Encouragement When Change is Hard

We all get frustrated sometimes.

In the mid-1980s, my mentor, Jaclyn, was getting a master’s degree at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, CA. She was a layperson studying with Jesuits who would go on to become Roman Catholic priests.

During one of my visits, she gave me a cassette tape, professionally done but not that professional, of 70s Catholic folk worship music. (If the phrase 70s Catholic folk worship music doesn’t scare you, lower your meds—the dose is too high.)

All things considered; it wasn’t half bad.

One song stood out, with a lyric I can easily recall 35 years later, “Don’t worry about the dirt in the soil; flowers still grow there. Flowers still grow.”

While a quick Google search to find the difference between dirt (it’s dead stuff) and soil (it’s living with organic matter) wasn’t available at the time, it still made sense.

It was an observation that good continues to blossom even in bad circumstances. While we often can’t change or influence events, people, or situations around us (for whatever reason), we can focus on cultivating what we can, where we can. Most of the time, we continue to have the ability to work on something positive.

It’s not being a Pollyanna, nor a suggestion to stay in an abusive environment, but rather an understanding that we continue to have agency. There are likely more chances to help things grow for the better than we realize.

When it comes to higher education, there are a lot of challenges that seem to be intractable. Obsession with prestige, DEI implementation, the culture war, funding issues, pricing issues, technical challenges, demographic changes, increased competition, and, while we are at it, throw in traditional academic infighting and turf battles. It can all be a bit much.

The odds are stacked in favor of the status quo, an uncaring bureaucracy, a hidebound culture. At times, it can seem pointless to think things will ever get better.

And yet….

The further down into an institution we get, away from the office of presidents, provosts, deans, and faculty council meetings, the picture becomes brighter.

Despite the noise, amazing things continue to happen. Love for art, poetry, music, science, math, literature, philosophy, history, economics, engineering, architecture, and the rest—blossoms. Every day. Every year. At every institution.

Passions are found. Callings are heard. Careers are started. Students’ lives are transformed—forever.

Researchers continue to unlock the mysteries of the universe, develop new medicines and procedures to reduce pain and prolong life, produce life-changing technologies, and give us critical new insights into the human condition.

Faculty and staff have a profound influence on the lives of millions of students, giving them encouragement, support, and guidance, creating an environment where they can thrive.

Memories, romances, and lifelong friendships are forged in study halls, chat rooms, and the campus commons.

We celebrate all of it at commencement. The joy of students and their families, especially first-generation graduates, is palpable even before cheers fill the air when a name is called, steps are taken, and a diploma is awarded.

As we seek to move higher education in new directions, engaging with colleges and universities as they are today while calling them forward to something new, I think of Robert Kennedy’s quote, a take on a line from George Bernard Shaw. “Some men see things as they are and ask, ‘Why?’ I dream things that never were and ask, ‘Why not?’"

When hiking in Colorado, I have come across a single tree growing out of a rock wall—more than once.

Life shouldn’t be there, but there it is. It’s amazing what can blossom in places where we think it can’t.

Flowers still grow there, indeed.

P.S. After working on this, I Googled the lyric. It’s from the song “Flowers Still Grow There” on the 1978 “Wood Hath Hope” album by John Foley, S.J. (a Jesuit priest). It’s on Spotify.