Cultural Studies MA Student
…I find holy redemption
When I put this car in drive
Roll the windows down and turn up the dial
Can I get a hallelujah
Can I get an amen
Feels like the Holy Ghost running through ya
When I play the highway FM
I find my soul revival
Singing every single verse
Yeah I guess that’s my church
Marin Morris, My Church
I have often joked about something that I call “The 4am Miracle”. It is that moment of inspiration that strikes suddenly and unexpectedly after hours of staring at a blank entre. It is the moment that the words flow uninhibited, the ideas focus and align, and the insights are profound. In the morning, I read over the work from the moment of transcendence, and it is always my best writing. Despite the feeling that I am not the one controlling the work, that the work is simply using my body as a vessel, it is always the most elegantly written, the most thought-provoking, the most engaging part of my essay – it is as though, in that moment, the Spirit of the Academy has possessed me for the sole purpose of articulating a point worth making.
This weekend, I attended a lecture given by a neuroscientist who studies the eye/brain connection and the processes used in our perception of the world. He closed his talk saying, “…managing the miracle of human sight”, and I was struck by his use of the word “miracle”. Miriam Webster dictionary defines miracle as “an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs”. Divine. A scientist described the phenomenon he has spent his life investigating as a product of divine intervention. And so too have I described my academic moments of inspiration as a miracle, as a divine intervention. And so now I wonder… Is academia a religion?
When I wake up, press the button on my kettle, and sit down in front of my computer every morning – am I going to church? Am I entrenching myself in a unifying worldview shared by millions of others, and trusting an institution and its set of ethics and principles to watch over me and guide my life? Inarguably, the answer is yes. I came to academia a supplicant (they called me an applicant, but the connotation is the same), and upon acceptance was initiated into the academy.
For four years I was a Novice, learning from those who have completed their training and moved up the ranks of the institution. I was made to feel guilty for my sins of not studying, partying too much, and falling behind, and I was judged by the Higher Powers each time I turned in an assignment. If being accepted to university can be compared with being Christened, turning in a paper was like going to Confession. Graduation was my Confirmation – my declaration that I was a member of the institution always, that I would carry the knowledge of my degree with me throughout my life, that I would forever be branded as a “university graduate” and therefore a full member of this community.
I have returned now as an Apprentice to an Adept or a Master, and in returning and ascending the ranks, I have accordingly been given greater responsibility and greater freedom. I guide my own small class of novices now, and I have been entrusted with more of the wisdom that the hallowed halls of the Ivory Tower hold sacred. I am even permitted to add to that knowledge in my own small way, carefully guided by my superiors.
I started thinking about this idea while sitting in my Community Based Research course. The course is looking at emergent research methodologies and is critical of the harm done by academics that have not traditionally been concerned with the communities they have studied. The critiques are valid and the new methodologies are interesting, but I am quick to defend the institution. As with all religion, there are things that change and adapt with time, there are moments when our highest earthly authorities come together and agree to adaptations of earlier doctrines, but there are some things that are dogma. Sources must be cited. Knowledge must be recorded and preserved. And the institution must persevere.
The big question, of course, is one of belief. Do I believe in the Academy? I love the Academy, and I believe in its ability and its desire to do good. I believe that the members of this community seek to expand and share knowledge, and to safeguard that knowledge for future generations. We comment on, critique, analyze, and offer insight into socio-political issues. We hunt for new cures, we research new surgical procedures and new energy sources, we create space to question authority and assess the state of the world. But I also have faith in the 4am miracle. I have experienced transcendence in the carrels of libraries, and I have felt the touch of the Spirit of Knowledge guiding me to answers that I did not have before.
Is academia a religion? I don’t know. But I think it’s my religion.
Bless me professor, for I have sinned. It has been many days since I worked on my thesis…