Critical Thinking and American Academic Culture

It goes without saying that there are inherent flaws within the American academic system, particularly at the high school and undergraduate levels. These problems are born of the culture of “teaching (or learning) to the test” present within these systems. I’m not talking about the meritocracy of schools based on standardized test scores (which is, in itself, a massive problem which I will not here address for fear of pulling out all my hair), rather the lack of critical thinking among students and the short comings of methods used by teachers (not across the board; I’ve had several teachers who actually excelled at this, you know who you are) to encourage it.
Firstly, let me say that this problem is in part due to the culture of laziness that has become toxically present in American culture as a whole, which plays a large role in what I will go into here. I will use as examples two classes in which I am currently enrolled; a political science class and a philosophy class. It is important to note that I’m not saying critical thinking is more important in these fields than in others, quite the opposite, it is important in every aspect of life, these are just the examples I am using.
On the one hand, we have my political science class. This class features what would, in a perfect world, be a good method of encouraging critical thinking among students. We are assigned for each class period one or two pieces of academic literature to read, after which we are to think of a thought provoking question to be used during in class discussion. The catch? You don’t necessarily have to read the entire thing to be able to write at least a passable question. This is one example of learning to the test, of doing just enough to get the grade, of being too lazy to do the work thoroughly and properly. I’m by no means saying that I’m not guilty of this, because I am; I am, however, saying that this example represents one of the problems I see in American academia. While this method is intended to encourage critical thinking, it accomplishes the opposite; because it isn’t necessary to complete the reading in its entirety, thereby taking in all the information therein, it is not critical thinking that is achieved, rather a honing of BS skills, and I don’t mean bachelors of science.
On the other hand, we have my philosophy class. This class takes what I see as the opposite approach to critical thinking. The assignments in this course also consist of readings; however the written portion is not some thought provoking question, rather a summary of what you read. Assignments like this have been lamented since middle school for their simplicity, (supposed) lack of critical thinking, and lack of academic merit in general. I would contest, however, that they accomplish the task better than the method explained above. Because getting a good grade requires completion of the reading assignment from start to finish, the student is forced to take in all the information in the text, or at least look at it enough to write a brief summary. While not directly or intentionally targeting critical thinking, this method certainly exposes the student to more information and, thereby, provides a better understanding of the course material.
As I stated above, the real issue is American laziness. Methods like the ones above are necessary because American students, by and large, don’t want to think critically, they want to get good enough grades to walk across the stage in June. It will not be until this overarching cultural issue is resolved that students will learn for the sake of learning, think because they want to think, study to gain knowledge, as opposed to merely going through the motions to get the grade.

-Sam

A Piece on Paganism

When you hear the word “paganism”, you probably think of stuff like witches, tarot cards, upside down stars, and some seriously archaic “B.C.” cultures. While none of that is necessarily out of the picture or incorrect, I would like to take a little time and space here to discuss a type of paganism – or neo-paganism, rather – called Ásatrú.

            Ásatrú [Ow-sa-tru] is the belief in the old gods of the Germanic and Scandinavian Northmen of the first millennium (and beyond); you probably think of them as Vikings. The word Ásatrú comes from the Old Norse language and means “one who believes in the Æsir (the gods of Asgard).” In order to discuss Ásatrú as a religion, I feel I must first provide a brief overview of some key tenants of the religion. Firstly, Ásatrúar (those who practice the religion) believe that the universe is separated into nine realms or worlds: Asgard (the realm of the Æsir, gods of war, life, and greater things), Vannaheim (home of the Vannatrú, the “lesser” gods of more mundane things like agriculture, natural aspects, and fertility), Midgard (the realm of men, i.e. Earth), Swartalfheim (the realm of the dark elves, or dwarves as we call them), Alfheim (realm of the elves), Jottunheim (the realm of the giants), Hel (the realm of the dead, not Hell as in Judeo-christian theology, rather a place where normal people go when they die, ruled by the goddess Hel), Hel is located on the icy shores of Niflheim (this is the icy of the two primordial elements), and Musspelsheim (the fiery primordial realm). All of these realms are inhabited by their own peoples, about whom there are hundreds of thousands of myths and legends, some of which are important parts of Ásatrú and some, merely amusing tales for bedtime. I wish I could go into depth about some of these tales, but I haven’t the time nor anywhere near the space to do them justice.

