Athenians, Spartans & Philistines

(Written December 10, 2010)

Do you remember studying Athens and Sparta in high school? The two most powerful of the Greek city-states fought the Peloponnesian War and represented to the modern imagination the two sides of human nature. The Spartans were masculine, disciplined, truculent, martial and unreflective. The Athenians, on the other hand, were more androgynous, free-spirited, peaceful, artistic and philosophical. This contrast seemed to fire the modern imagination and its love of dualism. The truth was more complex, of course, as it always is. Yet it was easy to classify personalities as fundamentally Athenian or Spartan. Custer was Spartan. Thoreau was Athenian. MacArthur was Spartan. Einstein was Athenian. Stalin was Spartan. Solzhenitsyn was Athenian. Nixon was Spartan. Lennon was Athenian. You get the picture.

It’s really not hard to see who the good guys are on the list. I mean, I know General MacArthur helped save civilization from totalitarianism and fascism. Yet one suspects that civilizations are built by the thinkers, not the warriors. As an artist, it’s pretty easy to see one’s role, too. There are several of my friends who serve in military bands (and God bless you Mike, Chris, Jeff, Kelly and the rest), but it’s hard to imagine myself going through basic training or wearing khakis every day. I find myself much more comfortable around people with nose rings and police records.

When I was young, someone pointed out to me that every city in the world named Athens has an institution of higher education. This was meant as tribute to this ancient culture of thinkers. I can’t think of any cities named Sparta. That’s not to say there aren’t any, just that the name is much less common. I suppose that when one founds a city, one would rather think of the foundations being philosophical than militaristic.

Yet, there is still one realm where the name of that ancient city is frequently invoked. You’ve already thought of it, I’m sure. The Spartan is still one of the favorite mascots of public high schools and colleges all across our country. Along with that other greaves-and-helmet-wearing mascot, the Trojan (the Crip to the Spartan’s Blood), the Spartan seems one of the least likely emblems of institutions dedicated to the life of the mind. So . . . what’s he doing there?

We seem uncomfortable in our country with those who spend their time thinking, discussing, creating art, writing or making scientific discoveries. Well, unless they beat someone else doing it. Then it’s okay. Glee is the most popular television show in America right now, and while I do enjoy Jane Lynch and its occasionally dark sense of humor, I doubt anyone would be watching if they were performing madrigal dinners. The story line is driven by the sense of competition. The students must compete with each other for chances in the spotlight. The teachers compete for resources and students. The choir is gearing up for the big state competition. And so on.

To many it seems downright un-American to suggest that one choose intellectual pursuits simply for their own enjoyment. There is something a little queer, isn’t there, in wanting to just sit around playing a saxophone or something? I mean, people don’t just read a book anymore do they? And writing poetry?! Shit. Why don’t you just wear a dress, boy?

I’ve been sickened for years at this strain of pure anti-intellectualism in schools. Think about that one for a second: anti-intellectualism in schools. We want schools to be places where students learn to think, yet we stigmatize the very act. Somehow we want them to spend all their time lifting weights and chasing tail but leave school smart enough to solve the world’s problems. I have sat in teacher meetings where veteran teachers admitted proudly to not having read a book in years. I have heard teachers ridicule other teachers for being such “know-it-alls.” That’s like Usain Bolt being mocked at the Olympics for running so fast. You’re supposed to be smart if you’re a teacher, dumb ass!! You’re supposed to know more than most of the kids, you’re supposed to encourage their questions, you’re supposed to help them love learning. If you don’t love learning, please do something else.

Being good at a sport that no one plays outside the U.S. does not qualify you to be a teacher. Using class time to free associate and espouse your personal religious or political beliefs does not constitute sound pedagogy. Your hobbies – scrapbooking, fly-fishing, quilting, NASCAR – do not constitute a curriculum. (I know: teachers shouldn’t be expected to check their personal ideologies at the door of the school and scrapbooking, fly-fishing, quilting and NASCAR can be used to raise student interest. I get it. But is that all you’re planning for the whole school year?)

In the arts we often refer to another ancient culture, the Philistines. To call someone a Philistine is to imply that he is uncultured or uneducated or demonstrates remarkably poor taste. Now, the Philistines make one lone appearance in ancient literature of which I am aware, and that is in the Old Testament of the Bible. You will probably remember them from the battle between David and Goliath. Almost nothing is known of their culture. Yet it is assumed that a culture that celebrates war and brute strength would not cherish the arts and letters.

The irony is this: the culture that cherishes winning over learning is the culture that loses. The shepherd-boy David, who played the harp and wrote songs, went on to be king in a very great nation that shaped the Western world. Goliath lives only in infamy. (How many Goliaths do you think are starting kindergarten this year?)

For you artistic Davids out there, remember that one small stone can fell a giant, if placed just right. We may not always win, but history is on our side.