Right On

Dr. Scanlon's lecture on "Rights of Passage" had several interesting elements. He explained that "rites of passage" occur at certain events in human stories. The obvious ones, of course, are birth, death, and marriage. However, Dr. Scanlon was talking about two other transitions, the ones on either side of the college experience. He talked about the mingled excitement and fear of both the college freshman and his or her parents. He also mentioned the all-important college-to-workplace transition. He referenced Arnold Van Gannep, who believed that "rites of passage" were characterized by three phases: separation, transition, and reincorporation.

Since he was using a play on words as a starting point (“rights” verse “rites”), Dr. Scanlon gave some of the etymology of the word, “right.” He explained that in times of war, leaders surrendered by shaking right hands so that neither could reach for a weapon. He also explained the hitherto mysterious practice of putting the buttons of women's blouses on the left side—apparently this was to show that a woman was wealthy enough to have other people dress her. Even biology has examples of right-hand dominance. The right brain is know for music, creativity, and putting its left-side counterpart down. This technical information was interesting, but it also made me think. As a natural right-hander, I have never really considered the implications of right versus left. There are many things, though, that are so thoroughly ingrained in our culture that we do not even think to question them. Right-handedness happens to be one of them, and I wonder whether there is any real significance behind the practice (think about which hand we take the sacrament with) or whether it is a philosophy of men that has been around so long that we just assume there is some “right” behind it.

Upon reflection, I am very glad that I chose to take this lecture class during my second, and not my first, semester of college. I think that I am far enough away from that initial “cutting away” to be able to look at it a little more objectively. I can look back on the initial “separation” now, and the emotions surrounding it make a little more sense. My parents' mixed and occasionally confusing responses, my own almost paralyzing excitement, apprehension, and assurance, as well as the satisfied well-wishing of family friends seem appropriate in the context of a “rite of passage.” Going to college is both a literal separation and a symbolic farewell to childhood. I always like to think of the line from “Little Women,” where Jo says that she “stepped over the divide between childhood and all that lies beyond.” This divide is significant, but it does not change the things that matter the most, or “the reason we are all here.”