graduate assistant

One of the coolest jobs i ever held was graduate assistant. In my mid-twenties, i got a master's degree in philosophy from West Chester U. of PA. It took me three semesters, and i was the department's grad assistant for the last two. The department had only one assistant, and it was only part-time at that, but it was a nice boon in reducing my tuition. The fact that there was only one, also made it a nice match for my personality.
My two semesters covered a transition between department heads, and i felt honored to be the only assistant who ever worked for both Dr. Claghorn and Dr. Platt. Ostensibly i assisted the entire faculty, but it was the department head who had use of my services almost exclusively. George Claghorn, who specialized in early American philosophy, was a gentle soul who had been the heart of the department for decades. He seemed a relic from a more courteous time. He sprinkled touches of humor into his serious-mindedness, and his soft laughter was a joy. During my semester with him, most of my duties consisted of researching 19th century Boston newspapers, collecting references for a book he was writing.
Thomas Platt, an Episcopalian minister who specialized in ethics, had a wry sense of humor very much in line with my own. He had been one of my favorite undergrad professors, and had even loaned me one of his clerical outfits for a production of "The Importance of Being Earnest". The semester i spent with him provided more exciting duties. I tutored undergrads, and covered classes for professors who were absent. There was also some clerical work, which was fun because i thought the world of Dr. Platt's secretary, Gerri. That final semester i also revived the long-dormant philosophy club, the only organization of which i've ever been president. We met weekly, and i was able to bring together a core group of about ten regulars. We also had regular newcomers, in part because of my posters. I would advertise the week's activity, making full use of my aforementioned humor. It was very gratifying knowing that the club became strong and vibrant, and continued after i left.
My courses were pretty wonderful. Debating and wrestling with deep issues came very naturally to me. Strangely though, my elective courses in psychology ended up being more exciting, as they dealt with more concrete realities.
One of the most memorable moments came one afternoon while lounging on the quad, a grassy area at the center of campus where students played and relaxed. I was with five or six philosophy M.A. students. We had been volleyballing or frisbeeing. We had all known each other for at least a semester, and were among the brightest in our department. Despite our familiarity, we didn't know each other inside and out, and part of that came from how we approached our studies. We focused on questions more than answers, and didn't demand that everyone take a stand on every issue. So very often, each other's core attitudes were unknown. And too, in a program which lasts only three semesters, deep friendships are more rare. There's a smaller pool of students, and from that pool, the odds are long that the even smaller handful you could really connect with, will be there at the exact same time as you. So you might have only one or two semesters with those few you might develop a close friendship with.
Anyway, the group of us on the quad enjoyed each other's company, and on that day, a moment of unforgettable resonance occurred. A pair of evangelical students came up to us, and began witnessing. After a minute or two, one of them asked a direct question: did we believe in God? We had a moment's hesitation, in which we exchanged the briefest of glances. None of us knew the rest of the group's answers to that question, and the thought of alienating each other a tiny bit probably played through most of our minds.
I doubt anyone expected what happened next.
One of us answered "no".
Another voice said the same.
Then another.
One by one, we all answered "no".
It was a moment of affirmation and beauty. We knew that we represented some of the best minds from the communities that had molded us. And in a moment of synchronicity, we knew that we had each figured something out, in spite of the cultural influences most of us had grown up with. The evangelical students had perhaps chosen that question because in any group of more than two, it was a question almost guaranteed to provide at least one ally.
But they quickly realized they had asked the wrong question, as several of us began dismantling any proposition they offered up. They soon accepted the obvious, and beat a retreat.
In retrospect, it was the tiniest bit unfair, like picking on younger siblings. They were of good intent, but middling intelligence.
As they left, we looked at one another...and i think there was a tiny element of redemption for most of us, in what had taken place. Religious folk are almost by definition sanctimonious, a fact that is frustrating for those who take a more humble approach to life and knowledge. Religious folk even delude themselves into believing that their approach to life is rooted in humility, but to claim knowledge of "God" requires an arrogance of stunning proportions. And the fact that our group had discussed god in great depth, yet remained ignorant of each others' beliefs...it was simply a very profound moment of synchronicity.
A moment to feel that, despite the barbaric ignorance and superstition all around us, the world of tomorrow will indeed shine with brother and sisterhood, and truth.