Unapologetically You

You know when you’re singing along to the radio and the words flow from your lips without a single thought? Perhaps you stop to think for a moment, then realize you just shouted an entire line of curse words with your mom sitting beside you. The same seems to go for the Mass as well: an entire group of people, standing in unison reciting the prayers, sitting, responding, maybe whispering along with the opening hymn - but are you really thinking about what you’re doing, or are you going through the motions? We repeatedly praise, worship, and direct our hearts towards our Heavenly Father; we literally speak the words “Our Father,” so why are we denying Him? As Christians, we must never be ashamed of Christ; we must never refuse the gift of faith given to us through Christ’s eternal single sacrifice.

What does that even mean? Now is when most get defensive, explaining how they go to Sunday Mass every single week (maybe except when the Super Bowl is on because… it’s the Super Bowl!) [Note: eyeroll]. They explain how they went to Catholic school for their entire lives; how they were baptized minutes after being born as if their 4-hour-old selves quoted the word of Peter: "Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit" (Acts 2:38). That’s not to be minimized, for it’s true that the blessing of the faith lies within us all. As such, this article isn’t to say that you aren’t doing enough, although that is probably true. Rather, this is to raise the question of denying Christ.

Think about your father. Would you ever deny that he is your father? No matter what your circumstance may be, each one of us has a dad. Even if you don’t know him, or if he is your very best friend in the world, human beings feel a distinct connection to their biological parents. These two people, by the grace of God, created you in His image. Even if he fails to take into account your delicate sensibilities (yes, speaking from experience here...), one does not deny his or her father. Even if you don’t like him, chances are that you somehow love him. Surely, there is a difference between those two verbs.

Now, think of the last time you were standing in Mass, or most any Christian service for that matter. Perhaps without even thinking, the words begin to flow from your mouth: “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…” It does not take a Bible scholar to note that we are not talking about our biological father in this instance; rather, we are talking about our Heavenly Father, the one who commonly goes by the name of God, or Dieu if you’re French, Dios if you’re Spanish, and so on. It’s like that time that you were singing in the car with your mom, not considering what the words meant but saying them nonetheless. Crazy, truly.

As someone that did not grow up in this world where we discuss the change of saying “and with your spirit” instead of  “and also with you,” I noticed everything right down to its most basic level. In other words: I questioned everything like I was a two-year-old child asking “why” about quite literally every part of the Mass. Why did that person just do a little bow there in front of that table? (Note: I soon find that we call this the altar.) Why did that one person go down on one knee before sliding into his seat? (Note: this one was hard to grasp at first because genuflection feels like a dying ritual, but one that should most certainly be preserved). Why did that girl hug me at the Sign of Peace, and how many people do I have to awkwardly look at and mouth “peace be with you” until the priest continues? Everyone was speaking English around me, but they might as well have spoken a made-up language, for I was lost.

Since I’ve come from the secular world, my first time attending a Catholic Mass freaked me out. I felt as if I entered into an entirely different world, and despite the fact that the Mass was opened with the words “all are welcome here,” I most certainly felt out of place. Why are people singing now? What was that word that everyone just said in unison? Why does that person kneel while that one doesn’t? All these questions (and, trust me, many more) raced through my mind - and not just at my first Mass, but sometimes to this day. I had this feeling that everyone around me knew was was going on… except me. I felt a vague sense of unease whenever I would go to Sunday Mass because of that feeling, but I still needed to identify why, after eighteen years of existence, I decided that now was the time to explore Catholicism. Arguably, I had gotten along just fine before (or so I thought), but in seemingly minutes’ time, I felt like I could not live; I could not breathe one more day without giving myself to this Church. Because of all this, I found myself sitting in the office of Fr. Hayes to discuss the conversion process.

Per my typical “all or nothing” attitude, I quickly found myself attending daily Mass, running (yes, physically running) from meetings to Theology by the Slice so I could listen to talks on the Old Testament or Saints and Superheroes, and having breakfast with friends to talk about the faith. I went and bought my own Bible, which turned out to be an amusing and interesting experience as I tried to find out which translation was “best”... and which color I wanted. With such a dramatic change in who I was and who it seemed like I was becoming, friends and others around me began to take notice and give their “advice” on my new lifestyle. I was taking it too far, they said. “Perhaps she’s going to become a nun?” others remarked. Those who don’t know what Holy Cross is were convinced I had been sent to Bible school. Rival voices crept in from all directions, poking at me and making me question if the decision I was being called to make through the grace of the Holy Spirit was the right one for me. These voices came from some of the people I love most, making my “choice” that much harder… but that’s the thing: this isn’t a “choice,” because if it were, I could have easily decided to step away from the Church and return to my previous life. That life, however, was far gone.

““Faith is not a one-size-fits-all, and it is therefore going to look different for each and every one of us.”
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Not wanting to be perceived as weird or anything too far out of our idea of normal, I cut back. I sometimes skipped Mass altogether, ultimately suffering and only hurting myself through that choice. I would take my cross necklace off around certain friends for fear of judgement. I would make excuses as to where I was going at 9 P.M. on Tuesday night, because who goes to Mass on a Tuesday? The answer: a lot of amazing people. Sometimes I feared that the aforementioned breakfast conversations about age-old debates of the Catholic Church would get so loud that nearby tables could hear. Without even knowing, and certainly without desire, I began to deny Christ. It was not until I listened to a podcast by Fr. Mike Schmitz that I realized what I was doing. [Note: if you haven’t listened to Fr. Mike, get ready for some life changing material.] Simply put, Fr. Mike outlines, “to deny Jesus will always be the wrong thing to do.” As much and perhaps more, we must care for our souls to the same extent we care for our bodies. This entails nurturing your relationship with Jesus and never being afraid (or ashamed) to accept him as your Lord. It entails not only acknowledging, but responding to the voice - the Holy Spirit - that is guiding you from within.

