The Thomas Jefferson Education Consortium

Today CBS aired a piece on home schooling on The Early Show which prominently featured Thomas Jefferson Education. Watch it for yourself, and leave your comments below. We're interested to hear what all of you think about it.

Recently, my husband and I sat down to eat a quick dinner at Bill Johnson’s Big Apple Steakhouse in Mesa, Arizona, before flying home to Denver. The steakhouse created a Wild West ambiance with antiques of all kinds including old tin lanterns, fontier firearms and ammunitions displays, and antique barber’s chair with cracked red leather upholstery, and sawdust strewn across the linoleum floor. I wondered if our waitress’ replica peacemaker was for dealing with polecats that didn’t leave a decent tip!

Above our booth, a rustic sconce cast a nostalgic amber glow over the tongue and groove paneling and a large portrait of a mother and child in an oval frame of dark polished wood. The young woman in her blue satin Victorian gown gazed adoringly into her child’s cherubic face as they sat serenely on a bench beneath a flowering bough. Across the bottom of this tranquil scene blazed the bold statement: “A Woman’s Place is in the Home.”

In our politically-correct society, “them’s fightin’ words!” Therefore, one could almost dismiss them as sentimental; an out-dated, irrelevant Victorian platitude. But I couldn’t; not since learning about the importance of statesmanship and leadership education in the home at the “Face-to-Face with Greatness” seminars.

One presenter, Laura Bledsoe, quoted Samuel Smiles, who said, “The nation comes from the nursery.”

These words resounded in me.

Since I have immersed myself in the TJEdRefers generally to the concepts presented in the book A Thomas Jefferson Education, written by Dr. Oliver Van DeMille. “lifestyle,” and abandoned the “conveyor belt,” I have been doing my best to travel along the path to scholarship and freedom of thought. Yet, at times I have found myself moving toward lofty heights that confuse my mission/goals and side-track my priorities.

With all of the knowledge I am getting, what am I gaining? As I ask myself this question, a proverb comes to mind, “Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom: and with all thy getting get understanding.”1

I have heard these “lofty heights” described as an “Ivory Tower,” and though I have felt its appeal, I have come to see it as more of a temptation, rather than a goal. One source describes it as such: “The term Ivory Tower designates a world or atmosphere where intellectuals engage in pursuits that are disconnected from the practical concerns of everyday life. As such, it has a pejorative connotation , denoting a willful disconnect from the everyday world ...and academic elitism, if not outright condescension by those inhabiting the proverbial ivory tower.”2

How does an “ivory tower,” such as the one described above, fit into my own mission? That’s not where I want to be! We are seeking greatness, but once we find it, what do we use it for? I am studying and learning to help my family, to fulfill my mission, and to help others, not to place myself above anyone else!

“...with all thy getting, get understanding...”

The one TJEdRefers generally to the concepts presented in the book A Thomas Jefferson Education, written by Dr. Oliver Van DeMille. concept that has most intrigued me is that of mission. I have a unique mission that I am on earth to fulfill, and that is the purpose of my life. Everything else I’ve studied falls into place under that single overarching idea. My life has meaning, and I have a work to perform. That’s both truly comforting and terribly disturbing, carrying a message of inspiration and huge responsibility. I have a work to do that is mine alone, and if it dies with me, it goes undone. Of course, the same is true of you. Have you personally begun to uncover the meaning of your life? But more important, are you taking the steps necessary to accomplish that mission? I tend to think that most of us have a long way to go on this path called mission. I certainly do! But just knowing that I have a mission and that it’s my job to discover it and accomplish it gives a great deal of focus and power to the things I choose to do.

I recently attended a talk given by Dr. Shannon Brooks to our group here in Arizona, where he spent some time discussing the nature of mission. In it he paraphrased Aristotle’s definition of virtue: something is virtuous when it does the thing for which it was created (e.g. a pair of scissors is virtuous when they cut a clean straight line). If we apply that definition to ourselves, we are presented with the question, “Am I accomplishing the purpose for which I was created?” And that question leads straight to another question. “What was I created to do?” That is the quest, to find the answer to what is both the most personal and yet most universal of questions. Answer that question and you find your mission. Find your mission, and everything else falls into place.

