A theology class began the torture for me; a class where I
was wrangled into critically analyzing the world, made to “struggle” with the fact that there were religions and faith traditions other than my own. The dialogue around this idea of “something more” pierced my daydreaming ability and interrupted the tantalizing vision of my next meal at
the Caf. Is it so important for me to understand that when I win a VMA for Best New Artist I don’t necessarily have to thank both God and Jesus because according to Christian tradition they are the same essence? I don’t think so. Theology has no relevance outside of the walls of a church,
let alone at a university run by Jesuits. Each Xavier student, unless he or she happened to arrive with the salvation of 40 AP credits, is affronted by the burden of the core curriculum from the beginning of his or her college experience. Brainwashed into thinking that theology, philosophy, history and other career-irrelevant subjects are
somehow important, we trudge through the over-theoretical
and impractical swamp of academia that is the core – unless of course we are one of the few who elect to rot away
as college professors, saturated by monsoons of intellectuality and theoretical discourse, only to continue torturing their posterity. Unlike those perpetual college
students, I have chosen to venture into the real world. As an
Occupational Therapist, I surely have no need for a philosophy class in ethics. Not only does it overcomplicate and confuse me, it prevented my first year of college from being the preferred debaucherous masterpiece
I had hoped. Increasing my already strained college
work load, I spent countless evenings writing about the
ethical roles and implications of a therapist in today’s
world, an insignificant task for someone who can quite easily perform his job without listening to stories of a
philosopher who somehow manages to get lost in a cave. I have no use for ethics when it comes to therapy.
Finally, the history credits were the most useless of the
core. Since the beginning of first grade we have learned about the history of the United States and our gallant forefathers fighting fearlessly for our freedom. Assuredly, I was in no need of a Latin American History class to make me aware of the wonderful achievements the United States
has made in its humanitarian aid to Latin America. It was only expected that we would assist the Latin Americans in their efforts to become “first-world countries” and in removing the many communist threats throughout the Cold War era. It seems unnecessary to give entire lectures
on the abundant CIA assistance that has been present in Latin American governments for decades; is it not obvious that the United States simply wants the best for its Latin American brothers and sisters? With confidence, we could have assumed these facts without hearing about
them in an entire class. Now, as a senior, I peer back
on my years in college, wanting back the time wasted on theological, philosophical and political debates. I can almost taste the freedom to float through life completing only the necessary tasks required by my career, refraining
from any critical analysis of my role in this society. Graduation will be my liberation. I do have to say the only
real benefit I will acknowledge from debating theology professors and writing philosophy papers is my honed ability to form coherent and exquisite thoughts concerning the critical analysis of the core curriculum’s role within the Xavier students’ experience. Now, my only hope is that
the student body will heed my warnings and use the time spent in core classes to do homework for others.