This morning I realized that back in December of last year I passed right over the 10 year mark of my graduation from the University of Oklahoma. I loved that place and I loved majoring in Letters. I loved almost everything about OU - walking through its beautiful campus, my challenging coursework, the library, the professors - but what I loved most was finally finding a place that embraced my endless barrage of WHY?
It was never okay to relentlessly ask why. Teachers - and almost any authority figure growing up - didn't see it as curiosity; it was obstinance. I can't count how many times I was accused of being argumentative when often I just wanted to understand, to dig deeper.
But the Classics and Letters department loved it. And Dr. Rufus Fears especially. He taught my capstone course that last semester in the fall of 2004. He became my mentor in a way. I would stop by once a week or so with a long list of questions I had after his lectures. He would wrestle with all my questions, and always matched my energy and earnestness for knowing. Even when I stumped him with a question that challenged some of his core beliefs, he didn't retreat or attack like almost everyone else - he was intrigued. He encouraged me to pursue the answer. It was such a validating experience!
I ran into him again several years later in 2009, after I'd married, started a family and moved to OKC. I was a stay at home mom with two little ones, but went out one night by myself to browse through Full Circle Bookstore. And I heard Dr. Fears' voice booming from across the store. He was holding a Great Books lecture series for senior citizens. I snuck in and talked with him afterward and he invited me to come back each week to listen to the series. It was so much fun. I hadn't been in that mode for years and years. I was stuck changing diapers, cooking meals and staring at piles of laundry. I missed college so much.
At the end of the last lecture, he sat down and talked with me for about 15 minutes - none of it about academics or abstract concepts. He wanted to talk about my family. My life now. He wanted to convince me (probably looking tired and adrift) how what I was doing now - as difficult, boring and tedious as it was - is so much more important than the work I did before, or even the work he was doing now. He said that Freedom (because I'm sure he always thought of it with a capital F) was grown in our homes. That raising and loving our children with love and truth and goodness and beauty was what would save our culture. That loving our children was alone the most lofty and noble accomplishment for a human being.
And that too, was such a validating experience. I will always be grateful for Dr. Fears and the entire time I spent at OU.