controlled by ideas that are not yours.
Herman Sinaiko, The University of Chicago
On Education
In his article Only Connect: The Goals of a Liberal Education, William Cronon sets out
to answer the questions: What do we mean by liberal education? and Why do we care so much
about it? (1). He begins by tracing the root of the word liberal to decipher the foundation of its
meaning. The roots connect to two words: freedom and growth. Cronons definition becomes more
interesting in relation to Herman Sinaikos understanding of liberal arts. Sinaiko deems liberal arts
the arts of freedom. In his discussion, liberal arts frees its students from the bondage of
ignorance, most notably, ignorance of self. Cronon and Sinaiko share the idea that liberal
education frees; it frees individuals from surface-level examinations; it frees individuals minds in
light of exploration; it frees individuals abilities to understand themselves, and their multitudes; it
frees individuals from isolation, allowing them, ultimately, to connect. Throughout my academic and
experiential learning at Loras College, I have discovered these definitions of liberal education. My
mind has been freed by the people and places I have explored at distinct moments in history; I have
freed my own mind in its attempts to understand the complexity in the people, and the world around
me; I have embraced, as Sinaiko suggests, my ignorance; and I have also realized the capacity my
mind has within itits ability to stretch, grow, and wonder. Its ability to see beyond one perspective
and learn another; its ability to be comfortable with gray areas and not knowingand the freedom
that accompanies these acknowledgments.
The fall of my junior year I took Teaching Writing and Grammar. The class focused on
relevant methods and strategies to effectively engage students in writing. As an English Literature
major, reading was my specialty. In my lesson plans prior to taking this class, much of my teaching
activities revolved around close-reading strategies and engaging students in complex literature.
Reading was, as I thought, so much more important as a skill than writing. Not surprisingly, writing,
at this point, was placed on the back-burner in most of my classes and imagined lesson plans. What
made me think this way? Why was I so sure I was right? While I am still learning how to accept that I
am not always right, and still learning to accept that there are sometimes not answers, it has been an

Zerante 2

on-going process. In my short stints in classrooms observing teachers and taking notes on
instructional practices, I have realized that just because I learned or think in a certain way does not
mean its the right way. There are, as unsettling as it can be, always gray areas. After the first day of
Teaching Writing and Grammar, I learned rather quickly that I was going to have to get used to
writing. As active learners, we were going to practice the strategies we read about in class; we were
going to be the students writing; we were going to test the theories. Not surprisingly, I changed my
mind. I learned that my ignorance, to use Sinaikos words, was not in what I knew or didnt know,
but rather in my stubbornness in advocating one skill as higher than anotherthis was not me. By
restraining my mind, by not allowing to look into a different perspective earlier, I had become
ignorant of myself, who I was (and am) as an educator.
Teaching Writing and Grammar completely changed the way I perceived writing and its
significance in the classroom. I learned the value of student voice, and the process students go
through to find it. I learned strategies to be creative and ways to incorporate diverse perspective
through writingthe exact goals I had for reading literature. I learned there was a power in writing
and being able to use language effectively. Teaching Writing and Grammar nurtured my mind, it
allowed my mind to growfreelyand it allowed me to acknowledge my ignorance, my
inexperience. The artifact that embodies my growth is the unit plan I created for this class that was
centered on effective writing strategies alongside the reading of Kurt Vonneguts war novel,
Slaughter-House Five. In my reflection in the unit plan, I explain: To make students want to write,

we have to allow them to write what they want (Zerante 20). Prior to taking this course, if I was
asked, What is the most important writing for students? I would have responded with character
analysis, symbolism, tone, and close-reading textual analysisa teacher-centered view of
student writing. This unit plan is an example of my growth and an example of the power of the
arts of freedom (Sinaiko). In the moments of active learning in this class, I learned how
important student writing is in the classroom. Writing frees. It frees thoughts and opinions;
questions and concerns; simply put, it frees student voice. My response, after taking this class, to
the question What is the most important writing for students? would now be, The writing that
gives them choice. Any writing that gives them voice because I would much rather read a paper
that a student wanted to write, than the one I made them write.
Reflecting back on this experience, I am reminded of Sinaiko as he writes, The ignorance
that keeps you in deepest bondage is the ignorance about yourself. Who you are. What you can do.
What are your capacities, what are your limitations. What are the things that make you who and what

