"Life Takes Visa™"

I. Come What May

I address you from innumerable, overlapping ecosocial locations at once gendered, raced, placed, nationalized, classed, and so on into the incalculable folds of and beyond our being, folds that both enable and elude these determinations, folds that enable what we might term a being-in-common wherein we are exposed to one another, say, as speaker and addressee, as colleagues, as quanta of energy, and in our case as "unknown friends," to employ Emerson's fabulous phrase. I evoke our case because (a) neither one's intentions nor one's situatedness can delimit who is and is not an addressee and (b) should one receive a reply that betters one, that is, renders one more insightful than one had been, then one has discovered a friend, even if one presumed that he or she (though she has been more likely to suffer this exclusion) could not possibly take up the offer, call it, regardless of what anyone says, an invitation to participate in the shared project of humanity, come what may.¹

II. You Want Fries with That?

If you have ever advised undergraduates in a major that lacks a scripted, vocational future, you are familiar with the question: "What can I do with that?" The question is as predictable as the suggestion that anyone could have painted Rothko's slabs of color or Pollock's action paintings. But unlike the latter questions, we take the former seriously. In fact, you may have even worked the question of your major's f iscal promise into a self-effacing routine. Regardless, many have formulated answers to this nearly ubiquitous question, some quite compelling. One says, majors in the liberal arts, particularly the humanities, give access to skills that everyone wants: problem posing, critical thinking, communication, work in groups. (I say "give access to" and not "give" because these streets run two ways. We cannot learn for our students although we can learn from them. We should not suggest, therefore, that we have our hands on a mold that can shape most minds and hearts.) Advisers focus on these skills because they are crucial in a market that demands transferable capacities. The days of lifelong careers in one department, let alone one company dedicated to one market, are long gone. And so you need bones that can walk around. Another reply posits that over time, liberal arts majors, on average, earn more than those with bachelor degrees from professional schools and programs. In the words of Canada's Luther College, citing the Association of Universities and Colleges of Canada: "In terms of earnings potential, graduates with liberal arts degrees may initially earn less than their professional counterparts. Soon however, they catch up—over time, they even surpass the earnings of professionals." Both arguments are good ones, I think. They address the issue in good faith, that is, they respect the genuine concerns of those who stand before us, wondering whether they should pursue something that existentially claims them, even if the future thereby proves fiscally uncertain. Moreover, these replies show how liberal arts degrees can realize some narrowly defined instrumental cash values. Finally, without such answers, we are in a tight spot when it comes to parents, students, and those who would employ our flocks. One might say, it pays to have a reply to the question: "But what can you do with that?"

III. Earn to Live, Live to Earn

Having been a director of undergraduate studies and a department head, I have heard and employed arguments like those above. But when I do, I always wonder how many say, "With this major, you might be able to determine what is worth doing"; or, "If you apply yourself, you'll live a deeper, richer life"; or, "This is the way to prepare yourself for a democratic future." And even if you do, does the reply pass? Or can the asker rightfully say: "No, really"? (Having ventured each of these alternative replies, I can report that "No, really" is a likely retort.) Now, if the reply can be "No, really," this suggests that the de facto background conditions that render...