So how do you find your mission? I’m not sure I can really answer that question, at least not for anyone other than myself. For me, the answer came through writing. When I first climbed out of the box (you know, the one everyone always tells you to think outside of), I discovered so many possible courses of action that I was completely overwhelmed. Where before I saw only a few options, now there were too many to choose from. It’s like coming to the world’s biggest buffet, but you only get one plate. There are so many incredible-looking options, but you can only try so much. I was stuck, not wanting to continue the way I had been going, but afraid to pick the wrong thing. (That conveyor belt training sure does a good job of instilling a fear of failure, doesn’t it?) Over the course of four or five years, I probably came up with fifteen or twenty different ideas of what I should be doing with my life. However, I only acted on about two of them, and even then I quit pretty quickly.

I finally got some advice from my mentor. She suggested that I go someplace where I could be alone for a few days, just to mull things over. She also gave me a technique I have used a number of times since then: write at least three pages, and by the end you’ll have your answer. Even if you have to start by writing something like “I’m sitting here on this uncomfortable camp chair writing about nothing, and I don’t even know why,” by the time you get to the end of the third page, you’ll have your answer. Oddly, it’s worked for me every time.

Earlier this summer I had the opportunity to travel through Europe. While there, I loved visiting the old cathedrals each with their unique styles and architecture. Each one had a story to tell of the time period, the patron saint, and great sarcophagi of the famous men and women who were interred on the premise. My favorite cathedral had to be St. Paul’s in London. I loved the grandeur of the clean open space, the light that illuminated the interior, the reverent feeling that it conveyed. I liked how the tombs were kept below in the crypt. Many grand tributes and lavish tombstones were made to remember the deceased, but my favorite was the tribute made to Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of the building. On a plain unornamented stone was simply inscribed, “Underneath is laid the builder of this church and city, Sir Christopher Wren, who lived more than 90 years, not for himself alone, but for the public good. Reader, if you seek his monument look around you.”

I wondered what “monuments” might I leave behind, what will be my life’s work?

Recently I was meeting with my children and outlining the structure of our summer schedule. My 12 year old daughter, our second child, was visibly disgruntled about something during our meeting. I met with her afterwards and we had an enlightening, heart-to-heart talk. She expressed a lot of disjointed frustrations until we hit on the real issue. She wanted very much to have the same privilege to study as her older, 15 year old brother. I was surprised by this because she already spends so many hours of her day reading, writing, painting, gardening, cooking etc. and I try very hard not to interrupt her activities. What she wanted was to be recognized as a scholar and given the privileges and responsibilities that go with it. When I asked her what phase she sees herself in, she determinedly, and with a hint of an excited smile, told me she is a scholar. She asked if she could go to her room and write out her summer study plan and then show it to me. I, of course, encouraged her to do so.

As Leadership Education grows and TJEdRefers generally to the concepts presented in the book A Thomas Jefferson Education, written by Dr. Oliver Van DeMille. spreads, we have gotten more and more of a certain type of question that we think deserves a more public response. It seems that a number of people who read the TJEd books and articles or attend the seminars resonate with the idea of getting off the conveyor belt, but unwittingly find themselves drawn to a new TJEd-style conveyor belt. This can be a difficult transition, and staying off any conveyor belt is very important.

This lecture was originally given at the 1^st Annual Alumni and Friends Gala in conjunction with the GWCAn abbreviation of George Wythe College, a private liberal arts college located in Cedar City, Utah, at which Dr. Oliver DeMille serves as president. 2004 Commencement Ceremonies.

There is a widespread myth that feminism came about in the 20^th Century, that—along with Civil Rights and Environmentalism—feminism is one of our great modern advances. The truth is that feminism has a much earlier origin.

I have my own Heaven on earth. It has shaped me, defined who I am, built my character and my faith. It is not architecturally interesting, beautifully decorated, nor extraordinary to discriminating eyes. Yet to me, it is sacred and dear. It is a little box of a cabin sitting in the center of a vast meadow basin. Rising in the distance is a towering mountain covered in pine trees. The only trees around the cozy cottage are tiny sticks, poking out of the ground. They wave in the constant wind, tugging against staked ropes. Next winter they will be crushed again, and the cabin’s owners will attempt to convince the next batch to survive the heavy winter snow.