Why Shakespeare Matters: Steve Alschuler in the Post-Gazette
By Steve Alschuler, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
When I was in college, still struggling to find a direction in life, a frustrated professor gave the best answer I have ever heard to the question asked by students for generations: “Why do I have to study Shakespeare?”
“Shakespeare won’t get you a job,” she said, “but when you’re working in McDonald’s, flipping burgers and covered in grease, at least you’ll have something interesting to think about.”
Knowledge for the sake of knowledge. Wow. What a concept.
Tony Norman’s recent column about a teacher who’d been suspended for teaching Mark Twain and another who didn’t teach Shakespeare because she had difficulty with the language (“Inspiring Teacher Draws Baffling Critics,” June 19) struck a chord. It was the latest disturbing report of classics being cast aside or, worse, banned.
Banning Shakespeare is nothing new, of course. “The Merchant of Venice” has been criticized as anti-Semitic. “Romeo and Juliet” has been viewed as encouraging children to disobey their parents and as glamorizing suicide. “Twelfth Night” was banned by a school district because one of its characters is a woman who dresses as a boy.
But these narrow objections have recently given way to what appears to be a larger trend. According to the American Council of Trustees and Alumni, at 52 leading colleges and universities it studied, English majors are no longer required to take even a single course in Shakespeare. “At most universities, English majors were once required to study Shakespeare closely as an indispensable foundation for the understanding of English language and literature,” the report said. “But today — at the elite universities we examined, public and private, large and small, east and west — he is required no more.”
Granted, Shakespeare — or other great literature — may not be for everyone. The same could be said about algebra, chemistry and green vegetables, all of which many young people wish they could avoid. But, as adults, we should recognize the value in exposing children to concepts, experiences and fields of study that are challenging, that make them a little uncomfortable, but that are part of the great pool of knowledge that civilization has shared for centuries.
Some children may hate math for years, only to be inspired by a great teacher to see the poetry in a mathematical equation. Others who at first find Shakespeare incomprehensible may later be captivated by the beauty of the language and fascinated by its nuance and intricacy.
But experiences like these will never happen if teachers shy away from subjects that are hard to teach and students gravitate only toward those things they find easy. That happens too much in life — we read editorials and watch commentators we agree with, we find support on the Internet for whatever path of thought we wish to follow — assuming we aren’t spending hours watching funny cat videos. Just don’t make us think too much. Don’t provoke us with ideas we’re uncomfortable with.
The prevailing wisdom seems to be that if something offends us, or even causes unpleasant thoughts, we shouldn’t have to be exposed to it. Students and parents feel free to protest course materials and schools apparently are expected to succumb. And universities seem to be following their students’ lead, rather than leading their students, and focusing more on quality of life than on the rigor of required courses.
Perhaps that’s why nine of 10 employers told the American Association of Colleges and Universities that recent college graduates are poorly prepared for the workforce in such areas as critical thinking, communication and problem solving. Perhaps that’s why the Council for Aid to Education recently found that 40 percent of graduates lacked skills such as the ability to construct a cohesive argument or identify a logical fallacy.
How are young people expected to learn to navigate real life, with situations that are messy, problems that are truly hard and people who are unreasonable or even offensive? In the real world, we all need to deal with abusive supervisors, unrealistic deadlines and impossible demands. We all need to deal with crises and loss and times when, no matter how hard we try and how unfair it might be, we simply can’t get what we want.
Great literature helps us do that. Great art helps us do that. Shakespeare helps us do that.
There’s a reason they call them “classics,” after all. They are the threads that bind us together as human beings, teach us the values to which we aspire and dare us to dream great dreams.
As my old college professor pointed out, studying Shakespeare isn’t important because it will help anyone get a job; it’s important because it teaches us how to think. It teaches us about power and leadership, about career strategy and class conflict, about treachery and human nature, about war and about love. It teaches us how to face life.
Our society needs more great thinkers, more great artists and more study of the greats who have come before. Our educational institutions at every level should stand firm in the conviction that every child should have at least the chance to grasp onto that well-worn, but ageless thread of shared wisdom and beauty.
