GUEST COLUMNIST: The places you'll go

In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Robert Pirsig writes that removing grades exposes a huge vacuum in our system of education. Helluva vacuum. Face it: we wouldn't be here if it weren't for grades. Our parents are thrilled as co-conspirators, sending their darlings off to become successes in the world. They'd never dare to have us stop and think, "Why exactly am I going to college? What do I hope to accomplish? and How will college help me realize my goals?" As seniors in high school, most of us didn't ask, "Do I want to go to college?" or "What next?" Instead we considered such crucial factors as, "City or a college town? Small school or big?" And why? Because we don't like to step outside the normal motion of things. We're like hamsters -- take us off our treadmill, and we have no idea what the hell to do with ourselves. Mostly, it's about money. We can't get "real" jobs without a college degree. It's how the system works. Not go to college? That's scary. But Penn? Penn is safe. And as seniors at Penn we still don't have to ask ourselves that big, scary question, "What next?" (a question requiring much more concentration than, "Cav's or Smokes?" because the decision is made so easily for us. Assuming we've worked to get decent grades, and we look pretty in a suit, we don't even have to leave the crib -- er, campus -- to get a job that pays at least $30,000 a year. Don't know what you want to be when you grow up? Oh, well. No need to contemplate your place in the world. Just drop your resume for any variety of consulting jobs. All you have to figure out is whether you want to work in a city or a small town -- big company or small. So many privileges now because I went to Penn. I can join the Penn Club! I can be connected to important people! I can call up illustrious alumni and ask them to hire me! (Well, of course I wouldn't be so bold as to actually ask for a job -- I'll just schedule an "informational interview.") But what about the privilege of doing, as Conan O'Brien said it during his speech here earlier in the year, "the thing I want to do?" Where does that come into play? Who has taught me to figure out what that thing is, and make it happen? No one. I have learned to play by the rules and please authority. Any risk I've taken at Penn has been a safe one, one that I knew would result in an A-for-creativity, not a B-for-a-risk-my-professors-don't-approve-of. We all love Dead Poets Society and heroes like Matt Damon's character in Good Will Hunting, and then we turn back to our homework. We love to learn, but if we get a B on a paper instead of an A, few of us cherish the experience of researching the topic about which we wrote; instead, we quickly figure out the effect this grade will have on our GPA. Our heroes paint a world for us and we cherish their ideals -- but far too rarely do we apply these ideals to our own lives. Certainly, we all take some classes we enjoy, where the professor is engaging or the material interesting. "Yeah, that class about the Third Reich was great." "That Al Filreis sure can teach poetry." Well, so what? So the professor is brilliant, the syllabus to-die-for. The class "changes your life." It changes how you think, and how you see the world. Or, maybe you just know more now. Great. So what happens when the class is over? Too often it's like leaving the movie theater after a great film, the effect of which slips slowly away, unnoticed, as time marches determinedly on. Out of all the courses I've taken at Penn, two have stayed with me. Two out of 32 courses. That means .0625 of my education was worth my time. Let's say for a moment that I'm being cynical. Maybe we do learn a lot of important information here at Penn and develop important skills like critical thinking and writing. Well, what are we then to do with all this great knowledge, these critical thinking skills, this ability to articulate our ideas? "Wow, I can write A papers." "I have a theory about the culture of poverty" Then what? I wrote a paper. I have a theory. I'm graduating. Don't get me wrong -- I'm thrilled to be educated for the sake of education. I'm an English major, for God's sake, not a Wharton student. I just question whether an education is worth hours spent writing tame papers for classes I have to take, or studying for multiple choice exams; whether learning for learning's sake is worth money my parents spent a lifetime saving. After all, you can read a book or have a conversation without going to college. Learning for learning's sake doesn't have to cost $30,000 a year. So whether you're counting down the days until graduation, or if you still have some semesters left at Penn, think about what I've said. Contemplate your place in the world. Figure out what's important. "Big campus or small" won't really matter, in the long run. Learning how to live your life meaningfully, however, will. At the very least, use your educations well. Realize the responsibility we have as citizens with the power of a Penn degree.