Faith is not a one-size-fits-all, and it is therefore going to look different for each and every one of us. With that said, it is time for us to show no fear or shame in our worship of God, which will mean different things for different people. Do you feel the call to kneel at Mass at the preparation of the Eucharist even though no one else is? Kneel. Do you love celebrating the Mass by singing? Let’s even get you a microphone! Is your ideal Wednesday night characterized by some pizza and theological discussions on the faith? Go eat pizza and open up your mind. The point is this: there will always be someone who doesn’t approve of you. Unfortunately for us, there is no such thing as a “good Catholic,” for at the end of the day, sin is to the human being as sacrifice is to the Mass, as Jesus is to the highest form of love.

If I had to describe the purest form of liberation, it would be the idea of being unapologetically you, which includes a fearless, shameless, loving worship and acceptance of Jesus. We would never want to deny our fathers here on earth, so why is it okay to deny our Father in Heaven? If it is of the unpopular opinion, so be it. If it is “weird” to unapologetically accept the utter gift of faith that has been given to us, let us be weird. Let us liberate ourselves from the shackles of fear and disappointment and step into a new life of love. All we can give to the Lord is our complete will. Offer it up. Accept your faith. Embrace the gift of acceptance, liberation, and life. Witness of the Mass is not enough; rather, we are called to participate in Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross. The urge to deny Jesus will always come, but Fr. Mike gives us the only answer we may ever need: “[rival voices] can rob us of peace, joy, and Christ’s place in our heart. But to take courage, get up, Jesus is calling you.”

““As Christians, we must never be ashamed of Christ...”
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The Problem With Asking More

Despite its blatant contradictions to Holy Cross’s mission statement, to Jesuit values, and to the objectives of Catholic education, the College’s “Ask More” tagline is decidedly appropriate for the current state of the school.  Rooted in fallacies and dangerous inconsistencies, the now five-year-old motto is not only a direct source of the College’s intellectual and cultural decline, but it has also fundamentally distorted the College’s mission as an educational institution – whether those behind the motto acknowledge so or not.  Because of the “Ask More” motto and its inevitable philosophical consequences, Holy Cross has devolved, on an institutional level, from a campus of higher learning to a campus void of answers, a campus void of lasting knowledge, and a campus void of truth.

In February 2014, Fenwick Review co-founder Fr. Paul Scalia said in an interview that his experience as a Holy Cross student could best be summarized as “the constant questioning, but never the articulation of an answer.”  Scalia continued: “Once we say the purpose of a college is to ask questions, […] that’s a huge problem.” As Scalia rightly noted, the act of questioning innately presupposes an answer; interpersonal dialogue in and of itself – both formal and informal – is contingent upon the existence of truth and an underlying desire to reach it.  But that’s not how many Holy Cross professors and administrators are inclined to approach their lectures and class discussions. Holy Cross’s version of ‘asking’ is not based upon seeking the truth or reaching a final conclusion, but on needless exposure and experimentation for their own sake.

The College’s “Campus Life” webpage suggests that “deep exploration” and the “uncover[ing of] new perspectives” are valued above all else.  The Montserrat program’s webpage indicates the program “encourages engagement” and “fuels an enduring quest” for “growth.” The Office of Diversity and Inclusion purports “the best way to understand the world around us is to embrace the full spectrum of perspectives and life experiences.”  And the list goes on. Several courses and seminars I have taken during my time at Holy Cross introduced students to a wide assortment of “perspectives” and “experiences,” but never once sought to analyze or dissect them, to dig deeper, or to – dare I say – answer any of the questions professors so tirelessly pose.  A multitude of perspectives can be noble and worthwhile, but only when presented in a way that compares and contrasts them – in a way that acknowledges their flaws and their fine points and isn’t afraid to elevate one over the other, or cast one aside because it might fall short. When teaching their classes, it seems many Holy Cross professors are consumed with following endless roadmaps with infinite numbers of twists and turns, divergent paths, and no destination anywhere in sight. Just as roadmaps might be deemed useless if they fail to direct one to a final destination, the act of ‘asking more’ is fruitless and meaningless when answers are abandoned and truth is left unacknowledged.  Asking without any intention of answering can only lead one down an eternal rabbit hole of uncertainty, indecision, and emptiness.

Unfortunately, the College’s apathy towards truth is not limited to the classroom.  The administration and student offices have taken up similar methods: the bleak intellectual consequences of ‘asking more’ have bled over to other components of the school and have further exposed the fallacious nature of one of the College’s most highly touted marketing slogans.  The Foundation for Individual Rights in Education labeled three of Holy Cross’s policies and codes of conduct as “red light policies,” indicating they are guidelines that “clearly and substantially restrict freedom of speech.” In its Use of Information Technology Services policy, for instance, Holy Cross leadership states that “the determination of what is obscene, offensive or intolerant is within the sole discretion of the College.”  Its Code of Student Conduct for Emotional Abuse denotes that “emotional injury” – for which the College offers no reliable definition – is considered a violation of community standards. Four additional rules and guidelines are categorized as “yellow light policies,” which the Foundation describes as having the capability to “easily be used to restrict protected expression.”

For a college that prides itself on “asking more,” encouraging “engagement,” and promoting an “enduring quest” for “growth,” aren’t free speech restrictions of any sort antithetical to the school’s mission and branding campaign?  If the “power of a question and the door it opens” is truly the “fundamental idea” behind the Holy Cross experience, as the school itself asserts, why should the College have the right to silence students based on what it subjectively perceives as “emotional injury” or “intolerant”?  If all ideas and perspectives must be acknowledged and discussed on equal playing fields, what gives the supposed champions of ‘asking more’ a right to shut them down? Here lies the problem with the morally relativistic and multicultural lenses through which the College is entrapped: if truth does not exist or is not worth pursuing, why should Holy Cross administrators have the right to tell one that his “perspective” is wrong or intolerant?  If all “perspectives” are equally valid and worth exploring, then why aren’t some? Perhaps most importantly, how does censorship of “emotional injury” complement one’s “enduring quest” for “growth”? The College that insists exposure to a multitude of perspectives is the basis for intellectual and personal growth should not be the College that flaunts its “sole discretion” to determine what might not be an acceptable perspective.  One cannot logically direct a body of students to “ask more,” but only up until someone’s feelings are hurt.

