You told me if I loved literature, I shouldn’t go to grad school,” wrote a former student. The biochemistry-turned-English major, who went on to medical school and is now a thoracic oncologist, was thanking me for a conversation we had over fifteen years ago, which I had entirely forgotten. “I’m grateful,” she added, “that literature can remain a personal love rather than an obligation.”
When I received this note recently, I was relieved to find out that a talented student had been spared five to ten years in academic servitude, with job prospects ranging from infinitesimal to none. I was also reminded of a simple truth too often ignored in all the soul-searching about the fate of the humanities in a time of budget cuts, declining enrollments, and AI. There’s no easy solution to the crisis, but there is something we can do about it. Instead of perpetuating our narrow interests, faculty should focus on inspiring students to read and write, regardless of what they end up doing for work.