Finding meaning in a different kind of classroom

(Editor's note: Dr. Jason Mahn is an associate professor of religion and director of the Presidential Center for Faith and Learning at Augustana.)

May 2019

I love teaching, but like any professor, there are times when I feel drained, when teaching loses its spark, and when I wonder whether I am "making a difference."

In this past academic year I've found some vocational renewal in an unlikely place — a simple cinder-block classroom in the East Moline Correctional Center. 

In November 2018, I began teaching a course called “Lives that Matter” at EMCC. The course is part of a “Graduated Release Initiative” that involves three Augustana faculty members (from anthropology, communication studies, and religion).The program offers incarcerated individuals support before and after their release from prison to try to reduce the chance of recidivism. 

Through my first five-week class, students read essays, short stories, and poems that dealt with vocation — that is, with the meaning and purpose of their lives. During our first session, I drew a Venn diagram on the whiteboard and talked about finding that “sweet spot” when what we’re good at and what we’re excited about intersects with what a community or a person most needs.

I spoke about taking care of my father when he was in hospice care. I was capable of emptying his catheter bag and he needed someone to help him die with dignity. I felt called — absolutely no doubt about it.

I asked the students to share a time when they felt that they were (or would be) exactly where they should be, doing work that needed to be done. A few talked about the satisfaction they felt when they fixed up a house or an old car. A number of them talked about returning to the vocation of fatherhood once they were released.

One student, though, said this: "I’ve already failed in my calling to be a father. I’ve been in prison for almost all of my son’s life. Another father raised him. He’s now grown and in the Marines. While I sometimes think about trying to be a dad again, I know that I shouldn’t have another kid. I’ve got to figure out who I am."

His words moved me, and I relate to them. Although there are moments when meaning and purpose fall into place, most of my own life has been spent straining to find purpose and learning how to move on after I’ve failed at something or, worse, failed someone.

It is clear to me now that teaching (and learning!) in the East Moline Correctional Center has become a significant part of my vocation. It gives some meaning and purpose in my own life. It helps me cut through (and cut out!) much of the overly-"academicy" stuff in order to to think through theological and other issues that really matter.

Teaching in that cinder-block classroom is helping me to become a better teacher in Old Main. Vocations are unwieldy, ongoing things. I hope that Augustana alumni also experience the gift of vocational renewal. They might just find it in unlikely places.