The “Ask More” tagline aptly characterizes the general academic and cultural atmosphere on the Holy Cross campus as palpably self-contradictory.  Of course, not every professor or every class abides by this faulty approach: intellectual honesty and appreciation for truth have not yet been not entirely terminated from campus, but they seem to be lessening every new semester.  Catholic Jesuit education is built upon pursuit of the truth. Holy Cross’s own mission statement, ironically enough, calls for “a passion for truth.” When will we start living up to it?

Truth is not always easy.  The quest for truth can be distressing, onerous, and at times downright infuriating.  But that doesn’t mean it’s worth forsaking. The act of ‘asking more’ is noble, but asking must lead somewhere or to something.  A restoration of meaning, purpose, and value would lead to immeasurable improvement and would do infinite good for Holy Cross’s campus.  As St. Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits, wrote, “It is not much knowledge that fills and satisfies the soul, but the intimate understanding and relish of the truth.”  In order for Holy Cross to live up to its strong potential as a Catholic liberal arts institution, it must shift from the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake to the pursuit of knowledge for the attainment of what is true and what is good.  Like truth itself, Holy Cross is worth protecting. It is in seeking the answer, not the question, that we can open our minds, revitalize our intellect, and reach our potential as a campus of higher learning.

On the Relation of Feelings, "Demands," and Reason in Liberal Education

This past November 11, in reply to the student/faculty letter demanding that the College cancel classes for as long as a week in response to an alleged "hate crime" (as well as to other alleged but unspecified incidents of bias-motivated "hate and violence")—a demand to which the College administration acceded in part by canceling all classes and extracurricular activities for an afternoon so that students and faculty could attend a mandatory "Summit" to address the issues raised in the letter—I arranged for the following notice (slightly edited here) to be posted on my office door. (Since I am currently on sabbatical, I wouldn't have been in my office on that date, nor even, I suppose, expected to participate in the Summit, but I thought it essential to make a statement regarding the significance of the shutdown,)

I have not signed the letter asking the College to suspend classes on account of a reported hate crime. This is because I believe the primary purpose of a liberal arts college is to engage in the pursuit of learning, through classes and the study of readings that are of lasting importance. So far as I know, Holy Cross maintained a regular class schedule even during the Second World War, when many of our students and recent alumni were abroad fighting for our country. We cannot afford to set a precedent of calling off classes whenever faculty and/or students are upset about some particular incident, however ugly it may have been. (I say "may have been" because the circumstances of this incident have not been made clear to the faculty, the student body, or the public at large.)

The foregoing statement elicited a remarkable response from a student I have never met, which she emailed to a dozen or so College administrators from the president on down, as well as to the chair of my department:

As I was passing through the hallway in Fenwick, I saw a very concerning letter from Prof. Schaefer posted outside of his office door. I felt like this letter is very inconsiderate and insensitive as it minimizes past and recent events that have been impacting many students, faculty and staff on our campus. It makes me feel extremely uncomfortable, especially coming from a professor, because I feel like this is disrespectful to those who have been affected by these events. I noticed on the ENGAGE Summit schedule, the Political Science department is hosting an Open House, and as a faculty member that represents that department, what he mentions in his letter contradicts the message the department is trying to put forth for tomorrow in their session.

Last year, I was the student that found and reported a swastika that was in one of my classrooms. It is extremely upsetting and disheartening to be in this position, as a student, to have to make reports like this–  but especially when they are coming from our own professors. Thank you.by [sic].

According to a report subsequently issued by the Office of Public Safety, it appears that no proof has been found of the alleged incident that provoked the mass letter calling for a suspension of classes. But whether or not the incident occurred is beside my present point. What centrally concerns me—as it did when I posted the "offending" message on my door—is the misunderstanding of the function of a liberal arts college, or the very meaning of liberal education, that is embodied in the original petition that led to the Summit; in the resultant cancellation of academic and extracurricular activities; and in the student letter I have quoted.

To anyone old enough to have been in graduate school during the late 1960s, as I was, the cancellation of classes has an ominous ring. That was the era in which students forcibly shut down college campuses, sometimes occupying academic buildings, even with weapons, for the sake of demonstrating their opposition to the Vietnam War, for racial "causes," or for other political agendas. (This occurred, most famously, at Harvard, Columbia, and [sadly for me] my own undergraduate alma mater, Cornell—where a supine University president was photographed squatting on a podium floor, soda can in hand, while a student "activist" railed at him before a large audience—this in preparation for the University's surrender to demands that punishments for rioting students, including those who had occupied the student union with guns, be canceled.) To those who possess some historical memory, the surrenders also recalled the sacrifice of the pursuit of learning to a radical political agenda that destroyed German universities in the 1930s.

By contrast, I am proud to say, my graduate alma mater, the University of Chicago, refused to suspend classes, or allow those who occupied the administration building to go unpunished. This isn't because many or most faculty didn't agree with the political beliefs of the protestors—regarding the war, race relations, etc.—but because at Chicago, then and now, the pursuit of learning is sacrosanct.

In this light, what is striking about the student's response to my notice is the expectation it exhibits that all professors (as well as students and administrators, presumably) should suspend their joint pursuit of learning, just in order to accommodate her (and other students') feelings of distress. If a professor's daring to dissent from the demand that classes be canceled makes her "feel extremely uncomfortable," I fear that Holy Cross has poorly prepared her to face the much more strenuous tribulations that adult life is likely to hold. To say that she "feels like" my dissent "is disrespectful" exhibits a significant misconception of what "respect" means, or to whom it is properly owed. Since when is it the job of professors to accommodate their students' "feelings," justified or not? How does she react if she is assigned a book in class that she disagrees with? (Does she require a "trigger warning," if not the removal of the offending text?)

The proper function of liberal education, as understood from as far back as Plato and Aristotle through such nineteenth-century champions as Matthew Arnold and John Henry Newman (and in the twentieth century, University of Chicago president Robert Maynard Hutchins), isn't to accommodate learners' feelings, but to challenge their received opinions or prejudices on the basis of rational arguments and free debate. Apparently, none of the letter writer's teachers thus far have got this message through to her—perhaps because they themselves, like the Baby Boomer protestors of the 1960s (or their predecessors, German youth of the 1930s) don't really believe in the superiority of rational thought to political advocacy based on mere emotion. If this is so, then they have been failing in their vocation.