Zerante 3

you are. I found a way, though my active engagement in this writing course, to apply what I learned
to my teaching philosophythe ultimate expression of myself in a professional standpoint. Without
this course, I would have never had the freedom to explore this ignorance of self; I would have
never realized the extent to which writing should be a key component to my planning; I would have
never learned this about myself.
A year later, the fall of my senior year, I signed up for the course Modern Irish Literature and
Culture. I originally registered for the class as a back-up, thinking that one of my courses would
have to be dropped. During this semester, I was taking Literary Criticism and my Thesis Capstone,
which were the culminating classes of my career as a literature major, and, as such, not to be taken
lightly. I left the classroom on the first day of Modern Irish Literature and Culture thinking, This is
going to be way too much, plus I was terrified of the professor. I opened up to my class list online,
ready to push the Drop button on the screen. I paused. I turned and looked at the syllabus one last
time, and thought, Ill give it a week. It ended up being one of my favorite classes at Loras, and the
terrifying professor became the most thought-provoking teacher I worked with in my academic
career. In the class, we examined Ireland throughout its cultural development under British colonial
rule. The literature that we examined became snapshots of a colonys attempts to separate and create
their own identity a part from the values of a mother country. We read novels, plays, poems, and
essays; we examined folklore and music; we watched documentaries and interviews. We were
immersed into Irish culture, actively and thoughtfully.
The final research paper of the class prompted us to focus on the representation of a key
element of Irish culturesuch as religion, gender, political violence, class, educationin one of the
works studied in the course. As illustrated, the prompt leaves a lot to interpretation. I chose to
examine Brian Friels play, Dancing at Lughnasa, and, specifically, the role of women. The title of
my formal research paper is Conventions of the Unconventional: The Role of Women in Brian
Friels Dancing at Lughnasa. In the paper, I examined the ways in which the internal family unit of
the Mundy sisters reflects a different development compared to the external turbulence of 1930s
Ireland. The paper challenged me. It forced me to critically think about the text I worked with
alongside the context. I answered questions, and asked questions, and researched. I became
completely invested in this paper. I became, in the true sense of the dispositions, a reflective thinker
and responsible contributor. Writing the paper and coming up with a thoughtful and argumentative
thesis facilitated my reflective thinking process. I had to work with the text and the context and I had
to try and solve a problem I noticed; a question that needed answering. Furthermore, this piece of

Zerante 4

writingas all writing in my discipline doesallowed me to be a responsible contributor to the

community of scholars that were already working with this text/context. I added my voice to the
conversation in thoughtful and productive ways. It was, by far, the best writing (besides my Capstone
Thesis) of my academic career.
To illustrate a final example of my Loras College experience, it would not be right to leave
out an experience I had during the spring of my senior year. In February 2015, four classmates, one
professor, and I flew to Phoenix, Arizona, to present a poetry unit plan we created for a middle
school in Dubuque, Iowa, at a national teachers conference. The conference was sponsored through
the Association of Teacher Educators (ATE), and the theme was Advocating for the Silenced. Our
poetry unit drew upon a diverse collection of poets: Sarah Kay, Li Young Lee, Gary Soto, Nikki
Giovanni, and Langston Hughes, which fit in perfectly to the theme of the conference. I learned more
from my colleagues at the conference than I ever imagined I would have. We shared plans for preservice teachers, and addressed hot topic issues of educationwe were putting the course work we
learned at Loras into the real world; we were active learners. I found a community at the
conference that shared my opinions about policy and teaching; and those I learned that had a different
opinion for me to consider. I knew, after my time at the conference with my classmates, I entered the
right profession. I was liberated, in every senseand rootof the word.
The conference taught me that I am contributing to a large and established community of
educators, and, for that reason, I am supported and understood. Above all, I learned to trust in the
strengths of my peers in helping me understand and achieve a goal and to have confidence in my own
opinions, while also acknowledging difference. The five of us, together, became responsible
contributors to our discipline through our time listening and sharing at this conference.
Being a part of the Loras communityin academic and experiential wayshas freed my
mind. I realize now that my mind is versatile and flexible; it is multifaceted and complex; it has the
capacity to hear and understand; the power to connect and enlighten; it has the freedom to think
critically and independently. As Cronon offers in conclusion, A liberal education is not something
any of us achieve. It is not a state. Rather, it is a way of living in the face of our own ignorance, a
way of groping toward wisdom in full recognition of our own folly, a way of educating ourselves
without any illusion that our educations will ever be complete (5). I look forward to the future
because Loras has prepared me for it. Loras has taught me, above all, to trust myself because I know
myself. I know who I am because of the liberal education I received during my four years. I enter the

Zerante 5

next stage of my life with a power not all students gain from their education. The power of
understanding that I will always be actively learning. My mind has, truly, been freed.