During my undergraduate studies, I have found that my care for others manifests most authentically when I’m facilitating the communication of ideas. Whether I’m working with peers face-to-face across the smooth circular tables of my on-campus Writing Studio, mentoring bright-eyed freshman in the technicalities of AP style and journalism, or offering thoughtful asynchronous feedback to young writers online, I know that I fulfill a vocational role when supporting others in the development of their writing. 

The joy and purpose I experience while serving in these positions is grounded in my understanding of Jesus Christ as Logos: a concept described by St. John in the first chapter of his Gospel. This passage has brought such crucial clarity to my life as a writer and an artist, due to the multimodal understanding embedded within it. Whether through sculpture, painting, poetry, or prose, I’ve devoted much of my artistic pursuits to the contemplation of Jesus’ incarnation and multimodality. This personal introspection has allowed me to develop a pedagogical style that acknowledges the interdisciplinary nature of communication and prioritizes the inherent intersectional value of individuals.

In response to John 1, as a writer I’m stricken by the fact that God wrote a book for humanity to learn from. John equates Christ to Scripture by identifying Him as the Logos: the Word or Reason. This theological concept grants writers, linguists, philologists, poets, logophiles, et al. such strong grounding in terms of what we study and generate. In the words of J.R.R. Tolkien, we are ‘sub-creators’, fashioning the world around us after the design of the true Creator. When I work with other writers, I aim to understand them in terms of that ‘sub-creative’ striving. What broader truths are they attempting to convey? How can I reinforce the implementation of transferable skills that will strengthen their reason and judgement? 

As an artist, particularly a figure sculptor, I’m also enthralled by the emphasis John places on how the Word became flesh—that is, a truly human figure. The incarnate God, occupying three-dimensional space, manifests Himself through interpersonal, embodied communication with His creations. Scripture promises a City of God that we will inhabit together at the end of all things, and walk with our Lord once again. On account of this, I strive to be wholeheartedly aware of the people I interact with in a teaching environment. Who are they beyond this moment in the Writing Studio, beyond this assignment or class? How can my acknowledgement of their holistic lives benefit our academic conversation? 

I’ve never been afraid to ask questions such as these, and this instinct has served me well in my experience teaching and tutoring. While I’m confident in the feedback I can offer, I prefer to first listen to a writer or a student, and glean information about their physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual wellness before I begin to clarify support or clarify their work. This tactic has led to great success when I’m able to formulate a better understanding of a person’s situation and mindset before I address their writing concerns. Further, this creates opportunities to draw connections between surprising areas of their lives, and thus employ their motivations and interests with more productivity and efficiency. 

My desire to operate in these capacities is not constrained to my personal career goals, but encompasses a genuine care for people and their writing, on account of my faith and understanding of Jesus Christ. Christ wove a beautiful tapestry of gentleness, joy, honesty, and tranformation as He taught the Gospel, and I strive to adopt His posture in my tutoring work.