My beloved professor, Dr. Lumsdaine, passed away this morning. I remember Dr. Lumsdaine for many things -- he was quirky and funny in class, he often came in to the classroom looking a bit disheveled and about 5 minutes after class was supposed to start. His lectures often went way over my head (because he was perhaps one of the most brilliant people I have ever met. Studying math, then economics, then international affairs is part of that reason). But Dr. Lumsdaine's head wasn't just in the books, his head and heart were given freely to his students. Every syllabus invited student conversation beyond the classroom for his office hours. Dr. Lumsdaine's office hours were different than most professors. He invited students to come to Gillies (a lounge in our student center) and would be there often times way beyond his time slot (I know he was sometimes there until midnight talking with a student). He looked at me in the eyes and told me that he cared about me and was always willing to talk more -- about anything from Latin American politics and American foreign policy to his life and faith. He asked students to call him "Dr. D" and to think of him as more than just a professor, but a brother in Christ. I remember him telling me that he felt he had a unique gift to be a mentor to students -- I know he lived that out in every way.
His death came too soon. There are too many more students who needed to hear his voice, who needed to hear the way he said "welllllll..." and "mmmmhmmmmmmmm", who would have learned about international relations and diplomacy and a God who loves and works amidst these broken systems. There are too many more students who needed his listening ears and his compassion and generosity. There are many more seniors who needed to hear him humming a song or hymn as he walked with the faculty out of our Baccalaureate service. More people who needed to read excerpts from his book Moral Vision in International Politics and tell them that the book mattered to them personally, like it did to me.
When I was given the opportunity to speak at our Baccalaureate service, it was a gift to me because it gave me the opportunity to express (although inadequately) the impact of my college experience. Professors were one of the biggest impacts, and Dr. D was one of them:
I fell in love with a process of learning where I am able to ask the hard questions to people who don’t run away from me, but embrace me in their office with an open chair, a crowded bookshelf, piles of papers, and sincere ears to listen.Dr. D was one of these professors who eagerly listened to the hard questions, embraced a stressed-out and confused 21 year old who was trying to connect the dots after a semester abroad. And he again listened to her during her last semester of college, and again as she prepared to go home to California.
I regret that I didn't get to send him the proper thank you he deserved. The best thank you I think I gave him (surely insufficient, but nonetheless, something to show that his work was meaningful to me), was a reflection I wrote in the room I shared with my host sister Barbara in San Jose de la Montaña, Costa Rica during my study abroad experience as I was processing books and conversations and a hundred questions spinning in my head. The reason I wrote this reflection was because I was thinking about an excerpt from Dr. D's book on international politics, specifically foreign aid. I was pretty depressed thinking about world affairs and country interactions and felt pretty hopeless. Then I came across these words Dr. D wrote in the conclusion of his book:
It is by a life of love, of community, of reaching out to others whether we find them useful or attractive or not, that we come to open our hearts to what it truly means for us to be human. We are not very good at doing it; but, as with every task which requires inspiration, we can but work away at what we can do while we wait and hope. We cannot command our human destiny, but perhaps events will turn out graciously for us if, aware of our weakness and limitations, we set our sights on what is good” (293)
This excerpt deserves more context, and I apologize that I can't flesh that out better here, but I can tell you what I took away from this, and why I thanked him for these words. I wrote:
I’m a Political Science major – and maybe that will at times come in conflict with Christian principles as my host father told me in Nicaragua. But I’m hoping that Dr. Lumsdaine is right: that politics doesn’t have to be all lies and corruption – that moral vision does make a difference and doing what is right can actually be in the “best interest” of a nation. Getting that passed in the house of congress or the Supreme Court might be a different story and a high task, but it’s worth fighting for. It may be idealist, opportunistic, romantic – but if it’s what is right, I need to fight for it, no matter what the cost.
I was encouraged when I read his words and they gave me a glimmer of hope as I was sitting in a foreign country wondering if seeking the good of others didn't have to be trumped by power and greed. I was encouraged by a political scientist and expert in international diplomacy who believed in the Good, who believed in a God who is The ultimate good and that this goodness can impact the world around us.
Dr. D, you are missed. I look forward to the day when I hear you sing again and read your brilliant writing and hear your stories and political ideas. Until then, I know I'm blessed to have been your student and I hope to live out, however small or big, your compassion and love for politics and people.
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