The Benefits and Burden of Academia- The Writer-Professor

The past two posts have focused on how there may be too much catering to the current view and understanding and not enough exploration into new areas of study, utilizing the New York Times Magazine "It's all about Teaching." Also, as Barry Schwartz points out, it may be that in our market crazed society, the Universities have no choice but to meet the demands of the students. But as discussed previously, when the market encroaches into non-market sectors we lose. Though universities may be making an honest effort to accommodate students, it may not serve them as well as we intend.

Today's post discusses another article in the NY Times Magazine. The article is entitled "Those who write, Teach," by David Gessner.

The Writer-Professor
Gessner discusses his transition from a full-time writer to life as a professor. The benefits are measurable. A steady income and the benefits of health care, the chance to teach eager students, and on the whole a more stable life. But Gessner points out that a question about this transition is often left unanswered. "What exactly does all this teaching do to our writing? And what, if anything, does it mean for a country to have tenured literature?"

Gessner eloquently describes what may be lost for the person in this dual position. "There was an essential fanaticism in all their efforts (Thoreau, Dickinson, Melville), then sense of an entire life thrown into the great project of creating works of art. Even if we grant that you can be as original within the university as up in your garret, we must concede the possibility that something is lost by living a divided life. Intensity perhaps...the creation of literature requires a certain degree of monomania, and that is, at least in part, an irrational enterprise. It's hard to through your whole self into something when that self has another job."

I believe that Gessner is not alone in feeling that he lives a divided life. I feel that many of us may feel drawn towards one area of work, only to be tethered by our "obligations" to another area. Those in all levels of education may feel this tug-of-war. This dual between passion and pragmatics. How do we rectify the two?

For Gessner, as for many I believe, compromise is difficult to reach. He worries that his "own words may have grown tame along with [his] life." Later he writes, "I don't know how long I can survive in captivity...I do love teaching and recognize how lucky I am to be living for at least part of each day in the real world, but while I try to be commonsensical, lately I have begun to feel something rising up inside me."

The answer?
This internal battle is not new and the question is not an easy one to solve. I do have an answer, but it's more of a suggestion and one's own path can only come from within.

What we must realize is that we all can contribute to society, and an individual must find the area of work, where he or she contributes best. Some of us are called to teach, some of us are call to write. But we must understand that "Those who Write, Teach" as the title says. Meaning that if an individual feels he/she can educate, challenge, probe the minds best through literature they must write literature. If an individual feels they are best suited to teach in a more formal way, it is their duty to teach. After all someone must teach students the literature that is out there. If a teacher or writer decides to cross over and eventually comes back, his/her students (or readers) will be better off, because of the gained experience.

It's a dilemma, how to use our time. But all we can do is go for it for who know how long we've got.