Humanities: Way Of Life Or Waste Of Time?

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What comes to mind when you hear the word Humanities, when a friend says they’re going to college to study Humanities?

Ask around and get back to me. I did it and came up with a few examples.

1-What are humanities?

2-Aren’t those the hippopotamus cousins that live in the Florida Everglades?

1-Those would be manatees, not humanities.

2-What’s the difference smart guy? You want to go, I’m ready Mr. Humanity.

I met an old guy when I was a kid. He was probably thirty and working at a fish hatchery near our campsite. A river flowed nearby.

1-What are you doing?

2-Making sure these fish have a chance to survive.

1-Did you go to school to learn how to help fish survive?

2-Yes I did. This is what my English Major got me.

Today I imagine him cleaning holding ponds with The Fish by W.B. Yeats swimming round his humanity tuned brain.

After my freshman year in college I asked another old man his opinion on humanities. He was probably forty years old, had followed sawmill jobs to the end of the line starting in the south and ending up in Coos Bay.

1- Can I ask you a question?

2- Shoot.

1- What are humanities?

2- Humanities?

1- Right, humanities.

2- It’s what college boys like you study when they aren’t smart enough to do a hard science.

1- So humanities are a soft science?

2- Looks like it adds up.

He was a veteran of The Big One, served in ‘HarWhyYa’ after Pearl Harbor. I was a college kid doing a summer job in a  Georgia Pacific veneer mill. Here’s a little Dylan Thomas for the old geezer.

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.

The force that drives the water through the rocks
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
Turns mine to wax.
And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.

The hand that whirls the water in the pool
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
Hauls my shroud sail.
And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
How of my clay is made the hangman’s lime.

The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather’s wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.

And I am dumb to tell the lover’s tomb
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.

The science of Dylan Thomas is the same for all. One plus one is two, but read him again saying the words in your mind and you join the millions he adds to his reading list.

And that’s the magic of The Humanities. They invite you to the party. Study up and you’ll know the dress code, the code of behavior. No matter your own zip code you are guaranteed admission once you start reading.

Now I hear you say, “But Dave, what’s the point? Why would anyone give a damn about the humanities, The Humanities, however you say it?”

Think of the word ‘Embrace.’ When you embrace something it’s a good thing. You choose to embrace a city, a person, a pet. You’re Mary Tyler Moore in a Minneapolis embrace.

When you embrace the humanities you embrace a bigger life, a better understanding of how you got where you are, how everyone got to this point.

It gives empathy for our fellow man and enthusiasm for their journey.

And it gives you a chance to leave a legacy. Even if it never shows, voting for candidates who represent the humanities, who want to leave their own legacy of supporting bills in congress that keep the door open for others, is a vote to cast.

It takes a good effort to do the right thing, but it still could turn out wrong.

The humanities forgive you.