When I was growing up, the Random House Unabridged Dictionary held the place of honor in our home. Lying resplendent on a huge dictionary stand, it invited a curious child to spend hours poring over exotic new words and exclaiming over the origin of familiar words. Even many decades later, it is a treat to cap off a pleasant evening by perusing my dictionary to contemplate words and their etymology.
Thus is was that, several years ago, I learned that "parson" — that lovely and rather antiquated term for a Protestant minister — derived from the Middle English persone for "person." Intrigued, I did a little digging. Not surprisingly, some explanations for why a minister / priest / vicar / curate / rector (choose your favorite term) would be referred to as a "person" were lengthy, theological, and dull. But I stumbled across one article that resonated with me. The parson's calling, this interpretation suggested, was indeed to just be — a person. In a society where people were defined by pedigree, social rank, and how they made a living, the parson's role was to be a person to everyone in the parish, high or low, rich or poor. Performing rites like baptism, weddings, and funerals was really just a way of being a person in relationship with others — welcoming the birth of a child, celebrating the ties of love and family, and mourning with the bereaved. The hallmarks of a parson, this article concluded, were listening much, grounding advice in the individual's particular circumstances, and always treating others as individuals worthy of respect.
I long ago lost this article about the parson as a professional "person," but it influenced and still guides the way I approach the profession of academic support. I believe our highest and best calling as ASPers is to be a "parson" — that is, to give primary emphasis to being a person in relationship to our students. As ASPers, we have the training, education, and experience to help our students succeed. But as Steven Foster pointed out last week, we can share our expertise best if we establish a relationship with our students first.
Moreover, we are often most effective when, by deep listening, we give students leave to follow their own best instincts rather than trudging along doing what they have convinced themselves they "should" do. I think, for example, of the times struggling students have confided they are having trouble concentrating because a loved one is dying several hundred miles away. Sometimes the best response is, "Don't you want to go home to be with your family? I can help arrange things with your professors." Given permission to honor their responsibilities as human beings, when they return to school they are then ready to concentrate and learn.
Listening much, grounding advice in the individual's particular circumstances, and always treating others as individuals worthy of respect are the hallmarks of an academic support professional — the "parson" of the law school. (Nancy Luebbert)