(As an aside, I must observe with great regret the egregious recent discoveries of individual faculty sexual misconduct towards students, two of which have recently been acknowledged by the College administration. In that regard the third of the complaints submitted by "@sexualassaultonthehill" subsequent to the Summit urgently merits firm administrative action—although not another suspension of classes that would only divert attention from the real problem. Nonetheless, the fact that the complaints are listed as "demands" exemplifies a distorted understanding of the proper relation of students to College faculty and administrators as a whole—eerily reminiscent of the assaults on Chinese professors and teachers in the 1960s under the auspices of the government-sponsored, terrorist "Cultural Revolution." Additionally, the sixth "demand"—that the College "protect" self-identified student "survivors" from Secretary of Education Betsy Devos's proposal that accused perpetrators of sexual abuse "be able to hire a separate investigator to cross-examine" their accusers—bespeaks an ominous disregard for the Anglo-American tradition of due process of law, recalling the Salem witch trials. Will administrators and faculty have the backbone to stand up against such lawlessness?)

I close this essay by mentioning that as a Jew, I would have had far more reason than the letter writer to be offended or even upset at the discovery of a swastika on campus. However, it would never have occurred to me to respond by demanding that classes be suspended in consequence. To do so would play into the hands of those who seek to suppress rational debate, as well as respect for legitimate differences of opinion. (On the other hand, judging from my long acquaintance with Holy Cross students, I would guess that the swastika was far more likely a stupid prank provoked by the College's ever-increasing barrage of "multicultural" indoctrination than a reflection of Nazi sentiment.)

I earnestly hope that the suspension of classes is not an event to be repeated. And I urge the letter-writer to take some challenging classes in which classic, difficult texts— philosophic, literary, historical—are read closely with a view to understanding what their authors have to teach us, rather than judging them by the standard of our own pre-existing "feelings." What else is liberal education—the education that is supposed to equip a human being for genuine freedom, with reason governing rather than serving the passions, and with respect for the rule of law—for?

Dancing With Your Eyes Closed

In my first year as a resident assistant here at the College of the Holy Cross, I was given the opportunity to participate in an event called “Pie Your RA.” “Pie Your RA” was relatively self-explanatory: at a specified time in front of the Hogan Campus Center, residents could purchase, for a dollar, a whipped-cream “pie” and promptly deposit it onto their garbage-bag-clad RA’s face. I, ever being a jokester, was all-for the event. The donated monies would go to benefit the Holy Cross Dance Marathon, wherein students dance the night away (literally, mind you – they dance all night) to raise money for the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric Aids Society. What could go wrong?

To make a long story short: once I knew what I’d be getting into, I didn’t let one drop of whipped cream touch my face.

The Dance Marathon has been waltzing around the College since 2012. A Holy Cross alumna co-founded the event during her senior year, according to her blog “A Job Well Dunn,” for the sake of “bringing students and the community together to raise money and awareness for the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation.” During the initial year, the Marathon raised almost $24,000 for the Foundation; in the next year, the number increased by roughly $4,500. It seems that the donations peaked in 2014, where an enterprising group of students raised over $40,000, although the amount has dwindled to back around $27,000 as of last year. (The Campus Activities Board hosted the event again on January 25th, but I haven’t found the total amount donated this year.)

I suppose that these numbers indicate how easy it is to say to a group of students: “hey everyone! Let’s all dance together, have a fun time, and save the lives of some children suffering from HIV/AIDS! Everyone wins!” and have an overwhelmingly positive response. It makes sense, to be sure; who wouldn’t want to protect the lives of children? Who wouldn’t want to purge HIV and AIDS from the world? Noble, to be sure.

But the “everyone wins” is false. The children don’t all win, nor do their mothers, nor do we. The Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric Aids Foundation, despite what it seems, is unadulteratedly pro-choice; furthermore, it disagrees fundamentally with Catholic sexual ethics.  Frankly, I don’t know if Holy Cross itself knows that, and I’m sure that most of the students who attend the Dance Marathon don’t know either.

The Lepanto Institute for the Restoration of All Things in Christ, a “research and education organization dedicated to the defense of the Catholic Church against assaults from without as well as from within,” marks the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric Aids Foundation (EGPAF) as “Not Safe” on the grounds that it facilitates abortion and contraception. On a page dedicated to explaining this grade (see https://www.lepantoinstitute.org/elizabeth-glaser-pediatric aids-foundation/), they explain why. EGPAF, in 2013, published a progress report on its “Cote d’Ivoire” project in Kenya. “Page five of this report,” claims Lepanto, “clearly indicates that its distribution of 400,000 condoms was one of its accomplishments for just one year.” Indeed, on page five of the PDF document linked to the Lepanto webpage, the statement “Over the year, EGPAF distributed over 400,000 condoms” appears. Please note that section 2370 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church explains that “every action which... proposes, whether as an end or as a means, to render procreation impossible is intrinsically evil.” This prohibition includes condoms, which render procreation impossible.

Perhaps far worse is that EGPAF also supports abortion. According to the Lepanto Institute, EGPAF celebrated the repeal of the Mexico City Policy in 2009. The policy requires that nongovernmental organizations must, in order to receive federal funding, not involve themselves in family planning via abortion in other nations. The Mexico City Policy has vacillated, being repealed and reinstated, over various presidencies and was repealed under President Obama, although Trump has recently reinstated it again. The EGPAF’s support of Obama’s repeal can be affirmed by a statement from Pamela W. Barnes, the President and Chief Executive Officer of EGPAF in 2009. She commented that “the prevention of unintended pregnancies is one of the four cornerstones of the United Nations’ and World Health Organization’s strategy for preventing mother to child transmission (PMTCT) of HIV.” Barnes also noted that “the ‘Mexico City Policy’ denied funding for these basic family planning services.” In a 2014 report (after the Dance Marathon had already begun donating to the Foundation), the EGPAF noted that it provided “key results in prevention of undesired pregnancies: EGPAF-supported programs provided family planning counseling and methods to 11,678 HIV-positive individuals in 2014.” As noted by Barnes, that counseling includes abortion.

