Elisabeth Kwak-Hefferan: Debating the merits of the liberal arts

"Tell me honestly: Do you think I'm selling my soul?"

So asked my friend over dinner at the peak of an energetic dispute about McDonald's. What had begun with an innocent remark about how disappointing it was to see the golden arches on every street corner in the country had become a clash of our personal educational viewpoints. Ideologies, if you will.

See, my friend and I have taken completely different paths in our college careers. Where I went the humanities route, she gravitated toward business. Where my study hours are filled with Shakespeare, postmodernism and the sociological effects of the baby boom, hers are spent in contemplation of market strategies, product testing and the art of the conference call. In short, my education has been Liberal Arts with a capital "L," and hers has been Practical.

What neither of us realized (until the fateful Mickey Dee's conversation) was the extent to which these past three and a half years have funneled us into particular ways of viewing the world.

As I saw it, the ubiquity of McDonald's (or Starbucks, or any other corporation similarly hell-bent on world domination) was dangerously homogenizing culture, and the loss of local flavor to the muscle of the big cheeses of business was a kind of tragedy. She, on the other hand, could see no problem with fulfilling an obvious consumer demand for low-cost, standardized cheeseburgers. The details aren't important -- what was illuminating was the fact that neither of us had ever even considered the situation from the other's eyes.

Funny how college can do that. We pack up after high school and set off for lands unknown with the goals of broadening our horizons, expanding our minds, becoming well-rounded and worldly. But you only get a semester or two of happily packing your schedule with whatever strikes your fancy before you realize that graduating on time forces you to pick a major, narrow your course selections -- and get on the path to your own personal educational pigeonhole.

There's just not enough time to take Abnormal Psychology and Marketing, Management and Ancient Greek Culture. So despite a general requirement or two to shake up our comfort zones, we're left with a rather restricted transcript. And, if we're not careful, a stale pattern of thinking, too.

It's easy to forget that no major or concentration will give you the whole story on life. In fact, this whole "major" concept could almost make students ill-equipped for the world beyond the ivory tower.

When I was choosing colleges, someone told me that a liberal arts education was the way to go because it would teach me "how to think" rather than "what to think." A lovely idea, but what if for all your essays on philosophy and musings on poetic symbolism, you graduate and can't figure out how to get a car loan? You may be all set when it comes to literature or history but clueless when it comes to investing your paycheck.

And conversely, even the diehard Wall Street types must admit that a straight set of business courses can't tell you all there is to know. You may be a champ at customer relations or leading board meetings, but can you keep up with a conversation about the pillars of the humanities -- the elements of culture and what my business friend called "the matters of the soul"?

So there's a real disconnect between the liberal artsy folks and the practicality people, latent enough until one assumes the other looks at the world through the same lenses and a clash ensues. But seeing as I would rather have sharp sticks poked under my nails than take statistics and my friend feels the same way about Modern British Literature, somehow forcing students to mix up their courseloads isn't the answer.

I'm just lucky to have a friend like her to open up my eyes and make me consider life (and McDonald's) in another way. Diversity includes world perspectives as well as race, gender and religion, and just as in those cases, a variety of views is always a good -- and educational -- thing. And whatever pearls of wisdom you can't get across to your peers of the opposite mindset, you can always trade in kind. My friend and I joke about an agreement: She'll do my taxes, I'll take her kids to museums.

What d'ya know, peers really can teach you something you won't get in the classroom, and discussion over happy hour can go a long way in broadening our horizons after all.

So, to answer my friend's question, of course you're not selling your soul. And if you want to discuss it further, I'm always up for happy hour.

Elisabeth Kwak-Hefferan is a senior communications major from Wheaton, Ill. Six Feet One appears on Tuesdays.

Please note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Pennsylvanian.