John P. Fitzgibbons, S.J.

Some Reflections on Teaching in Lithuania

Fr. John Fitzgibbons, S.J. was in Siauliai, Lithuania as a part of Creighton's exchange program in Eastern Europe during fall of 1998.

These are some impressions of the people of Lithuania, the Country, and the institution called Siauliai University. As such, they are laced with emotional responses and perspectives or partial truths, so they have validity insofar as any one person's responses reflect truth. I loved the experience and would go back in an instant,

If there is such a thing as a national virtue, in Lithuania it is endurance. From the moment my plane from Berlin landed in Vilnius, it was clear that these were extraordinary people. Indeed, an inkling of that knowledge came while waiting in one of Berlin's airports. There were Lithuanian families making their way home. I knew their family language to be Lithuanian and they were turned inward, away from things German. They were going home and they possessed that tired but relieved look of those who know the next leg of the journey brings them home. My journey, barely twenty-four hours long, was just beginning.

My luggage and I separated in Chicago. I went from Chicago to Munich, to Berlin, and to Vilnius; it went to Frankfort, and then to Vilnius. The Customs officials at Vilnius Airport could not have been more helpful. There was little they could do but contact Lufthansa and Lithuanian Airlines to trace the progress of my luggage. We, the luggage and I, met up again after three days, in Siauliai.

The first day in Siauliai, Lithuania was quiet. Professor Milda Sinickiene, Vice-Dean of Humanities, met me at the train station with her husband. She was ill but made the trip anyway. This caliber of kindness and generosity marked my time at Šiauliai University. The scholar/teachers at ŠiauliaiUniversity went beyond the norms of colleagueship; they were generous to a remarkable degree. They made me comfortable in an unfamiliar teaching situation, in an unfamiliar city.

Such experiences make me grateful for small, simple acts of kindness. In addition, the foreign contingent of teachers and students at Siauliai University went out of their way to welcome me. Ingrid Brüdern teaches German at Siauliai, Kathy Callaway, a Fulbright Scholar from Minnesota, teaches creative writing and English; Gerard Leahy, a Creighton grad, teaches English conversation; and Virginie Plan teaches French language and literature. There was a sprinkle of others. These people are remarkably talented and generous. We formed a small, intimate group of teacher/scholars who processed our experiences over late evening dinners and scullery duties.

There was little time for comradery during the day but in the late afternoon and evening we often shopped for groceries and cooked and cleaned together. Often, we prayed the Catholic mass together. Though not all of us were Catholic; it seemed a most appropriate and needed part of our pattern. Ora et labora, work and prayer; St. Benedict named something for all Christians, I think.

I taught approximately seventy students. I say I "taught" but it was unlike any teaching I have done in my eight years of college teaching. In some ways I was over-prepared; in other ways, I was completely unprepared for the needs of the students. I had prepared about fifty pages of lectures on the "Greats", such as Emerson, Thoreau, Margaret Fuller, Hawthorne, Melville, and Harriet Beecher Stowe. I brought copies of all the books I was eager to share with the students. Little did I understand the needs of the students to whom I was sent.

When Lithuanian college students study English, they study philology and comparative linguistics; there is little input or concentration on the study of literary artifacts as a key to culture. So my approach in the lectures, largely stressing the parallel ideas between the portraiture and landscape painting of the American romantic era (1798-1860) was somewhat new.

These students are very talented. They all seem to know four languages: Lithuanian (of course), Russian, German, and English. Indeed, I am sure many of them know English grammar better than I do! Still, they were eager beyond my imagining to understand American culture through works of literary and fine art.

During one lecture when I showed thirty-five slides of American paintings and sculpture stretching from Neo-classicism through Romanticism to Realism, one could have heard a pin drop. The room was remarkably quiet for the ninety-minute lecture. About six faculty members came for the lecture as well. When, after nearly an hour of lecturing, I asked the students if they wanted a break, they resoundingly said "No!" I queried some faculty members afterward and they assured me that it is characteristic of the students to put up a brave front.

Culturally, it is impossible for the students to interrupt or challenge a professor in any obvious way. In addition, Professor Milda Sinickiene, the Vice-Dean who attended the lecture, stated that the students are ravenous for such input. They have never experienced the methods of interdisciplinary presentation before. In truth, Milda said the students found the paintings and sculpture very helpful in examining the themes of Romanticism in American literature.

These "texts", the slides, were by far the most effective means I had for getting across the themes of American democracy, individualism, race relations, and gender construction. The literary texts I had chosen were far too long and far too many, I was forced to put the books I had on reserve but assign only small portions or chapters for the students each class. In turn, they were forced to photocopy these chapters and share them. They have no money to speak of and books are extraordinarily expensive. Were I to go to Siauliai again, I would be far more judicious in my choice of texts and the number of pages I would require.

The students have a grim determination about them. As a group, they work harder and more diligently than any other group of students I have ever known. Yet, compared to American students, these students have nothing. The University is a microcosm of the whole country. The young are restless and eager, brilliant and full of energy, but thwarted because of the crumbling infrastructure. This infrastructure, both physical and attitudinal, seems to be the sad legacy of the Soviet system.

The corpse of Soviet Realism can be seen everywhere: in the remarkably poor housing and crumbling (literally) academic buildings, in the lack of innovation in teaching methods, and in the desperation of the students to learn, change, and develop beyond whom they are and what their parents have achieved

No one dares to make waves; students do not challenge teachers or the system. And professors are not innovative or engaging. Disagreements smolder but faculty and students rarely speak of them for fear of a very heavy price. To complain or advocate for a more just system is to commit professional suicide. Sadly, students rarely ask questions of their professors. They wait until the lecture's over and then crush the professor with detailed questions they would not dare ask in "public". Such public questioning of the professor is somehow "bad form".

While Lithuania seems patriarchal, it is quickly and quietly growing into a matriarchal society; though the hope among these women academics seems to be for a balanced, democratic society. Women carry what is a disproportionate burden in the culture and society. One observation that I made to several women faculty members and the members of our foreign teaching group was that when they are young, the women are stunningly attractive. But with the burdens and stresses of working, going to university, childbearing, and persistent, grinding poverty, the women age very quickly.

There is little in the way of medical care in the sense that citizens here have it. Many relatively young women have lost their teeth and are broken physically. Young women in the University, if they become pregnant, often quit school and marry prematurely or abort the fetus or keep the child and try to continue in school living in very poor university housing. This last option does not last long.

Young men, on the other hand, seem healthier, by and large, more assertive, and relatively carefree. Still, there are smoldering angers and dour dispositions seen in almost every face.

I was in Lithuania for nearly a month -- clearly not long enough to truly know the culture or society intimately. Yet, what I came to know, I love deeply. I cannot separate my experience of Lithuania from my person or my vocation as a Jesuit priest. I felt needed professionally and personally in Lithuania and that is a very rare experience for me as a Jesuit involved in higher education in the United States at the close of the twentieth century.

Questions that remain in my prayer since I have come home include,

• "Why do the disadvantaged and the marginalized seem to attract me more than the advantaged and the privileged?"
• "What is holy about the stubborn endurance of the Lithuanian people, especially my students and the faculty I know?"
• "What kinds of innovations and professional and personal dreams are appropriate at Siauliai University?"
• "What innovations and dreaming or planning would be inappropriate?"
• "How can I continue to be of service to my colleagues and friends in Siauliai University?"