Although most people are well aware of the Church’s stance on abortion, I’ll include some of Pope St. Paul VI’s words on the subject; he is, after all, a saint. And a pope. And a magisterial authority. In section 14 of his encyclical Humanae Vitae, he comments that “above all, all direct abortion, even for therapeutic reasons, (is) to be absolutely excluded as lawful means of regulating the number of children.” I suppose that’s firm enough for me to say and be done with the subject. EGPAF is, consistently and objectively, in opposition with the teachings of the Catholic Church and anyone who holds pro-life ideals. Ironic that an organization so concerned with healthy children has no qualms with killing those unborn.

What’s more ironic? Last year, despite how a quick Google search determines that EGPAF isn’t a Catholic-friendly charity, a Mass collection was held for the group around this time. I’d been sitting in a pew with a close friend, fishing for my wallet as the collection basket floated down our way, whispering to him “shouldn’t you be donating to help stop pediatric AIDS?” His retort: “for the good of your soul, you’d better not donate to them.” I stuffed my wallet back into my pocket and passed the basket along, all the while mildly confused with his sentiment (until I learned the truth about the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric Aids Foundation, of course).

Now, what of those other Catholics and pro-life students among us who danced the night away with the Dance Marathon this year? Holy Cross has done them a disservice by making the Marathon into a celebratory festival where the goal is promoting life, albeit quietly at the expense of other lives waiting to be born. Over the course of seven years, the truth about EGPAF has, as far as I’m aware, never come to light. I’d almost be amused if it weren’t so terrible.

Be Careful What You Fight For

Imagine opening up the Podcast app on your iPhone while preparing for your morning commute, expecting to find your regularly scheduled Ben Shapiro Show or Barstool News program. Instead, you find a show with cover art boasting two scantily clad twenty-something women. Curiosity getting the better of your judgment, you tap the phone to investigate what possible topic such a provocative image could be advertising, only to be greeted with the auto-tuned voice of two women asking “Do you call him daddy? Do I call her daddy? Call her Daddy,” in as seductive a way as possible.

Disconcerted, but with your intellectual curiosity piqued, you keep listening.  To your horror, it soon becomes clear that the show is a weekly synopsis of its two female hosts’ lives of blackout drinking, smoking copious amounts of weed, and dozens of drunken hookups. Now, keep in mind: last semester, “Call Her Daddy” was the second most popular podcast on Apple Podcasts in the U.S. Adults everywhere seem to crave each week’s episodes on increasingly riskier topics, each with evermore explicit personal detail provided by the hosts. With titles like “SEXT ME SO I KNOW IT’S REAL,” “Sliding into the DMs – It’s Time to Get Laid Boys,” and “If you’re a 5 or 6, Die for that Dick,” the hosts leave no topic off limits. This is not simply a Cosmopolitan write-in Q & A session. No, these topics come from the women’s personal lives and their first-hand encounters on the streets of New York City.

When I first listened to the podcast, I was very much taken aback (as were the men in the recording studio, as noted by the hosts in their first episode). Aspects of our culture like this one speak to the dangers of the changes our society has undergone over the last fifty years. In light of recent events on the Hill last semester, I find such a podcast even more troubling.  Imagine if two football players from one of the big-ten schools started a podcast where they talked about all the sexual conquests, substance abuse, and wild behavior they partook in over the previous week. There would be such an outcry of public protest that the noise would be deafening. Herein lies the fundamental issue with our society: a false sense of equality. Surely we can all agree that the behavior of the stereotypical jock who sleeps with countless partners on a weekly, or even nightly, basis is one we need to banish from our culture.  As a society and campus community, we should despise such behavior and work to end the veneration of “studs” or “Brads and Chads.” One just needs to read the ever-growing number of stories shared on the “Sexual Assault on the Hill” Instagram to realize the profound effect this athlete hookup culture has on the women who bravely share their experiences and understand its insidious threat to our campus community.

There seems to be a double standard for men and women in the post-sexual liberation era. While we condemn men who constantly hook up and brag to their friends, we encourage women to be sexually active and oversexualize every aspect of their being. Media platforms such as “Call Her Daddy” are proof enough. Those two women reveal their sexual conquests in extremely detailed accounts as they participate in a standing competition of who can sleep with more men each week. It all happens on the everlasting medium of the Internet, over and over, for the entertainment of the masses. Yet in this #MeToo Era, if the genders were reversed, the actions of the hosts would be seen as appalling - if not criminal.

The problem at its root is the definition our society uses for equality. We use people’s past actions to judge our standard of equality today instead of striving for a better, equitable world. Men have, historically, been able to act promiscuously and treat women in whatever way they please. So women, starting in the 1960s, wanted the same freedom and liberation to act just as men did - to, in their mind, act “equally.” Yet this is not true equality, for equality is inherently good and of a lofty nature aimed at bettering the world. If women felt they were unequally treated and wanted a better, fairer, more equal society, then how could repeating the actions they themselves termed unseemly give anyone a sense of equality? Look to post-Civil War America for an example. Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. Du Bois did not argue that blacks would achieve equality by being given the legal right to own whites. Such an idea would be ludicrous! Instead, they encouraged people to strive to sculpt a better, more just, more moral, more equal society. By leaving the evil in the past and encouraging all people, oppressor and oppressed, to use methods that help cultivate a sense of humanity, equality, and shared relationships, they sought to craft a truly equal society. Years later, we have ignored that formula by encouraging people to instead use each other as mere sexual instruments.

The modern culture we have created regarding sexuality is not equal, nor is it fair, nor does it advance a better community now or for future generations. If we want to create a truly just, fair, and equal world, one free from sexual abuses and the degradation and belittlement of the human person, we must work to check inappropriate sexual behavior for everyone. For oppression is regression, and the consequences of the sexual liberation movement have oppressed the growth of the human person and his dignity in society. We have been enslaved by our vices instead of liberated.  We need to create a society more focused on caring for and uplifting the dignity of the human person in all aspects of daily life. Then, and only then, will we enjoy true equality.

