I’m an introvert. God made me with that type of personality. I think I’m on solid ground in making a distinction between personality and character. Personality is something that comes hard-wired; character is what you do with the personality you have been given. As an introvert, I’m uneasy pushing my way into a conversation, I tend to sit in the back of rooms, and I don’t really want to draw attention to myself.
Many introverts who are drawn to academia are fascinated by the research side of it. Going to a library or an archives and burying oneself in books and documents can be invigorating for those of us who like the solitude of a research room where we dig into unexplored academic destinations. The research room doesn’t have to be in a grand place like the Library of Congress or the National Archives, but that type of setting does enhance the experience, to be sure. What’s really important to the introverted researcher is the “golden nuggets” of information that others may have either dismissed or overlooked.
Oh, here’s something Noah Webser jotted on a piece of paper that shows up nowhere in his published works! This can shed more light on his thinking.
Goodness, this letter C.S. Lewis wrote to his friend in his pre-Christian days gives some rather significant insight into how God might have been working in his life even before he came under conviction of the truth. I need to highlight this!
All true researchers know these moments. I’ve had many of them because I enjoy locating those “nuggets.” So, why didn’t I just wall myself in as a researcher, simply delight in the “nuggets,” and let it go at that? Some people can devote their lives to research and get paid for it. Well, there’s another part of me, also hard-wired, I believe, that wants to explain things. Just because someone is an introvert doesn’t imply lack of desire to point to truth and to show the difference between right and wrong. That’s augmented when one becomes a Christian. We want to state God’s truths clearly and help others avoid errors in thinking and in making judgments. What better way to do that than by teaching?
Therefore, even though I’m naturally introverted, when given the opportunity to explain Christian faith, history, government, politics, and other related matters (and in the process incorporating those nuggets from my research), I’m willing to undertake the challenge and set my introverted nature aside while teaching. If people know me only in the classroom setting, they are sometimes surprised that I call myself an introvert. Yet, I know I’m still that guy who would prefer to be at the back of the room. No matter how long I’ve taught classes, both in the academic world or in the church, “butterflies” characterize my emotional state as I prepare to teach. Once I start, I’m fine.
Another natural way for introverts to come to the forefront as “explainers” is through writing. The urge to write has been with me from the start of my academic pursuits. When I completed my master’s thesis, I used it as the basis for an article I sent to a historical journal, The New England Quarterly. It was accepted, somewhat to my surprise, but also to my delight.
When I finished the doctoral dissertation, I found an academic publisher for it. I carried over the title from the dissertation: Defining Noah Webster: Mind and Morals in the Early Republic. I thought that was a rather clever title for a man who wrote a dictionary. It came out as a hardback book and much too expensive, so twelve years later, I did some revising (to cut out anything I considered too “dissertationese”) and found another publisher that produced a paperback edition. I kept the main title but changed the subtitle because I sought a more general non-academic audience. The new subtitle was simply A Spiritual Biography. It’s still in print.
I wasn’t done.
I decided to turn some of my teaching notes into another book a few years after my initial professorial position. This time I waded into the world of self-publishing, finding an artist for the cover and locating a printer for the finished product. Throughout the following years, I made certain corrections to it and republished new editions. The title was If the Foundations Are Destroyed: Biblical Principles and Civil Government. This was a valuable experience, but one thing I learned rather quickly is that my introverted nature made me a less-than-stellar publicist for my work. I’ve never been good at selling anything. My failed attempts with that specific vocation is a sad tale that should be resigned to oblivion.
Therein lay my quest for an academic position: the desire to explain.
I’ve never been an aficionado of country music, but the words of one song ring true for all of life, not excluding academic life.
I beg your pardon; I never promised you a rose garden.
Along with the sunshine, there’s gotta be a little rain sometime.
In the thirty-eight-plus years of my time in academia, I’ve been warmed in the glow of some real sunshine. I’ve also experienced rain, sometimes more like a blinding thunderstorm. The Lord never promised a life without storms or thorns; learning how to handle the stormy and thorny situations in life is a classroom in itself. But that’s a topic for another time.
What I’ve shared in this post is part of a chapter in the memoirs I’m writing. This will be a months-long endeavor as I seek to share what the Lord has taught me in my 75 years. For those of you who pray, may I ask for your prayers as I continue with this task?