by Jan McGuinness
The benefit of a good education is to never be bored in your own company, according to my late grandmother.
While mathematicians, engineers and scientists are challenged and simulated by problem solving and calculating figures in their heads, what granny had in mind was a life-enriching education in the humanities. That was what I was embarked on at the time she imparted her wisdom and over the many decades since her words have proven to be true.
The study of other languages led to an understanding of other cultures, ways of thinking and experiencing life. A grasp of history was enriched by analysing its context, influences and outcomes. Reading literary fiction was an insight into human nature, the moral complexity that surrounds our choices, responses, strengths, weaknesses, and desires and the dawning of empathy and compassion for the human condition. Studying the great philosophers lead to questions about the foundations of that moral complexity. An introduction to political science made for a better understanding of what I read and watched in the media and experienced in the wider world of work and relationships. And so on. Having the tools for grasping multiple perspectives on the times I’ve lived through has enriched the experience.
For studying the humanities turned out not to be about learning for learning’s sake but to better understand the world around me and ultimately with time and experience to develop some useful skills for dealing with it. In other words, a humanities education taught me how to think and thinking, questioning and contemplating are ways of never being bored in your own company because life provides so much to think about.
Never was this more true than in the time of Covid. And never was the grounding and expanded view of the world provided by a lifelong immersion in the humanities more relevant. Rather than being bored, isolated, feeling the weight of time on your hands and falling into depression and anxiety one has the capacity to at least expand upon existing interests in art, music, literature, languages, the world of ideas, writing or whatever. At best some insight into the times and human condition can provide a degree of hope for the future. Maybe those whose interests are confined to social connections and social media, of reaping and spending for example, are more likely to struggle during long periods of isolation and uncertainty.
Of course, one doesn’t need an education in the humanities to reap the benefits. Many aficionados come to them driven by inclination, curiosity or circumstance and in the wider world story telling is often the gateway. Stories capture our imagination, provide context and background, example and anecdote so we can make sense of our own stories and of life in general. We’ve expressed ourselves in stories through the ages told in word, art, film, song, and dance - even gossip. Many of the better, ground breaking examples of the performative kind have become canons of the humanities.
Being storytellers we thrive on the stories of others. Stories help us interpret the world. At their best they are also entertaining, stimulating and a diversion from the everyday sameness of lockdown. And so to Netflix and its equivalents. Whatever gets you through.
Jan McGuiness is a University of Melbourne Arts graduate (English and Politics), and the Vice-President of Humanities 21. She is a published author and journalist with more than 30 years’ experience, including producing and initiating ABC TV arts programming as the Commissioner for Arts and Entertainment. Jan is a former board member of Artists and Industry, the Australian Art Orchestra and the Melbourne Writers Festival, where she served as Chair from 2004-2010.
Image: Mollie Sivaram
How the arts are allies in helping us weather these hard times
by Hamish Adams
Wherever you are in the world, no doubt your normal patterns of life have been disturbed by the coronavirus. Here in Melbourne we find ourselves in a position of déjà-vu, under a lockdown regime uncannily similar to the one we were enduring this time last year. As spring comes on it’s a deeply disappointing situation to be in.
Geared as we are towards connection and movement, it strikes me how deeply challenging the pandemic has been for us humans. We've been forced to be less socially engaged, more sedentary, and surely less positive than we were in pre-COVID times. Old joys like chatting with friends in a local pub, letting our hair down at a concert, or seeking out new horizons on a ramble through the countryside have been made impossible. The sense of loss for these simple pleasures can leave us sore or numb, even more so when there’s no well-defined end to this situation.
Yet if I'm to pinpoint one advantage of the coronavirus era – and trust me, it takes a bit of searching - it's that many of us have likely become more connected to the arts as a result of this crisis. It's been reported that reading books has become more popular, no doubt more TV series and movies have been burned through than ever before, and some people have taken this opportunity to tune in to their own creative impulses.
I've found that during these lockdowns, my interest in the arts has surged - you might even call it my dependence on the arts. I've made use of many novels, movies and documentaries to help me stay afloat. Music has helped buoy my mood, and even the more beautiful aspects of urban design and architecture have become notable sources of wellbeing for city-dwellers like me. I believe we’ve seen the ‘utility’ of the arts in an unprecedented way during this period; the coronavirus crisis has proven that arts, culture and creativity are all-important in helping us find meaning and to feel human in radically unusual times.
In a way, the coronavirus lockdowns have come at a favourable time in human history. The internet grants us a connection to a huge span of creativity, where we can easily access the classics in print or film, stream lifetimes’ worth of music and gawk at great artworks in the highest resolution. More than this, many people have taken up the mantle of being creators themselves, utilising technology to share their arts far and wide.
I wonder if we will emerge from the pandemic with an added appreciation for the value that the arts impart to our lives. Perhaps our connection with creativity has become more significant and we'll be more willing to support artists, to honour artists, even to become artists in the future.
The old saying from Cicero, 'If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need', will always sound unrealistic. But I'd suggest that if our library is stocked with enough art – better yet, if we have access to all the creativity that’s shareable via the internet – then we are much better equipped to weather hard times like these. Now, more than ever, let’s be grateful for the arts.
Hamish Adams is a final year Bachelor of Science and Diploma in Languages student at the University of Melbourne and an intern with Humanities 21.