Be Careful What You Sign For

On November 16th, 2018, the College of the Holy Cross held a rather spontaneous discussion called the “ENGAGE Summit.” The Summit was, essentially, a horribly unfocused amalgam of “talks” and various other events – some extremely well-attended, some not – which circled campus issues like sexual assault, racism, the experiences of foreign exchange students, and treatment of the LGBTQ+ community on this campus. While the 40-or-so events were, for the most part, facilitated by well-intentioned faculty members and students, none of the student body here at the College has been completely satisfied. The Summit’s preparation, content, and follow-up have been lackluster or incomplete.

Many expect that the Summit was a quickly-contrived coverup to preserve the College’s reputation after the explosion of followers on the “Sexual Assault On The Hill” Instagram account. The account, which first posted on November 5th, cites its purpose in a brief biography: “*TRIGGER WARNING* Our community doesn’t think sexual assault is real. Make your voice and/or story heard ANONYMOUSLY below. This is your platform.” Beneath the biography is a clickable link to a Google Form, on which survivors of sexual assault can voice their experiences or ideas about Holy Cross’ treatment of assault. The moderators of the Instagram, at their discretion, post these stories on the profile. As is mentioned in the account’s biography, the stories are anonymous; no names or emails of submitters are recorded, and the account cannot respond to any submitted requests without contact information also being provided. At the current moment (November 28th) “Sexual Assault On The Hill” has over 3,600 followers and 97 posts. Yet despite its popularity, “Sexual Assault On The Hill” has made questionable decisions with its recent petition.

Here I must digress. To whomever has just read my thesis: if you are a student (and, therefore, likely to support the Instagram account), please refrain from thinking that I intend to use this piece to denigrate the intentions of “Sexual Assault On The Hill.” I agree that sexual assault is reprehensible, violates a person’s dignity and rights, and should be entirely purged from this campus. For that reason, I appreciate the Instagram’s endeavor. It has been markedly successful in promoting discussion. I am also inclined to believe the stories of assault, which are typically posted in vivid detail. However, due to the account’s lack of transparency in its recent list of demands, I hesitate to provide my full support.

For the most part, the account’s decisions, even in the face of administrative action, have been prudent. On November 9th, “Sexual Assault On The Hill” published a letter which began with: “After receiving a cease and desist letter from a college-affiliated sports team and obtaining our own legal advice, we have come to the conclusion that, to maintain the integrity of this space, we will no longer name specific teams on this account.” A rash of frustrated students blistered the surface of the ENGAGE Summit a week later. Many complained that the men’s athletic teams promote rape culture, so they should have come to the Summit on mandated attendance. (Whether these teams, or members thereof, were or were not present at the Summit’s sessions is unknown. The football team, however, was at a game at Georgetown.)

The cease-and-desist sent down from College higherups, at first glance, seems like a classic case of student censorship. Young women and men, who could finally muster up the courage to give testimony to their assault, even be it anonymously, would be silenced. The end of “Sexual Assault On The Hill” would mean the end of a greater community discussion about sexual assault – that is, unless the letter’s content were made public, in which case the student body’s dissent against the administrator who sent it might be even greater. Since the content of the cease-and-desist has not been released, however, a judgement as to its justifiability or lack thereof cannot be made. (The Review contacted the Instagram to request information about the cease-and-desist letter over a week prior to the date of this article, but received no response). The letter could feasibly have been a polite request to protect individual student reputations. If a student with a vendetta against an athlete on the football team, for example, decided to post a false assault story to the account, the football team’s members could be viewed with unfair scrutiny. The Instagram’s decision to “maintain the integrity of this space” and (later in their statement about the cease-and-desist) “note again that we are not anti-athletes; not every member on teams or other student oriented organizations mentioned is an assaulter” was thus an apt decision. In regard to the cease-and-desist, “Sexual Assault On The Hill” did nothing wrong. The argument from various students for mandatory athlete attendance to the Summit, however – when most students were unrequired to attend – seems not to acknowledge that “not every member on teams... is an assaulter”.

On to the present, then. On November 26th, 2018, the Instagram published a compiled “list of demands for the administration based on your (the anonymous community’s) suggestions.” As of the date of this article, upwards of 470 signatures have been added to the end of the list. The demands include such efforts as providing a comprehensive report of all sexual assault incidents since December 2015, independent parties for investigating sexual assault, information about dismissing students and faculty on accusations of assault, and several other changes to administration. To view the demands, the list is accessible via the account’s Instagram biography.

Whether or not the demands are viable and should be put into effect (some may take issue with number 5, which demands a stance staunchly against Betsy DeVos’ proposed Title IX amendment that the accused be able to cross-examine the accuser) is a matter of opinion. One issue is more pressing: the moderators of the “Sexual Assault On The Hill” page have made changes to their petition of demands, without documented public notification, after students and faculty have already signed their names.

On the morning of November 27th, the first entry on the list demanded a comprehensive report (including results of cases) of all reported sexual assaults since December 2015. The final part of said entry requested that “this report conveys how many cases the Title IX office is currently judicating. We (presumably the petitioning members) expect this report by the end of the fall 2018 semester.” On the morning of November 28th, the entry had been amended to request also that the “report include the Title IX office’s budget and what its funding allocation is.” The date of expectation was also changed to January 20th, 2019. The seventh entry, which ended with “We demand transparency on these (Title IX) management plans, including the funding aspect” was also significantly emended. The November 28th edition extended that concluding line to a seven-line statement about how the Instagram’s popularity indicates that Title IX might be overstretched and under-resourced; thereby, it might require an additional staff member or office.

The content of the demands, frankly, is not much different than before. Most, if not all, petitioners would likely keep their names on the document in light of the changes. The lack of transparency, however – despite posting stories and updates, “Sexual Assault On The Hill” has still not made a public announcement of the changes to the demands – is troubling. When students and faculty add their names to a petition, they sign their assent to all the document’s demands, questions, and ideals. If the petition is edited after their signage, is their assent still valid? What of those who would wish to pull their names from the signature list if the content is changed? Without information, how can they make an informed decision? Most glaring is that nothing prevents the account’s anonymous moderators, under such circumstances, from making more drastic changes without informing their signers.