            I suppose the best way to give a brief explanation of Ásatrú is to recount my own experiences with the religion. I was raised a Presbyterian Christian; my family are all very strong in their faith in the Christian God and his Son, as was I. It was around the age of seventeen that I discovered Ásatrú through the brother of a teammate. I’d always found the old Norse legends about heroes like Sigurd and the gods like Thor, Odin, and Tyr to be fascinating and fantastic, so I eagerly accepted an invitation to go with my teammates brother to a Moot (monthly gathering to do ritual) on the first Saturday of the month. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. We (myself and a surprising number of Ásatrú who’d also come) gathered around an antler and bone covered stone altar flanked by on either side by two roaring fires, all in a clearing in the woods under the stars. Unsure what to expect, I paid very close attention to the goings on as a loud and primitive tattoo of drums began to sounds. As the drums continued, a priest walked out of the trees, his face and bare chest streaked with ash as he shouted Old Norse prayers to the four directions and to certain gods as he began the Moot. Following some more traditional speech on the gods and a more contemporary sermon on self-reliance, a bowl of mead (honey wine), was passed around and everyone took a drink. I was struck by the amazing energy I felt during Moot; it was like a primeval force held everyone there together in some regard, as if some connection stronger than any I’d felt had been forged. Following Moot, we left the woods and went back to the field where the longhouse was and gathered around a huge bonfire for what is called Symbal ([SUM-ball] which is a ritual during which everyone makes a toast in a circle three times, the first to a god, the second to an ancestor or hero, and the third is a boast or a vow of some deed). During Symbal, everyone was more relaxed and it turned riotously funny at some times and touchingly somber at others as people told stories of past exploits or toasted their dead grandfather.

            So what draws someone to something as antiquated as Ásatrú, you may ask? I can only speak to my experiences on the matter; it’s different for everybody in every religion. Since that first Moot I’ve been to two more as well as other gatherings including work parties and the like. I’ve always been met with nothing short of kindred spirits and what I can only describe as the best of Southern hospitality. I realize that these experiences could be had quite literally anywhere under any circumstances, so I’ll try to explain a little about Ásatrú itself that drew me to it.

            Firstly, as many of you know, I, as a VMI Cadet, hold honor and integrity in the highest regard. This is perhaps the biggest reason that I felt drawn to Ásatrú, the fact that, in its culture, there is nothing higher than honor, than being able to do what you say and keep your vows. I love the idea that men are accountable for what they say and do, regardless of circumstance, and that someone is expected to maintain their honor no matter what. The second, but equally influential aspect of Ásatrú with which I feel a strong connection is the idea that a man mustn’t be passive in his doings. That is to say that if a man wishes to accomplish something, he can’t accomplish it by sitting around and wishing it to happen, he can’t (although I think it helps) just pray for something to happen or for the gods to do it for him, he has to go out and fucking do it for himself. The gods smile on those who serve themselves, on those who are strong and have a strong will. This concept aligns very closely with my own feelings on the subject; I believe strongly that those who are passive in their lives and wait for things to happen are sheep and doomed to be devoured by the wolves who are aggressive and go out and make things happen. Thirdly, and the last to be discussed here, are the strong bonds of family and kinship that are found in Ásatrú. Ásatrúar believe very strongly in one another and will do anything to help or protect their family and friends. This is something I can relate to very well as an American, a Cadet, and as a man in general. I mean, even after you’ve lost all you have in this world, after everything changes, your family is still there with you and nothing can change that. I would gladly kill or die for any of my family and those friends of mine who have come to be my brothers.

            These are just a few broad reasons why I’ve started down the path of Ásatrú. Short of going into deep philosophical and spiritual talks (which may well follow, pending the interest here shown), I can’t get too intricate and maintain a level of comprehensible meaningfulness, as a cursory brush over anything of a religious nature does it no justice. At any rate, I hope this has been at least mildly interesting and informative. As I said, I may bang out some more specific things, perhaps on certain gods themselves, specific aspects of Ásatrú, etc.

            This has been a poorly organized and hasty exposé on Ásatrú by Sam Crawford.

                                                            Rah Virginia Mil.