By Frances George

What follows is a tangible example of why we chose Baylor. There are stars among our students every day, though we as parents, may never see them. They are illuminating our students’ lives and minds and hearts day in and day out. And once the sun sets on our students’ time at Baylor, these stars’ influence will shine brightly. And you will be grateful for this place called Baylor…

Baylor Homecoming weekend was just a month ago, and you might have been expecting a blog about that happy event from me as Homecoming at Baylor is one of the highlights of the entire year on campus and this year was particularly special for our family. But what transpired this week on campus while I was 1,200 miles away in North Carolina, is the reason we have a Homecoming at Baylor to celebrate.

I, like probably many of you, have become jaded and/or deeply concerned in recent years by what transpires in the hearts and minds of many students across the country in a typical, top academic tier university classroom over the course of four years. The words “subtle (and not so subtle) indoctrination” come to mind. We read on almost a daily basis how many students walk away from their faith in college. We see pictures on social media and in the news, ad nauseam, of protests on campus and sit-ins, common at university administrators’ offices. We hear of rude and untoward behavior toward guests of the university when non politically correct speakers are invited on campus. (Even as I write this, I am so grateful for Baylor, a place so “other”.)

These behaviors and paradigm shifts among students take place on so many campuses and the genesis of this worldview shift begins in the classroom. Professors wield enormous power over students during critically formative years. You may wonder, is there a university anywhere unlike that which I just described? Even our thinking can become clouded with the constant barrage of negative images.

And so, when you receive a text from your student late in the semester, immediately following a class and the text reads:
“Wow. History class was, um, one for the books,” you might find yourself wondering, as I did, with a little trepidation… “Oh my! This is Baylor! What happened in the classroom, a history classroom, no less?” As a history major, my heart was conjuring up images of the aforementioned fears. Thus my immediate (yet calm and measured) response to my daughter was, “How so?’
What I received next brought tears to my eyes (and it was a bit of a “shame on me for thinking that” moment!) and reminded me again that this place called Baylor is unique. This is what Catherine wrote…
“It was about WW2. Our professor showed us a picture of his grandfather reading to him as a little boy. His grandfather was the only one of ten siblings to survive the Holocaust. Then we watched a video of college students last year (not on Baylor’s campus) protesting against Jews on their campus. And then we watched a documentary on the Holocaust. I understood Hitler in a way I had never understood. How could this have happened? What kind of a person can do that? I have so much sympathy for my professor and his family. Part of me wants to go to Europe now and see a concentration camp. This is real. Kate and I almost cried a couple of times during class. Oh Mom.”

I read that and put my phone down and once again thanked God for this place called Baylor.

It would have been easy (and immensely fun) to have written about Homecoming, that happy annual event of remembrance and celebration. But writing about this “50 minute moment” in my daughter’s life, a moment that no one will see on social media, reflects the heart of soul of why we all want to come to Homecoming at Baylor. At the end of the day, we want to remember well. We want our students to learn how to remember well. This history class is a microcosm of what takes place throughout Baylor’s campus every day, not only in the classroom, but on the field of play, among students involved in campus ministry and even as they walk from class to class with friends.

History came and sat next to my daughter this week and in that moment history reached not only her mind but her heart. “Remember well, Catherine.” My daughter grew up a little more this week and the result is an increasingly wise young woman with a sense of who she is and what she wants to become because of this place called Baylor.

One could say this is just one professor, in one section, of one history class, in one classroom, on one campus, unseen by millions in the world. However, I believe this professor is an example of one of Longfellow’s stars shining brightly at Baylor, though unseen my most, illuminating in my daughter’s heart and mind something deep and reverent… a renewed love of country and appreciation for those who sacrificed so much to secure freedom, a deeper compassion for those who hurt, and a renewed inspiration for making a difference with her life. One day, her light will shine and reflect the light she gained at Baylor in this class. And she will remember that Baylor’s light is simply a reflection of the Light that illumines all.

“Um…this class was one for the books.” No doubt. But what a book it will be.
Won’t you join us and begin your own book? Be inspired every day at this place called Baylor.

And that is, as I always say, “The Baylor Difference.”