Does a Bear Sit in the Woods?
Every so often, a short, pithy statement will rise above the toxic cloud of chatter, moving only those who can discern its esoteric essence. In this case, the title veers breathlessly close to vulgarity as if to announce, “Hey! Over here!”
Following the wonderment of seeing it in print, only a gifted few immediately comprehend the nuance of the title. They smile and nod at its profound yet simple eloquence. A few more shake their heads as if to clear away the silken web of tedium before a smile finally breaks through the clutter. The rest merely note the likelihood of an errant verb that has eluded the necessary “h” in spellcheck. Why are the anointed smiling?
They’re basking in the glow of understatement and an obtuse salute to the pun. A newly-minted proverb for our time, it, of course, must conform to factual correctness. Indeed, we may presume that a bear does sit in the woods when he or she is tired. We can also assume that a bear has no psychological need to identify as anything but biological gender. Even an unconscious misreading of the statement also passes the logic test. And yet, it speaks volumes to those who allow it to linger along with the smile that refuses to fade. In this instance, the back-to-nature allusion relates explicitly to a Bachelor of Arts degree if you happened to borrow against your future to acquire.
Now that you’ve moved on from the jello shots and various prohibited substances of your youth, you face a ruthless world that doesn’t seem to care whether or not you can afford the rent on that starter apartment. You’ve been listening to the televised oracles lament your decision on your lofty yet ill-advised baccalaureate, which still seems to only qualify you for part-time employment requiring a hairnet. The halls echo the refrain that you missed your opportunity to embrace science as your passkey to the middle class and success. How could you be so foolish as to seek knowledge that will not even earn you a living wage?
If your degree is in some obscure faux subject like Contemporary Gender History and you’re still with me, this discourse will not be therapeutic. If you earned your degree in the classics, like literature, philosophy, art, or music, notably all ancient inventions, you have ample justification for holding your head high. You are undoubtedly the only ones smiling at our bear’s functional posture. The reason is as simple as a bear sitting in the woods.
Classical education is not meant to acquire knowledge, although you probably absorbed some between the jello shots and bong parties. It is intended for you to achieve the lofty state of having attained character— a state of existence that grants you the ability to discern the beauty surrounding you, thereby elevating you in the human experience.
Rejoice that you have avoided the silver bullet of becoming a cog in one of the celebrated corporate machines. It doesn’t matter which particular well-paying future you might have some lingering regret about not pursuing. When your aunt’s third husband counseled you on becoming a lawyer, he had been watching too many episodes of Breaking Bad. Today, there’s one attorney for every three people. That means you may still have to augment your livelihood using that hairnet unless Bill Gates is one of your three. Consider yourself lucky to have avoided those 80-hour workweeks you would now be enduring to ‘pay your dues.’ You avoided all that!
If you were ruminating over passing up the chance to work for a Big-Eight, ah, Big-Six, ah, Big-Five, ah Big-Four accounting firm, you missed an identical 80-hour workweek paying your dues. Only, in this case, you’ve been the willing handmaiden of an accountant. What can be more humiliating than that?
You chose a classical education, and because of it, you are now a soldier for civilized humanity as it continues to crawl out of the jungle. You are capable of shedding a tear over the beauty of a Chopin melody, the vulnerable smile of Da Vinci’s Ms. Mona, the perfection of Michelangelo’s David, the flight of a bumblebee, perhaps even easing the pain of a fellow human being.
You still may need the hairnet to get through the day, but you’ve avoided a far worse future. Unless you genuinely see the inherent beauty in your chosen science, you face a future as an accurate and efficient sentient machine, sitting in traffic every day, hoping for a future that includes your replication into another machine that will take your place as a valuable cog.
Yes, a bear does occasionally sit in the woods! And, as a classically educated human, you have a rare ability to appreciate a nuance that is not quantifiable. That one trait places you in a select fraternity of beings that can fathom the sanctity and beauty of the universe around you. You are Renaissance 2.0, a modern version of those ancient Hellenes who stumbled upon the beauty surrounding them and formed the very foundation of Western Civilization.
