English majors grapple with the “where will this take me?” question on a daily basis. It looms over us when we’re six hours into a critical essay, when we’re holed up in our rooms instead of outside with our […]

Since I’m struggling to think of what to blog about, I figured I would just write about a poem I really like. I came across Louise Glück’s book The Wild Iris one day last winter when I was in the library looking […]

While flipping through Fishouse, I found Lucy Anderton’s “Eve’s Sestina for Adam” and was immediately drawn to its sheer attitude. Here is the unapologetic voice of a woman who wants more and goes for it. Eve’s is […]

In the Middle Ages, Richard Abels explains in his NY Times article, chivalry was a code of conduct followed by the military nobility which called for them to have “skill in combat, courage and loyalty to one’s […]

I think too much. My mind is constantly at work filling itself with intricate but tangled thoughts and ideas, neurons rapid-firing, and I often find it hard to keep up with myself. I think this is one of many […]

Everyone’s been posting about their own experiences struggling with what it means to be an English major, so I figured it was time for me to jump on the bandwagon. Why did I choose this major over one of the many […]

As we all know, English as a field of study can take a student in numerous directions: literary analysis, creative or technical writing, linguistics, journalism, speech pathology, early language learning, ESL, teaching any of the aforementioned, and many more areas not directly related but in which an English background can prove very useful. The English discipline, one could argue, is inherently interdisciplinary because it lacks the straightforward “start here and follow these steps to the finish” signage of the more scientific disciplines, relying instead on multiple activities of academic interest, of which many are also relevant to other studies, to define itself. English, when viewed side-by-side with “the clearly defined aims and quantifiable achievements” of the sciences and social sciences, can seem “rather woolly and ill-focused” (Moran 20). The field also “does not make a strong connection between education and training for future careers” (Moran 18). This all contributes to it being a “hotchpotch of contending aesthetic, theoretical and scientific discourses” (Moran 41), and to it being called interdisciplinary by so many. This title might have a negative connotation for some, because it suggests a lack of direction and identity; however, behind this title I see a wealth of possibilities and freedom which make English such a uniquely rewarding and worthwhile subject to study.

Being in both a literature and a creative writing course this semester, I am experiencing firsthand how interdisciplinary English really is. I have noticed a lot of overlap between the two classes. I was introduced to intertextuality in a creative nonfiction piece in my morning class, then discussed its importance in literature that afternoon. I learned from one professor that making too strong of a link between an author’s life and their work is highly discouraged, then was taught the term for such an error by another professor. There has even been overlap of reading material, with both courses’ syllabuses listing required reading of Jean Toomer. These examples are more than just coincidence- they prove how multifaceted English is, and that no matter what you are specifically focusing on within the subject, meaningful connections to other sub-concentrations can always be made. English has never been a “pure” discipline despite attempts to make it so; instead it is a patchwork quilt of ideas, interests, and activities built upon the loose foundation of an ever-evolving language. Where some may see a disaster, I see an open door.

I have always truly enjoyed learning, and taken every opportunity I could to learn something new. No fact is too obscure or too seemingly unimportant. Take, for instance, what I found myself doing the other day in the Milne library after my brain was feeling a bit fried from my schoolwork: researching, and compiling a list of, strange units of measurement. Voluntarily. For my own amusement. Human beings are naturally curious, and learning satisfies this curiosity. Learning is a kind of growing which enables us to move forward as individuals and communities. It is a powerful tool, and helps people transcend both literal and figurative boundaries. And a lot of the time, it can actually be fun.

I often ask myself what the purpose of education is. Is it to satisfy that human curiosity, expand the mind, enrich students’ lives and prepare them for the responsibilities of citizens of modern democracy, promote higher thinking, and inspire lifelong learning? Or is it to tirelessly drill facts into their heads and get them ready for specific jobs, in the process deterring them from seeking knowledge outside of what is absolutely necessary? In other words, what is the value of earning a degree, for example, that ends up having no hand in the earner getting a job post-graduation?

I believe there should be a lot more to getting an education than just memorizing pieces of information necessary for your future career. A “liberal” education should satisfy both meanings of the term: it should be concerned with a general broadening of knowledge and opening of the mind, while also being an education applied generously, and in copious amounts. Aristotle, who was the first to organize knowledge into disciplines, believed that “there is a kind of education in which parents should have their sons trained not because it is necessary, or because it is useful, but simply because it is liberal and something good in itself” (Aristotle 1961: 337, as cited by Moran 4). In Aristotle’s time, education was about breeding scholars and thinkers. But as Moran points out, “the [classical divisions of knowledge] were eventually transformed by market forces and institutional changes” (Moran 4). As the world grew more complex and advanced, there came about “a perceived need to relate education to specific economic, political and ecclesiastical ends” (Klein 1990: 20, as cited by Moran 4). With this, it seems, the “liberal” in “liberal arts” has been lost, and the learning has been removed from education. I am curious to see if Moran will address the modern day issues of the educational system and link interdisciplinary study to these problems as a possible solution.