But it’s impossible to put a dollar value on a nimble, adaptable intellect, which isn’t the fruit of any specific course of study and may be the best tool for an economy and a job market that change unpredictably.
And it’s dangerous to forget that in a democracy, college isn’t just about making better engineers but about making better citizens, ones whose eyes have been opened to the sweep of history and the spectrum of civilizations.
Here's the whole article:
What’s
the most transformative educational experience you’ve had?
I was
asked this question recently, and for a few seconds it stumped me, mainly
because I’ve never viewed learning as a collection of eureka moments. It’s a
continuum, a lifelong awakening to the complexity of the world.
But
then something did come to mind, not a discrete lesson but a moving image,
complete with soundtrack. I saw a woman named Anne Hall swooning and swaying as
she stood at the front of a classroom in Chapel Hill, N.C., and explained the
rawness and majesty of emotion in “King Lear.”
I heard
three words: “Stay a little.” They’re Lear’s plea to Cordelia, the truest of
his three daughters, as she slips away. When Hall recited them aloud, it wasn’t
just her voice that trembled. It was all of her.
She
taught a course on Shakespeare’s tragedies: “Lear,” “Macbeth,” “Othello.” It
was by far my favorite class at the University of North Carolina, which I
attended in the mid-1980s, though I couldn’t and can’t think of any bluntly
practical application for it, not unless you’re bound for a career on the stage
or in academia.



