There’s a new sheriff in town, and her name is Laurie Patton–the recently installed, first female president of Middlebury College. Her remarks at last weekend’s Alumni Leadership Conference covered a myriad of topics–but the one that struck me the most was her talk of the so-called hierarchy of majors. We enjoy categorizing fields of study as ‘most lucrative’ or ‘most useless’ (Economics and Theater, respectively.) Areas of scientific and mathematical inquiry are given greater gravitas than studio art, music, or theater. We must train ourselves to break away from this school of thought, President Patton advised. Make a place for your knowledge and skill set in the world–don’t mold yourself into the person you think the world will like.

The hierarchy of majors in the job market is one thing–the hierarchy mindset on college campuses is another. Why is it that people looking for an easy A gravitate towards theater, music, and art classes? Is it because these disciplines, in their flexibility and allowance for interpretation, make it harder to be wrong than in a math or science class? Is that really all college students are concerned about? Not being wrong? Most Middlebury students aren’t used to being wrong, and they expect the trend to continue, safe in a cocoon of A’s and ‘good job’s from day one to year four. Thus they might seek classes they know they can excel at instead of venturing into uncharted territory. I know I certainly did. We stay in our cozy nests of subject matter dominance, only venturing out for the odd distribution requirement.

This hierarchy starts much earlier than college–the preeminence of athletics over dance and biology over theater starts in the cradle, when parents attempt to steer their kids away from pursuits they believe won’t result in a viable career. ‘Dance can’t be classified as a varsity sport–there’s no direct conflict of interests between two teams involved.’ ‘You’re going to be poor as a church mouse if you major in theater.’ These are both things I was told growing up, and I started to believe myself that theater wasn’t a worthy discipline–what skills and expertise does it require? What specialized knowledge? The problem is the specialized knowledge performing arts require is sometimes invisible–they develop skills we take for granted in children–the ability to work in a team, to problem-solve, to be creative, to be empathetic, to be confident, to speak well, to be literate and cultured.

These skills are the ones we use our whole life long–after calculus, physics, and biology have retreated to the dusty corners of our brains. Not everyone will become an engineer or a doctor–but everyone communicates through speech and writing, everyone relates to other individuals, and everyone works with others in some capacity–these are things theater has made me an expert in, but only because I’ve had a lot of practice.

We talk about teachable skills and non-teachable skills in the workplace: you can teach someone a computer program or how to balance a budget–you can’t teach them to be personable, confident, punctual, or a good public speaker. These are skills that need to start developing early on in order to stick later–it’s harder but not impossible to teach an old dog new tricks.

If we value the skills and abilities that make people not just employable but independent and resilient, then how can we claim that music, dance, and theater are not worth our child’s time? The facts will always be there, the equations will always balance, and the numbers will always add up–it is when we take on the invisible, the unknown, and the creative components of any discipline that we open ourselves to great risk but also great learning.