The liberal arts teach students how to think critically about the present and the past, so they can more vividly imagine the future.
That’s the message inherent in the essays written by the two winners of the 2020 annual student essay competition, sponsored by the UW-Madison undergraduate education committee. For winner Isabella V. Prenger, a first-year student from Sharspburg, Maryland majoring in history and honors in the liberal arts, that means imagining herself as an interpretive park ranger at Antietam Battlefield Park and ruminating on how her history classes led her there.
Runner-up Penda Smith, a graduating senior from New York who was both a FirstWave and a McNair Scholar, delivers a message to a younger version of herself, discouraged by some initial setbacks on the path to graduate school. Both essays offer a thoughtful and insightful view of the liberal arts scholar’s journey.
The essays are excerpted below.
The Ranger and the Battlefield: A Love Story
By Isabella V. Prenger
The glory of a liberal arts education is that students are exposed to a variety of topics, and are encouraged to explore what interests them, both rewarding their curiosity and making them into well-rounded scholars and citizens. In 2020 at UW-Madison, I’m a History major, but through the curriculum available to me, I’m able to explore topics as diverse as Russian and Political Science all while still positively contributing to my main interest. These classes have formed me into both a student of history and a more knowledgeable and receptive citizen, ready to learn what I do not know and teach what I do. Taking a FIG provided me with a welcoming environment of like-minded students, one conducive to sharing, forming, and debating stances on a wide range of topics.
These classes, as well as my interactions with my classmates, have given me confidence. As an interpretive ranger, I interact with all manner of people, and the ability to comport myself and be confident will be crucial in my success in the field. This confidence empowers me to do what’s right. Before Antietam, the Battle of South Mountain took thousands of lives, setting the scene for the bloodshed that would occur later in Lee’s invasion of Maryland. The fighting spread over
three different passes on South Mountain—Turner’s, Crampton’s, and Fox’s Gap. Recently, however, Fox’s Gap has come under threat of commercial development, with signs announcing the construction of townhouses and parking lots on the historic land. Through foundations like the American Battlefield Trust, I campaign to help save land like Fox’s Gap, preserving history for our future generations. The importance of environmental preservation has dominated discussion of the future, but equally important is the preservation of the history contained within the environment. Abraham Lincoln urged posterity to “adhere to your purpose,” and mine is to defend the past. My liberal arts education equips me to defend that land and our collective American heritage.
Interpretive park rangers are also liberal arts educators. The seminal essay “Interpreting Our Heritage” by Freeman Tilden states that “the chief aim of interpretation is not instruction, but provocation.” It isn’t my job to make sure that every visitor to Antietam understands each detail of the campaign. It is my job to provoke interest, to encourage people to explore the aspects of the history they find the most interesting, and to help them connect with their nation’s past. Are they drawn to Burnside's Bridge? Let them experience it for themselves, and then provide the interested with further resources. Are they curious about the relation of the town to the battle? Point them to the historical society in Sharpsburg's town hall.
Open Letter to the Past Self: Journey to the Better You
By Penda Smith
Dear Younger Penda,
You have just received your fifth rejection letter from a graduate program in creative writing, and there exists no metaphor that can honor your grief, shame, and disappointment. The truth is that, 10 years ago, you sat in a coffee shop at 7:38 p.m. drinking a Grande caramel latte with too many espresso shots. It is unfortunate because, that day, the sun beamed so bright, you almost forgot how cold and dark a Wisconsin winter could be.
You are a New York native by birth, and you come from a Senegalese family by blood which means you are resilient beyond your own imagination, but even a longstanding tree can be too tired to stand. The moment you leaned into vulnerability, embraced your feelings without guilt, was a radical act of self-care your feminist hero Audre Lorde spoke of. It was made possible through transformative courses and experiences at UW-Madison like SEED (Seeking Educational Equity and Diversity course), First Wave, and UpRise Poetry Collective. Your liberal arts education went well beyond traditional academia pedagogy and taught you how to navigate identity, dejection, and most importantly, taught you about how service to your community can recharge the soul. Today, 10 years later, our UW-Madison experiences have helped us face obstacles larger than not getting into graduate school including how to live other than to just survive.
You were a first-generation Senegalese Black woman, a McNair scholar and First Wave scholar at a predominantly white institution who chose to major in neurobiology. You did this while working full-time, creating the student organization UpRise Poetry Collective, and pursuing Black infant mortality research. The plan was so simple because you thought you knew exactly what you wanted to do: study poetry and choose a science major that satisfies prerequisites in preparation for medical school. You are a Gemini rising with a Pisces moon, which means you are not a woman that will choose between her passions. Instead, you integrated them to forge your own path, a lesson undoubtedly garnered from classes like SEED. Frequently your mother would side eye you and ask if you really know what you are doing. You tell her to believe in you, and she tells you, “I am getting too old. You are the eldest child, and it is time for you to get a job so you can support the family.” How do you even tell her about your luck with graduate school?
Well, you don’t. You ignore her and you wallow in your sadness that rejection warrants. But you once heard somewhere that Beyoncé only gives herself one day to be sad, and who are you to give yourself any less?
I thank you for treating me kindly that day. For allowing your body to sit in grief, to feel the extension of human emotion, to take personal space, and to speak kind words to yourself through it all. UW-Madison certainly tested your strength, but it was classes like SEED that equipped you with the tools to survive moments like this. In that class, you engaged with cultural texts that discussed self-care, identity politics, and systemic oppression marginalized communities face.