My name is James Hatch, and I recently graduated from Yale College at the age of fifty-six.
I majored in the Humanities and, wow, did I learn! In my previous life, I served in the U.S. Special Operations community and deployed to various conflicts, from Bosnia to Afghanistan. I joined the service quite young, and college wasn’t on my personal menu as a teenager. Over the years, I had heard the term “liberal education,” and I didn’t really understand how important that type of education can be or what liberal education truly meant.
Now I know.
Here is a good definition: “A system of education aimed at cultivating a free human being, emphasizing broad knowledge, transferable skills, values, ethics, and civic engagement.” (The Association of American Colleges and Universities)
What did a liberal education do for me, personally, at Yale University?
First off, the environment at Yale is such that even for a guy like me, who had visited much of the world, I was fortunate to sit in classes next to people from places all over the globe.
This means that, regardless of the class subject, I was exposed to the thinking of other humans who essentially come from different worlds. People who see things, like economic issues, or cultural values, in a very different way. As a man who participated in armed conflict, I cannot express how valuable is the opportunity to meet “strangers” and listen to them as humans, not as a “group.”
Second, from the art classes I took, to the STEM courses I attended, the instructors were “all in,” even if they came from opposite cultures. The differences in the various disciplines of study at Yale are as significant as the differences among the people who teach them. My math professor was a no-bs, but kind, woman — an excellent teacher who seemed to enjoy 10-12 students (including the old guy, me) sitting on her office floor working out problems during office hours. She was a pro. My art professor and his teaching fellows were also professional (and presentable), but they had a much different appearance. Well-coiffed and impeccably dressed, they exuded their affinity for appearance and style. Not really a math kind of thing! Both classes injected my soul with nutrition I didn’t know I needed.
Third, my classes on literature and philosophy were my favorite, and it was in these classes that I came to think significantly about issues foreign to me. Or maybe a better way of saying it is: literature and philosophy made me ask questions about what I really believe and what is important to me. A life in the military can create an existence quite distant from one’s core beliefs, as your core beliefs are largely provided for you. In the military, you are part of a team. Personal development outside of those things necessary to be effective in one’s given military vocation are not given much weight. In my lit and philosophy classes, I learned how to think about things I’d never considered. Things like the “original” state of humans. Locke, Rousseau, and Hobbes all have different views about what humans are, or were, but my class discussions around those ideas forced me to harken back to my times in combat — and that was a very rough journey. Looking at myself and my own choices and conduct under the guidance of thinkers like those — or, say, someone like Toni Morrison — made me examine my ideas about humanity and myself. While that can be tough, it is, for me, mandatory from a personal development perspective.
In the end, as a human who enthusiastically trained for or participated in, state-sponsored armed conflict over several decades, I credit Yale with expanding my consciousness. What does that mean exactly? It means that my previous “givens” regarding my fellow humans were tossed out the window. I’m no pacificist, but I do see the need for better thinking and better leadership. Especially when considering sending “other people’s” kids to war. Yale will help me build bridges in my journey to share that important message. Other people’s kids are important, and that is why liberal education is such a gift to me. The more people I meet, the more I see our mutual humanity.