After two decades of studying the history of pedagogy, from modern times back to antiquity, I arrived at a startling discovery about our education system. We do not read the greatest words ever written and spoken. In losing these words, the history and stories of our wise, courageous, and saintly ancestors, we lose what their thoughts and deeds represent. We lose our ideals and vision, thereby upending what St. Augustine calls the ordo amoris (the order of loves). With this understanding, it is clear to see how the current devastation wrought on faith, family, community, and education are inextricably related.
Yet, no matter how daunting and dystopian the situation seems, countless others have come to the same conclusions—and there is a great restoration underway. Through those decades of study, I also came to see that we cannot wait for the government and schools to fix what is wrong. So, what can we do?
We, each one of us in our homes, can be heroes and heroines of the hearth, taking the lead in our children’s education and formation, even if they attend outside school. It is as easy to start as this one sentence:
Find as much time as we can—even just 15-30 minutes per day—to eschew all devices and read aloud from the greatest works of Western Civilization together as a family.
To demonstrate how easy and fascinating it can be, I offer an example of a few-minute journey through almost 2,000 years of heroism and a brief introduction to women we would wish our children to emulate, including: St. Marcella of Ancient Rome (c. 382-410 AD); Bettisia Gozzadini (1209-1261)—a doctor of civil and canon law, thought to be the first woman to teach in a university—and St. Joan of Arc (1412-1431) of The Great Thousand Years (usually referred to with the deprecatory terms “Middle” or “Dark Ages”); and finally to the modern era with an anonymous mother in WWI, a heroine of faith, mercy, and everyday life, who forgave and embraced the young man who killed her son in battle.
A Heroine of Roman Monasticism
St. Marcella’s work is as important and inspiring today as it was 1,700 years ago. Author Amelia Gere Mason wrote of St. Marcella in 1901: “This fine type of womanhood, in which reason is tempered with love and imagination, inevitably turns to faith for support in seasons of moral decadence as in moments of sorrow and despair.” Departing from the ease, wealth, and power that she enjoyed in Roman nobility, she led her friends into a life of worship and sacrifice.
Heroines of the Great Thousand Years
Bettisia Gozzadini was a scholar who “wrote Greek with a singular clarity at age 10,” and later delivered a funeral oration in Latin, years before earning her position as a doctor of civil and canon law at the University of Bologna at age 27. In our era that rushes to claim value simply by using the title of “the first,” we find another example in Gozzadini of women who have always held positions of power and leadership—positions earned through talent, assiduity, and faith.
Though her name is familiar, St. Joan of Arc represents a saintly heroine whose story we can forever return to for fresh inspiration. In 1888, E. S. Brooks wrote of St. Joan of Arc: “the character of Joan of Arc is unique. It can be measured by the standard of all times without misgivings or apprehension as to the result. Judged by any of them, judged by all of them, it is still flawless . . . it still occupies the loftiest place possible to human attainment.”
A Heroine of Modernity
And finally, from a saint known to all the world, we conclude with the true story of a woman known only as “Deine Mutter” (Your Mother). She was a mother whose story was recorded through the reports of an American woman who was one of the few foreigners permitted to visit prison camps in Germany during WWI. The American reporter wrote that the woman received a letter from a grief-stricken young British soldier begging forgiveness for having killed her son. In response to the letter, the German mother wrote: “Dear Lad, There is nothing to forgive. I see you as you are—your troubled goodness. I feel you coming to me like a little boy astounded at having done ill when you meant well. You seem my son. I am glad your hands cared for my other boy . . . Help me, my son. I need you. When this war is over, come to me.” She signed the letter, “Deine Mutter.”
The rich treasure of those stories and countless others has been lost, but it is a treasure we can easily claim. When we read such stories, we grow in courage to withdraw, as St. Marcella of Rome did, from a decadent lifestyle, discovering strength through peers also striving to live a holy life. We are inspired to strive in education, as Gozzadini did, and soar the heavens of fine and beautiful reading, writing, oratory, and teaching. Just as the martyr St. Joan of Arc, Deine Mutter’s son did not die in vain, for his mother’s faith, her redemptive suffering, and forgiveness call all witnesses of their stories to deepen their faith.
Reading stories of great heroines is just one idea of many to try, starting right now. Gather with your family tonight, take any great book from the shelf (the Bible, a Catechism, Shakespeare, etc.), and take turns reading aloud together. That seemingly insignificant act, repeated over months and years, is how we—one by one—reclaim family life, community, and fine, formative education. Best of all, far from being burdensome, it will become the highlight of the day, and with repetition, the making of joyful, multi-generational memories.
Image from Wikimedia Commons
