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In Defense of Tweed, Pipes, and Classical Education

Within the walls of K-12 classical schools, you will nearly always find at least one of a particular type of teacher. You will have the most luck finding this teacher in front of the chalkboard in upper school humanities classrooms. Primarily, this teacher desires to teach because he adores his subject matter rather than his students, although he will learn to do the latter if he is adequate. Oftentimes, this teacher dons a tweed jacket, particularly in the colder months, although rather enthusiastic ones will also do so in the warmer ones. The stench—though he will call it an aroma—of pipe tobacco will emit from this jacket since he once read an article describing the traditional smoking jacket and believes it to be a tradition that must be brought back (primarily because he is attracted to the aesthetic nature of tweed, pipe, and perhaps a flat cap on his head). He enjoys dark liquor and even darker beer solely in moderation and knows The Silmarillion better than many of his contemporaries. He never shies away from opportunities to engage in conversation about higher ideas that he does not fully comprehend but enjoys struggling with. The teacher being described is a man since it is the man’s perspective that I grasp best; I acknowledge the existence of the female equivalent, but I invite a more competent hand to describe her.

In the modern, credentialist understanding, the tweed-wearing, tobacco-smoking teacher is not himself highly educated, as he generally possesses only a bachelor’s degree. Sometimes a master’s will be acquired sometime during his career. He idolizes and strives for an intellectualism beyond his credentials because he has read about, witnessed, and experienced the good life. He knows that there is goodness in pursuing education for the sake of itself and he is delighted by it. If a school is especially good, it will have more than one of these teachers, and they will gather in faculty break rooms and hallways to discuss ideas in philosophy, theology, literature, and science. They may not be adept at classroom pedagogy or fully understand the student-oriented nature of their work yet, and those among the faculty who are not excited about the same topics may frown upon these young men for being out of place or incompetent. After all, a school is a place for educating students. Your paycheck does not come from embodying pseudo-intellectualism!

However, closer observation will reveal that there is not much that is “pseudo” about their intellectual pursuits at all. The presence of these so-called “pseudo-intellectuals” among the faculty is exactly what classical schools need more of, especially “pseudo-intellectuals” who publicly pursue their intellectualism and who comport themselves in an academic manner through the way in which they dress, talk, walk, and consume. These teachers are not yet beaten into cynicism by abusive students and classroom parents, a development that many see as an inevitability. However, unlike many teachers, when these men encounter such students and parents, they will have their way of living to fall back upon. The excitement and wonder surrounding difficult topics pour directly into their classrooms and can excite their students in a similar manner. In schools that study authors such as Tolkien and Lewis, these men strive to be Tolkien and Lewis.Perhaps they will never publish a robust research article in a prestigious academic journal, pursue that elusive doctorate, or even fully understand the ideas that they know are excellent. But they are, at the very least, pursuing something that is worth pursuing, and their students will witness this pursuit. Classical education has historically been concerned with imitatio, or the replication of something excellent. Those in classical schools have no place to criticize emulation of that which is deemed excellent within the tradition if they demand the same of their students. These teachers embody this very imitation in their lifestyles and conversations overheard by students. In Idea of a School, John Senior writes that when students witness faculty conversing about something higher, the students may not understand it, but they will recognize it as something desirable and that its pursuit is something urgent.

Therefore, leaders should not be reticent to intentionally hire young and energetic intellectually minded men with little teaching experience. They will want to teach largely due to the unspoken fact that they probably have few professional prospects beyond teaching on account of their liberal arts degrees. But they must also be shown that the school is a self-contained environment where their love of the good is not only part of the philosophical undertones of the institution but is openly discussed. These men should be brought aboard, and community with them should be fostered, especially from faculty or leaders who may be wary of their rounded glasses resting lower on their noses. These men should not be ostracized by faculty who disagree with their methods or who may not find the same passions appealing, and certainly not by administrators and leaders in the school. Instead, leaders should allow these men to flourish.

These teachers are not without their pitfalls, and they must be wary of these pitfalls within themselves. There must not be an air of intellectual or moral superiority; this would certainly not align with the ideals they are striving to uphold. They must be humble in their interactions with other faculty and recognize that each position in the school is a mandatory note in an educational symphony—including their own. They must be coachable, for there are many who know more than they do about the art of teaching and these men must become excellent at it if they are to remain as teachers. If these pitfalls are avoided, and the wearer of tweed and smoker of pipe truly upholds the standard of conduct that he projects in his exterior and interior dispositions, then the benefits to school culture being described will come to fruition.

If these men meet these criteria and do not foster animosity but rather admiration and respect, then schools should ensure that these teachers are visible to younger students; the younger ones will have teachers to look forward to. Show them to older students; the older ones will know which conversations and ideas are worth engaging in. It will give the entire student body an intellectualism to aspire towards beyond what is within the texts and discussions encountered in the classroom. Perhaps there should be avenues for these teachers’ thoughts to be made public, such as an internal faculty journal or public lectures open to the entire school community. Schools must have the desire and openness to present themselves as places of intellectual flourishing beyond simply pitching themselves as “rigorous.” Schools would benefit from displaying the intellectual nature of an excited faculty. If a faculty is allowed to thrive intellectually, then it will show that the ideas students are discussing in the classroom can contribute not only to their essays and exams but also to their ways of life.

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