A Homogeneous Diversity

It’s college application time in our household. Multiple forms have been filled out and mailed in. And now form letters are beginning to roll in. How’s that for ending two consecutive sentences with prepositions? Will there be more? Stay tuned—or, better yet, stay with.

One such form letter arrived the other day from Marquette University. It “welcomed” our son to the incoming class of 2005. “Whew,” I suppose, might have been our reasonable response. He’s in. (There I go again.)

Then I read on (oops), and as I did, the “whew” became a “huh.” And that “huh” had nothing to do with encountering any dollar figure for tuition. That’s another story—and another “whew.” It seems that the folks in the admissions office have decided that our seventeen year old is the “type of person who will truly enhance the Marquette community.” Oh he will, will he? And to think I thought that they might have thought that he might be enhanced by the Marquette experience. To be sure, he’s enhanced our lives in all sorts of ways. Then again, he’s done a few other things besides all of that.

The Marquette experience? No, the letter did not trot out that tired phrase. But it did trot out something else, namely that tired old warhorse of a word: “diverse.” Is there a college in this incredibly diverse country that does not claim to be diverse and/or celebrate its diversity? In fact, is there a college mission statement anywhere in this land in which THAT WORD does not appear?

Funny, isn’t it? In the name of diversity we’re well on our way to winding up with colleges and universities that are all essentially the same. Maybe we’re already perilously close to being there. We’re certainly a whole lot closer than any one (especially college administrators) would care to admit.

It seems to me that in an incredibly diverse country there ought to be room for colleges and universities that are genuinely different from one another. After all, what’s wrong with a college that announces to the world—and tells its applicants—that it is, say, a conservative Christian institution? For that matter, what’s wrong with another college claiming—and being—a secular liberal institution? At the very least, what’s wrong with a private college simply stating that it is Catholic or Lutheran or Baptist or secular? Nothing so far as I can tell. But there is something very wrong if and when, and in the name of diversity, we end up with every college being in fact a secular liberal college.

Now of course Marquette claims to be more than diverse. The precise wording in its welcome to our son is that he has been admitted to a “diverse, Catholic, Jesuit university.” What exactly does that string of adjectives mean?

Perhaps it is a simple exercise in redundancy. If it is Catholic, it presumably is catholic and, therefore, universal; hence a universal university. And if it is universal, it is necessarily diverse. Moreover, if it is Jesuit, it is presumably Catholic—and vice versa.

On second thought, this little platoon of adjectives may not be redundant at all. If Marquette is truly diverse, in the modern sense of that over-worked term, it may not be Catholic at all—or at least not much at all. What percentage of the student body identifies itself as Catholic? What percentage are practicing Catholic—or cafeteria Catholics—or orthodox Catholics? It doesn’t say. What percentage of the faculty is Catholic of any stripe? It doesn’t say.

In a face-to-face session with Creighton University’s director of admissions, we learned months ago that its student body is approximately two-thirds Catholic (of any stripe). We also learned something else. Without any prompting, the director went on to say that the two-thirds figure struck him as about right. Furthermore, there would be cause for concern at Creighton if that percentage dropped below 55% or rose above 75%.

The first concern makes some sense; the latter, however, makes no sense—unless “diversity” means what I fear it means. So let’s examine these concerns a little more closely. If Creighton truly is a Catholic university, why is there some concern at 55% and none at 67%? On the other hand, if Creighton is a diverse university, why would it ever want a great preponderance (say, two thirds) of its students to be of the same religious faith?

Wait a minute! First it was Marquette. Now it’s Creighton. Is this some sort of bait and switch? Not really. Or have I been caught conflating the two? Possibly—and with some good reason. The two are Midwestern universities of comparable size, history, and “in the Jesuit tradition.” Having had no direct conversation with a Marquette admissions officer, I cannot refer to specific percentages, whether of fact or concern. My guess is that the Marquette numbers and concerns are probably quite similar to those of Creighton.

What can be added to the discussion are a few references to the Creighton letter of acceptance. Upon reading further into the body of the letter our “whew” gave way yet again to another “huh,” as well as to a cause of concern all our own. It seems that if our son chooses Omaha’s version of Jesuit diversity over what he might find in Milwaukee, he will be enrolling in a “top flight college.” Oh yes, it is also a college in the “tradition of Jesuit excellence.” So far, so good, I suppose. To be fair, this letter itself does not contain the word “diversity.” Nor, curiously, does it contain the world “Catholic.” The only Marquette adjectives that survives in the Creighton letter is “Jesuit.” This may actually be a bit of inadvertent truth in advertising, since the phrase “in the Jesuit tradition” often translates (so I’ve been told) to “we pay no attention to Rome.”

Diverse or no, Catholic or no, Creighton does promise to “develop students into successful and focused young adults.” During their undergraduate years they will acquire a “love of learning . . . and a level of self-confidence that ultimately allows them to enjoy their success.” Hmmmm. Success in the classroom breeds self-confidence, which in turn leads to enjoying, maybe even reveling in, that success. It all sounds to wonderfully, so cozily, American.

What all this has to be with developing and/or strengthening young Catholic Americans remains an open question. And how and where Creighton thinks young Catholic Americans fit into a diverse America remains another open question. But at least Creighton doesn’t feel that it will be enhanced by our son’s presence there. Instead, Creighton will apparently be doing the enhancing, as it goes about its business of producing its self-confidently successful—or is that successfully self-confident—graduates.

Now back to Marquette. Actually, it appears that this Jesuit university is also in the enhancement business. After their opening bow toward our marvelous son they do get around to spelling out just what they propose to do for him (as opposed to what he will do for Marquette). It seems that he will “learn how to think and to make good decisions.” So far, so good, I suppose. He will also be challenged with “different ways of looking at the world.” What else might one expect to encounter at a diverse university?

It gets better—or worse. Our son is informed that he will also be given “abundant opportunities to transform yourself, and to become the person you have always wanted to become.” And to think we thought he was being admitted because he already was a well-enhanced person.

Wow! How to choose? But really now, is there a choice? It, too, sounds so wonderfully, so cozily, American. And no doubt once our son has been transformed, he will be self-confident and successful. Or vice versa. And to think I could have instead written “the other way around.”

Around? Who knows, our son may even learn how not to end sentences with prepositions. But will he learn anything at either school about the Catholic proposition? It seems that that kind of diversity is less and less likely to be found at institutions that were once self-confidently Catholic.

Once upon a time and not so long ago Marquette and Creighton were just that. And when they were just that America was a more diverse country (in part because of that). Huh? Yes, you read that right. Today’s colleges may preen over their diversity, they may take pride in their diversity, but one wonders if they really practice it. And certainly they don’t practice it as it was once practiced.

For once upon a time the Marquettes and Creightons of American higher education were beacons of diversity, simply because they knew who they were and what they were about. This was nothing to preen over or take pride in. Maybe this was because they were more concerned with producing graduates who knew more about propositions than prepositions—and were they fit in American life.