Working with children for the past 11 or so years, I have heard my share of “that’s not fair!”. And, in a “teachable moment” retort, I’ve said, “Life isn’t fair all the time” without giving much, if any, thought to the weight that statement carries.

Life isn’t fair. And I only hate that life isn’t fair when it doesn’t go the way I want. I’m in favor of life being unfair when the odds swing in my favor. When I get to benefit from its sordid unfairness. Or when its unfairness affects me not at all. Even as I write this, I’m not writing about unfairness at a macro level, but at the micro level.

Yesterday, I wept over the state of the university I attended. I transferred there as a sophomore, and went on to complete undergrad and grad degrees there. At the time, the little bubble was all I knew and it was comfortable. I appreciate the friendships I made there and how I came to be a free thinker (even more than before, I suppose). There were professors there whom I adored, who pushed me to do my best, and called me on the carpet when I gave less than my best. One particularly frustrating moment, that now I’ve come to appreciate, happened in graduate school with a professor I greatly respect and admire. I turned in an assignment that I was kind of OK with. It could’ve been much better, but it could’ve been much worse, and I had 0.5 minutes to spare before the deadline, so I turned it in. As per usual. When the grades were handed out in class a few days later, the professor asked me to stay after and meet with them. I said, “Thanks, but I’ll pass” which obviously did not work in my favor, and nor was it wise.

During the course of our discussion, they said, “You write better than this. You know you do. I know you do. You need to step it up. I graded you harder because I know you can do so much better”.  So not fair.  My defensive walls flew up. I was graded harder? What happened to objective grading? . . .it died. After high school and standardized tests. Being the defensive, angry, and most likely obnoxious 22 year old that I was, I missed the point.

But then, they said something I still remember, and if you know me at all, you know what a feat that is. They said, “You can’t rely on being funny when things get hard or uncomfortable. You have to do the work.”

I can think of exactly 3 professors who impacted my life during my tenure at school. I had good professors, no doubt, but 3 stand out. That is what I remember and love about my university. I have zero school spirit, except for the baseball team. I was in one organization. And I pretty much kept to myself and my small circle of friends. I was, mercifully, ignorant of the politics that are so pervasive in any institution. But, there were people there whose impact on my life far outlives my time at school.

Now, 4 years after grad school graduation, I mourn for the state of the university I cared so little about, but care so deeply for because of the people it brought to my path.  The issues that I perceive, admittedly from a singular perspective, are not unique to my university. They are indicative of a much larger problem on a much larger scale — all across the globe.

Pride.

My heart aches not because it exists, but because no one is immune. Standing in a place of hurt, naming it for what it is only makes it more evident in me and causes me to mourn even more.

“There is one vice of which no man in the world is free; which every one in the world loathes when he sees it in someone else; and of which hardly any people, except Christians, ever imagine that they are guilty themselves. […] There is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which we are more unconscious of in ourselves.[…]The vice I am talking of is Pride or Self-Conceit: and the virtue opposite to it, in Christian morals, is called Humility.” — C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

Peace be the journey.