As an employee of a student leadership group at the University of Alabama, a group of which I am also an inducted member, I was recently charged with completing a task that bothered me greatly. You may know the name of the organization, but that is not important because this UA student group is much like any other.
I was asked to assist in formulating a ceremony in which our organization will recognize its inducted members who are on the verge of graduation. I suggested that these senior members stand and be recognized by having their name and major read aloud. My office counterpart insisted that this was not enough, that these members had accomplished something special, and that they should be allowed to submit lists of accomplishments, awards and extensive records of involvement to be read (a resume). I was baffled.
Does the competition on the modern college campus know no bounds? Must students, having already distinguished themselves by gaining entrance to a selective leadership club, compete further by partaking in a contest designed to measure who has the longest swinging resume in this academic jungle? Do these students, who have necessarily found success in numerous student organizations and fields of study, honestly need the extra validation that comes with standing in front of an audience and being once again reassured that they are in fact set apart, special and destined for success?
Unsatisfied with a diploma and a Latin honors designation, our administrators and students demand more competition. Contrivances such as UA’s Premier Awards and our spring Honors Day (an entire day set aside for congratulating ourselves) reveal a campus population made up of individuals consumed by a mad desire to elevate themselves over others in any way they can. We compete for awards, slots in exclusive clubs, admission to honor societies and internships. We rack up community service hours and just as quickly log them in an electronic database. (Is it service if you receive credit for it? A question for another day.) All of these accomplishments are transferred to that coveted record of achievement, the resume, which will then be measured against others as we compete for spots in graduate school and jobs.
Is this something to be lamented? Yes. Our competitive drive subverts the aims of a true education. In our battle to be perceived as intelligent, we forget to fill our minds with the knowledge that could make us that way. In our mad dash for perceived success, how many books get read from cover to cover? How many genuine yet stimulating conversations are carried out face to face? Not many, considering our seeming inability to argue civilly. How well do we develop our ability to express ourselves aloud and through writing? These are the components of a true education, and they are increasingly absent from campus life.
If these components are absent, then what are we? It would appear that we as individuals are in danger of becoming more narrowly focused planners. We aim to win, not to learn. We are more concerned with what our professors want than what they have to teach us. We seek only the correct answer, not the rationale. Universities made up of such grade-grubbing misers can only described by the words of writer David Campbell, “bargain-basement personnel screening agencies for business and government.”
Rather than buttressing an illusion of merit and success, I sincerely hope future UA alumni will view our school as I view it: the place where I took the first real steps of an intellectual journey. In order to preserve the integrity, I urge you, the student body, to remember that a number, a letter or a line on a resume cannot measure the most important achievements. Whatever else you have resolved to accomplish this year, consider this: disengage from the campus rat race. Rather than clawing tooth and nail over your classmates for fake success, read a book. Reflect thoughtfully on a topic that interests you. Do all of your readings, even when your grade doesn’t depend on it. I think you’ll find these activities worth your while.
Evan Ward is a senior majoring in history.
