Yesterday we went up the street to inquire into membership at a fitness club. Upon entering, I initially balked at the process. To get any answers, we had to register on a computer and provide an email. Then we had to state our goals. Goals, really? I just want to know what they offer and what it costs.
But the young man who caught us at the door seemed inordinately pleasant, so I signed in. His name was Dave and he gave us “the tour.” The place wasn’t as loud as I expected, nor did it bombard us with video screens. Most people looked like normal folks and not Hollywood models, which was also encouraging.
Still, as we continued to talk to this fellow, I became more interested in his story than in the treadmills. He had just received a bachelor’s degree from a local “community” college (they’ve gotten so fancy down here, no one calls them that any more). His degree was in . . . guess what? Kinesiology? Biometrics? Nope. Try philosophy!
It then came out that he had graduated from a terrific local Lutheran high school known for its Classical program. And he will be heading in the fall to a Catholic university to pursue a Masters degree in philosophy or theology. Now, you don’t expect to be meet that person when you walk into a gym, do you?
Well, he was fit, as you’d expect. But it was his mind that really was fit. Within minutes we were discussing Great Books programs and Latin curricula. We barely got around to aquatic classes and membership programs.
I’ve been smiling ever since meeting him. Because this is what’s happening: slowly, silently, kids are emerging from this revival of learning we call the Classical education movement, whether out of private schools, magnet public schools, or homeschools. These kids have obtained what used to be a standard education, but now is considered exceptional. And they realize that everything they have mastered—from Latin to memory work to handwriting (who in the past would have called that an elite skill?)—will pay off.
Yes, they’ll have to slug through the messy intervals that youth inevitably brings: summer jobs in places like fitness centers and uncertainty as to what the next step will be in their educational advance. But they exude an eloquence and sense of peace that I find inspiring.
They know they are still the “odd-man-out” in our lowbrow, screen-driven culture. But they have a palpable confidence in their skills and the ability, en masse, to affect change. They can think. They can write and speak. And they are determined to find answers.
With the intense travel I’m doing right now (back Monday from Russia, headed Thursday to Poland), I ought to be thinking about my Krakow lectures or the 50 things I need to do before snapping my suitcase closed tomorrow.
But instead, I’m sitting in the predawn with my teacup, reflecting on this young man and our delightful meeting. I don’t know whether we’ll join this fitness center or stick with our YMCA, which lies farther away. But it doesn’t matter. I can find the same excuses not to work out in either place.
On the other hand, knowing that this gym boasts a thoughtful, literate employee who is as well versed in Thomas Merton as he is in muscle building, well, that’s pretty tempting, don’t you think?
