Every organization has a purpose. Sometimes, it’s as simple as making money. Other times, it involves complex philanthropic goals or a “we want to be the best” mindset. Similarly, a “community of memory” is an “organizational conscience, retaining what a given organization deems as good” (Arnett, Fritz, & Bell, 2009, p. 145).
Working at an all-boys Episcopal boarding school, our goal is to produce young men of character who are ready for college. The academic side of this purpose is arguably more quantifiable and easier to judge in some cases. Instilling a sense of character—which is much more challenging in my opinion—relies on the given sense of the good in our community of memory.
A Meaningful Story
“A community of memory connects us to meaningful stories and, in addition, to others who contributed to that community of memory.”
(Arnett et al., 2009, p. 146)
Reading this sentence in the textbook reminded me of an old tale in our community—a story of those who contributed to the fabric of our school. The story, while tragic, is the epitome of true selflessness. We tell this story mostly in the name of tradition, but I feel as though it has a higher purpose in relation to our community of memory. Normally, we tell this story in about an hour. For your sake and mine, I’ll paraphrase a bit.
Let’s put the story into some historical context. First, think of Western North Carolina in the 1920’s. Next, imagine you’re at a boarding school in the same region. These two settings seem to contradict each other, right? I think it’s fair to say that this isn’t your typical boarding school.
Enter our first character, known best as Greasy Spoon. He got this nickname from the utensil he supposedly used to slick his hair back. Legend has it that his hair product of choice was—you guessed it—butter. Greasy wasn’t the smartest guy in his class, but he got by. One day, Greasy decided to go for a swim in the lake on campus with two of his classmates. All of them weren’t the best of swimmers, so they stuck to the shallow areas.
Next, we meet Roy Wingate—the star of the senior class. He was a stellar student, athlete, and all-around great guy. Roy was on the road to greatness, as it would seem.
Back at the lake, Greasy and his friends are having fun swimming. Lost in the moment, all three boys drift out of the shallow area and into deeper waters. Realizing their mistake, Greasy and his friends start to panic. They scream for help, and struggle to keep their heads above water. Nearby, Roy hears their cries and runs to their aid.
Roy jumps in and gets the first two boys to safety, but Greasy is starting to get tired. His head drops below the surface before Roy can get to him. Roy dives down into the murky water and grabs Greasy. Even with his superior strength, Roy struggles to pull Greasy up to the surface. Greasy’s weight is just too much.
Knowing what he had to do, Roy loosens his grip on Greasy temporarily. He dives down below Greasy, putting Greasy’s full weight on his shoulders. In a last ditch effort, Roy launches Greasy out of the water and back into the shallow area. In doing this, Roy’s feet sink into the sticky mud on the bottom of the lake. Exhausted, Roy can’t get himself free. Greasy and the boys scream for help, but there’s no one else nearby. Roy perishes underwater, but not without knowing he’d saved the lives of his classmates.
In giving his life for Greasy and his friends, Roy displayed pure, unbridled selflessness. He is immortalized by this act of unselfishness. We tell this story not to advocate that our students give their lives for each other, but to teach them that caring for each other is paramount, no matter the consequences. We contribute to our community of memory by advocating for this sense of brotherhood and care for others.
Rhetorical Interruptions
“A rhetorical interruption is simply a communicative event that disrupts our sense of the routine. Rhetorical interruptions startle lives. Few of us would volunteer for a constant meeting of difference.”
(Arnett et al., 2009, p. 164)
So what happens when we betray this brotherhood or sisterhood and fail to care for others? Sadly, this is a regular occurrence in many schools. Our differences—viewed as a roadblock by some—get in the way. A student’s race, sexuality, gender identity, or socio-economic status is seen as controversial or inferior by another. This betrayal or lack of care would be a rhetorical interruption—an act that contradicts an organization’s community of memory (Arnett et al., 2009, p. 164).
Like any community, we’ve had plenty of rhetorical interruptions. We’ve had to negotiate our differences over time. Half a century ago, a person’s race was at the forefront of our cultural conflict. These days, gender identity and sexuality join race as predominant issues. The question now is: how do we approach race and LGBTQ issues in single-gender private education? It’s a particular question, but one we must consider.
Out of respect for the school and our students, I offer no single experience to exemplify such an interruption. The fact remains, however, that an encroachment of difference calls us to revisit and examine our community of memory—the stories and people who shape our school’s identity. As such, we are obligated to ask ourselves everyday, “What does this [school] stand for?” (Arnett et al., 2009, p. 150).
Embracing Difference
“The power and force of difference in [schools, communities, and countries] reminds us of the importance and the difficulty of difference. Yet we can no longer assume commonality; difference is the norm.”
(Arnett et al., 2009, p. 158)
The story of Roy Wingate and Greasy Spoon is not one of difference, even though it features a heroic jock and an average Joe. Rather, the story symbolizes our ongoing commitment as an academic community to care for each other as individuals. We know now—nearly 100 years after Roy’s passing—that this care requires us to welcome difference in every possible way.
This is not to say that inviting difference is an easy task; it most certainly is not. We must remind ourselves, however, that “diversity will not cease, and the defining communicative element of this moment is that our awareness of diversity continues to increase” (Arnett et al., 2009, p. 158). Gone are the days of small communities with little or no exterior influence. Accepting this postmodern norm is the first step in acknowledging our differences.
Once we accept this fact, we see the power and force of difference. This closeness to difference in our modern society requires us to learn and hope for a greater understanding of each other. After all, what good is care if it doesn’t apply to everyone we encounter and learn about? If we are truly advocating for brotherhood and a community of care, cultural differences must be accepted and embraced.
References:
- Arnett, R. C., Fritz, J. M., & Bell, L. M. (2009). Communication ethics literacy: Dialogue and difference. Los Angeles, CA: Sage Publications.