Only a few hours prior to this article, the Instagram posted another update asking to “spread the word” and that the “demands will be submitted 12/3 at 6PM.” I hope that the signers don’t mind the changes. 

The Summit's Not It

Well-intentioned and confused. What else is there to say about November 16th’s  ENGAGE Summit?

Late in October, the Holy Cross community received various emails regarding a hate crime on campus. Public Safety explained: “...a Holy Cross student reported an aggravated assault & battery motivated by bias (sexual orientation) that occurred on campus between Clark Hall and Brooks-Mulledy Hall on October 27 between 2:00 a.m. and 3:00 a.m. The incident has been reported to DPS.” Responses from Dean Murray, President Boroughs, and other officials on campus condemned and expressed grief over the tragic event.

In response, a petition, which began in an English class, was dispersed to all members of the Holy Cross community (student, faculty, and alumni alike) by groups such as Pride, individual members of the faculty, staff, and student body, and the English Department itself. The petition called to “...cancel classes, athletics, and all extra-curricular events for a day. Or several days. Or a week. In place of these we would hold teach-ins, vigils, (and) community conversations.” Professor Leah Cohen of the English Department said that she would deliver the petition to Father Boroughs on November 8th, having garnered roughly 1000 signatures from faculty, staff, alumni, and students. The next day, November 9th, Father Boroughs sent out an email inviting the Holy Cross community to the ENGAGE Summit, which would  “...direct our collective attention to a conversation and exploration of our culture at Holy Cross and the steps we need to take to build a community that supports and celebrates all its members.” He further expounded that “This will be an important first step, but not the only step, in addressing issues of respect and inclusion on our campus.” The conclusion was to cancel classes and extracurriculars on the afternoon of Friday the 16th, then hold the Summit in their place.

The Summit’s sessions viewed inclusion (otherwise known, in most cases, as tolerance) and respect as complete, unquestionable agreement with and affirmation of another group, regardless of ideology. We, however, believe that tolerance does not necessitate agreement; rather, it entails a sort of unconditional respect for another person, regardless of his ideas. Every person has equal dignity, and we should act in a way that befits it. When you notice our encouragement of tolerance and respect later in this article, please note that we disassociate ourselves with the Summit’s definitions.

Students and faculty were encouraged to conceive of and facilitate various sessions addressing concerns with tolerance and respect within the community. Planning was limited, with merely a week to organize events. While the initial petition focused on the hate crime that occurred on campus, the untimeliness and lack of clear information as to its purpose threw the whole Summit into a bewildering muddle. When the list of events was distributed via email, confusion as to their variety grew: the first two main “sessions,” which each lasted for an hour, had about twenty optional events each. Each event lasted for the full hour. Talks would be held concerning women’s issues, Title IX, race, spirituality, international students, masculinity, etc. The third (and final) Summit session in Kimball was to tie together and address all these issues as the entire Holy Cross community. Due to that sheer quantity, questions started buzzing about what exactly the Summit was for. Many thought it was a reaction to the LGBT assault. Some, however, held it was also in response to the culture of sexual assault on campus or even in reaction to the Synagogue shooting in Pittsburgh.

However, when too many issues are addressed simultaneously, they must be watered down in order to assure that each receives equal consideration. In the attempt to solve every pressing issue, no issue receives the community’s undivided attention. The result is further division, which forces individuals to choose and prioritize certain issues based on their personal grievances. Such was the case with the Summit. With such a great diversity and quantity of events, the students who attended chose whichever ones appealed to them most personally. The profusion of topics led to fewer good ideas focused on a single campus-wide issue (such as sexual violence or racial discrimination, for example), and left the community with confused concepts of “progress.” As expressed by Father Boroughs, the Summit was to be the first step towards progress. Due to the conflation of issues, however, we students have no clue where this next step should or will go. (In fact, in over a week, there has been no follow-up email from the College’s administration.)

If we are to progress as a community, we, as students, alumni, faculty, and staff, must work together and strive for that “next step” without any further division. Efforts such as the Summit, however, create three separate communities: the involved, the indifferent, and the dissenters. The involved members have supported the cause since the beginning. They believed that an event such as the ENGAGE Summit is the correct response to any relevant issue. Because of their concerns, the involved were the most educated before the Summit and the most active during. The indifferent, on the other hand, had no bias either way. They were encouraged to shirk their disinterest and become advocates for the involved, so although they had no strong desire to participate, some attended, while some did not. Finally, the dissenters can be divided into two subgroups: those who believe issues shouldn’t be handled in the manner they were, and those whom the Summit was meant to address. The latter group includes, for the most part, assaulters — whether that be on sexual or physical grounds, such as whoever instigated the “aggravated assault & battery motivated by bias.”

The dissenters, regardless of the aforementioned subgroups, were expected to change sides, realize the “error of their ways,” and convert. They were not excluded, per se, but why would someone who disagrees with the Summit’s ideals even bother to attend at all? While the event claimed to center around open discussion, it appeared more like an opportunity for the involved to vent and strengthen the beliefs they already had. You can’t expect that spewing ideals at someone who disagrees with you will magically cause him to change his ways. To teach someone to love, you must love him. To prompt someone to become respectful and tolerant, he must see that we believe and support respect and tolerance. We must all act as guides, not lecturers. The issue of guidance furthers the problems with the Summit’s multiplicity of events. We cannot guide, much less expect the dissenters to follow, through a maze of topics. Simple, focused efforts of love and guidance are the only way to promote tolerance and respect.

This is why we two writers are dissenters of the Summit — part of the subgroup that believes issues should have been handled in a different manner, but dissenters nonetheless. Although we acknowledge the Summit’s good intentions, we do not believe this is the first step, by any means, to bettering our community. We are not denying the presence of any issues. However, we are denying the Summit’s effectiveness. Further, the Summit, as a formulaic “Tolerance 101,” sent down by the administration and its ideological cronies, interferes with the already natural and (mostly) tolerant community we have on campus. Improvement must come, willingly and enthusiastically, from individuals able to properly guide the outliers towards tolerance and respect.

