Trying to sum up my experience at Georgetown in a few hundred words is either an exercise in impracticality or omission – I can’t decide which. Virtually every draft I had started on my way to this final draft included stories too lewd or, contrarily, too trite to be worthwhile. Rather than regale you with tales of spring breaks gone weird, bore you by lamenting the loss of our youth or feign confidence in, or optimism for, the future, I’m just going to tell you about my favorite Georgetown class.
I was raised Catholic, so when I sat down for my first Problem of God class I was curious: Was God a big problem? Was he shooting spitballs from the back of class and tripping old ladies on their way home from the grocery store? Did he have some divinely complicated Rubik’s Cube he couldn’t set right, or was he just having trouble with his homework? I did my best to misunderstand the name of the class in every way I could. I was convinced I would be sitting through didactic lecture after didactic lecture about the value of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit three times a week.
Luckily, that was not the case. On the first day, a sprite of a woman, our professor, bolted into the room and immediately began bouncing around, asking us what we would like to be when we grew up. When she found the front of the room she set down her things, turned to the class and said in a high clear voice, “When I grow up I would like to be a theology professor.” It was my first encounter with professor Elizabeth McKeown, but it would not be my last.
From that first lecture, the contents of which I cannot accurately recall, I was a McKeown devotee. I listened to every lecture with rapt attention and thought about the questions she posed while I was in the shower, at the gym and eating Leo’s Sunday brunch. Her charisma was intoxicating, but her wit was sharp enough to be sobering. She’d refer to herself as everything from a post-contact Irish Druid to a grandma, and she’d make us explain things like the cosmological argument to her as if she were three years old. But for all the things she taught me and all the questions she asked, there was one thing I couldn’t shake: What do you want to be when you grow up?
What did I want to be when I grew up? I liked the West Wing, so should I go into politics? My dad is a lawyer. Should I go into law? As a freshman I was under the impression that leading an ascetic lifestyle would help me save the world (my family jokes that I wanted to live in a cardboard box) but I’ve since grown out of that hippie mindset. Now I think going into business would allow me to better my local and global community. So, I want to be a young professional? This summer I’m leaving the United States to work in the Office of Student Affairs at Georgetown’s School of Foreign Service campus in Doha, Qatar. So, when I grow up I want to be a student affairs officer? For right now, that’s correct.
The above paragraph might sound like a stream of consciousness, but it’s reflective of what I learned from McKeown and her big question. I’ll always be growing up. When I’m 25, 35, 45, 65 and 80, I’ll be growing up and I’ll always have a chance to do something else I’m interested in. I have Georgetown to thank for giving me the opportunity and ability to do whatever I want, and McKeown to thank for making me aware of those gifts. Going forward I hope that all my fellow graduates of the class of 2010, the incredible and inspiring people I’ve been lucky enough to spend the last four years with, will follow their interests and passions to the fullest. I hope we always ask the next question, and I hope that question is frequently: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Patrick Lenihan is a senior in the College, A New Student Orientation coordinator, a member of The Corp’s board of directors and a site coordinator for D.C. Reads.
