Hard Times

“Now, what I want is, Facts. Teach these boys and girls nothing but Facts. Facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else, and root out everything else. You can only form the minds of reasoning animals upon Facts: nothing else will ever be of any service to them. This is the principle on which I bring up my own children, and this is the principle on which I bring up these children. Stick to Facts, sir!”

Thomas Gradgrind in Hard Times

The bone chilling opening words of the rationalist schoolmaster in Charles Dickens’ novel Hard Times spring to mind as I reflect on my time spent as a Leaving Cert student. Throughout the last two years, the absorption and processing of Facts has become my raison d’etre. Many nights, I have spent hunched over my desk, with my brow furrowed, as I attempted to decipher the mystery that is the Modh Coinníollach in Irish and / or the black hole that is Suspense Accounts. Facts have been exalted to such an esteemed position in our education system, to the extent that the closest thing we get to catechism classes every week is our Physics teacher’s discourse on the “Holy Trinity” that is Newton’s three laws of motion. For us students, the “Promised Land” consists of the Leaving Cert exam hall where we’re given the chance to regurgitate these endless reams of Facts.

Whilst admitting, that I personally relished the challenge of the Leaving Cert and that I wrote the last paragraph with a hint of irony, it is no joke to say that a high percentage of students in this country see the Leaving Cert as the be-all and end-all. This to me is a very worrying thought. I like to think that I was sheltered from the brunt of the Leaving Cert hysteria due to the strong Catholic faith with whichh I have been gifted. At the end of the day, it helped me to put into perspective that the Leaving Cert is only a set of the exams and nothing more. For a lot of my classmates who don’t hold the same conviction of faith, however, the Leaving Cert can seem like a lot more malevolent process. For many students, results day is akin to Judgement Day with the CAO playing the role of the omnipotent being. But unlike Christ who is infinitely merciful and just, the CAO is a cruel judge bestowing courses upon people by virtue of the points they garnered, non-withstanding the effort they put in. Often it is a mere 5 points which is the difference between ecstasy and despair. My heart goes out to students who fall into a spiral of depression on failing to obtain their course and to those who feel they are defined by the grades they receive.

This sympathy however, quickly turns to anger as I ponder how the education system and media have allowed these simple exams swell into the golden calf of society today. The Leaving Cert has been given so much saturation by the incessant media coverage in recent years, it is difficult for students to avoid falling into the trap of viewing the exams as a god in itself. The book Hard Times which I mentioned above, is a harrowing tale of the damage that an education system can wreak on the youth in particular, when Facts are given celestial status (to the extent Dickens feels the need to capitalise the word) and when ideals such as faith and creativity are treated as taboo. Dickens illustrates the perils of such a system through the cataclysmic downfall of the principal’s son and daughter from ideal archetypes of the system to a felon on the run and a stunted emotional wreck respectively. Once Gradgrind (quoted above) realised the calamitous effect his ideology was having on his children he was immediately contrite and realised that from then on his now debunked facts and figures must always be subservient to “Faith, Hope and Charity”.  Catholic schools in Ireland today would do well to heed Dickens’ advice: indeed it is a grave responsibility and if I may I’d like to venture a few suggestions about how these theological virtues can be fostered and cultivated.

Charity

“If I … have not charity” says the Apostle, “I am nothing”. Since it’s the greatest of all virtues, charity is the natural place to begin. In the consumer driven, individualistic society in which we live today, where corporate multinationals rule the roost, charity can often seem in very short supply. And for that reason it is increasingly vital that it is fostered in schools. I have to admit my school has done a stellar job in imbuing this virtue in their students.  Countless times over the past six years, I’ve been moved by the schools response in the face of tragedy. This charity could manifest itself through everything from a spontaneous fundraising drive in the aftermath of the Nepal earthquake to a Hail Mary recited on the intercom on hearing of a personal tragedy that has struck one of the students in the school. The school also has a proud tradition of enlisting Transition Year students  into community work and I also am personally in debt to the school for giving me the means to serve as a volunteer on the Lourdes pilgrimage last year. Along with promoting academia, charity must be at the heart of all Catholic schools.

Faith

A common neurosis which I believe spreads across the majority of Catholic schools on this isle today is the prevalence of inept faith formation. Apart from the occasional Mass or perhaps a one day retreat in fifth year, any talk of faith or belief is firmly cordoned off. For many schools the superficiality of a school’s Catholic ethos becomes apparent during “Religion” class (and I emphasise the air quotes). Instead of learning about the truths of the Catholic doctrine, students are taught a politically sanitised, banal morality where nothing is right or wrong and where relativism is key.  Whilst subjects such as prayer are off limits, I’ve sat through many religion classes listening to teachers exhort the uses of contraception. Despite being a practising Catholic, there’s many times I wished I attended a non- denominational school as it would excuse me of the burden of having to sit through such “Religion” classes.  Before proponents of these classes argue I’m an exception to the rule, it’s interesting to note that the atheists and agnostics of the class harboured a similar disillusionment as these classes impinged on the amount of time we had available for something more worthwhile, such as our extra subject Applied Maths.

With the vultures circling over the devolvement of Catholic schools, it’s clear we’ve reached the Rubicon regarding Catholic education in Ireland as we know it. The passing of the gay marriage referendum and the recent lobbying by Amnesty International for a repeal of Ireland’s abortion laws mean it is more vital than ever for teachers to proclaim the beauty of the Catholic faith. If schools are not prepared to pick up their cross and follow Christ through teaching the hard truths such as the unborn child’s right to life and the truths about human sexuality contained in Humanae Vitae, I think they would be best served to devolve their Catholic ethos. Teachers may be tentative to do this on the grounds that they may expect a backlash from parents or even the government but the bottom line is, it’s the students that count. To quote Archbishop Timothy Dolan on the hunger he sees in young people for a more authoritative church voice in education, particularly regarding sexuality-They will be quick to say, ‘By the way, we want you to know that we might not be able to obey it…. But we want to hear it. And in justice, you as our pastors need to tell us, and you need to challenge us.’’

Hope

Whilst the challenges that Catholic schools face may seem insurmountable, it is important to remember that as Christians we must always be people of indefatigable hope. I believe that if we have constant recourse to Our Lady and the other patrons of education in Ireland it won’t be long until hope becomes airborne again in our schools. And whenever that happens, maybe the Leaving Cert won’t seem like such a big deal after all.

About the Author: Seán Hurley

Seán Hurley is a first year student in University College Dublin.