The Summit’s efforts engaged 1200-1500 members of the community, according to the SGA Instagram, which is an underwhelming percentage when considering all the student body, faculty, staff, and alumni. Thus, it does indeed reflect the exclusion of those who needed it most. Of these participants, how many were coerced by extra-credit or mandatory attendance from professors? How many were able to actually learn and develop as members of the community? How many were the dissenters whose disrespect must be addressed?

We don’t believe in hate. We don’t condone violence. We support tolerance. We support respect. But we cannot support the Summit. We believe action must be taken to confront these issues by focused, individual guidance, not a plethora of “talks.” Instead, it is our responsibility as guides to spread love and tolerance, respect individuals, and better the world around us.

What I Learned from the Feminist Forum

Dialogue. A noble ideal. We participate in dialogue so that we can become better people. Here at Holy Cross, we pride ourselves on being able to address controversial topics boldly. In my three years as a student here, however, I’ve noticed that what is labeled as “dialogue” is all too often one voice in many different tones. In fact, it’s truly rare to hear an outright disagreement on campus. As a philosophy major, forbidden dinner topics – divisive politics, religion, and morality – are kind of my “thing”; I crave disagreement, controversial opinions, and “hot takes.” Here at Holy Cross, we seem to proudly find common ground in our aversion towards acknowledging a conflict of opinions. Like-minded folks merely get together and express things which they all already agree with. Agreement is fine, but it is most certainly not dialogue, and we shouldn’t pawn it off as part of our “open to growth” Jesuit identity. There can be no dialogue without dissenting voices, and here at Holy Cross, where we always remind ourselves that we are so divided, one must ask: where are the dissenting voices? Why is nobody arguing?

There can be no community-wide dialogue if we are not open to opposition; one’s mind must not be permanently fixed. In this way, the conversation begins within the individual. One must allow for the possibility of dissent and doubt within oneself.

A recent event made me aware of this. Holy Cross’s own Feminist Forum and Students for Life co-hosted a discussion of abortion and feminism, and the dialogue proved to be organic and engaging, a breath of fresh air unstifled by the presence of a moderator. I’m not quite sure if any common ground was found, and people’s opinions on abortion, in all likelihood, stayed the same. Nevertheless, this experience made me aware of something that I believe can be used to help cultivate authentic and engaging debate between legitimately opposing viewpoints.

It all started with some honest introspection. After the Students for Life-Feminist Forum discussion, I reflected on how I speak differently when addressing pro-life and pro-choice people despite talking about the same thing: my views on abortion. The change in my style of speech, dependent on whether my company is in agreement or opposition, forced me to wonder about my motives for speaking at all. What was I trying to hide that would make me change the way I presented my views?

Upon reflection, it turns out that a lot of my reasons aren’t as pure as I would like to admit. Take my pro-life views for example. I’m pro-life because I believe that the taking of innocent human life through abortion is bad, and I firmly believe that there are better ways to help women in pregnancy crises – ways that hold up our society’s commitment to equality and justice. This motivation to serve women and children is all well and good, and it’s something I’m proud to profess. However, if I look within, I know that my commitment to love is not the only thing that drives me. My pro-life views are all-too-often hijacked by less generous impulses. I realize that my pro-life views on social justice often draw power from hate, serving as an expression of my frustration and anger against those who espouse pro-choice views. Animosity is a powerful motivator.

We hardly ever let ourselves doubt our noble motives. All the hatred and the ill-will: those belong to the other side, we tell ourselves. We are in the right, they are in the wrong, and we make this known within the comfort of our group. Having had genuine conversations with well-intentioned people we disagree with, like the ones I had with the Feminist Forum, we start to doubt that our motives are as pure as we would let ourselves believe.

I urge you, if you are deeply committed to something, to critically examine what drives your conviction. Identify the worst possible reason for holding your particular view, then go ahead and assume that some strain of that is what drives you to be so passionate about your specific cause. Contend with that possibility. Let it scare the hell out of you. We at a Jesuit Catholic school have a duty to do this. After all, we are “all about” discernment. These are forces that drive us, so let’s get to know them.

Here’s an exercise: Go ahead and assume that the side you oppose is correct in their caricature of you.

For example:
Staunch capitalist? – assume you are motivated by neglect for the poor, believing that they ought to suffer.
Budding socialist? – assume that you don’t really care about the poor – you just hate and envy the rich.
Pro-life? – assume you are motivated by the thrill you get from imposing your morals on others.
Pro-choice? – assume your commitment to abortion-rights stems not from a desire to help women in crisis pregnancies but rather from a disdain for the responsibility implicit in unsafe sex.

Why do this? After all, the mere questioning of personal motives in no way proves or disproves the righteousness or depravity of any particular cause. In this way, I’m not saying that you should go ahead and stop fighting for what you are passionate about. As a human, to some degree your motives are inevitably distorted. That’s just the situation we find ourselves in. Instead, this exercise is meant to foster a very necessary sense of self-doubt. The first step towards becoming a good human being is the knowledge that you are not a good human being. Through getting to know the real identity which drives you, you will be better prepared to cultivate the good and contend with the bad within you. Don’t be naïve, assuming that you are innocent and entirely justified; you are not an angel, and neither are your compatriots in your particular cause. At present, we all inhabit a place somewhere between heaven and hell. From this basic understanding, then, go forth and stand for what you stand for, but do so continually examining your motives. Be vigilant and skeptical of the forces that drive you.

The practice of assuming the worst of yourself – fostering self-doubt – is also the very virtue required to approach dialogue with others: humility. If you want to become a better person and make the world a better place, you need to face the reality of your potential to be motivated by evil.  Assuming that the views you are most passionate and proud to hold are – in part – driven by the worst motives, you will become a more morally aware person. This, in turn, will make you much more capable of dealing with the division that besets our school, community, and nation.