These days it is commonplace to talk not only about ‘the student experience’ but also about ‘the student journey’. This is a journey that begins at the first point of contact with the institution, when membership is but a possibility to be explored. It then continues through application, induction, study and assessment to the climax of graduation, before continuing into an ‘afterlife’ as an alumnus (and potential resource). As a heuristic tool then to examine competing notions of the purpose of education (that might easily coexist in the same institution) one could ask, somewhat playfully, with what mindset is this ‘student journey’ undertaken: as a tourist or as a pilgrim?
The Tourist: is the consumer, a seeker after an experience which is to be enjoyed, used up and then done with. The goal is entertainment to ‘fill in’ but not essentially change time. The self remains the same, but acquires additional goods (skills and experiences) which might be used to bestow an advantage over others. The world remains the same; one can still plot oneself on the original map, though perhaps now in a different place.
The Pilgrim: travels for the sake of the gift of being transformed by what one experiences. The journey is as important as the destination, time is qualitatively changed. The self no longer remains the same but is expanded and cultivated in what is hoped will be a permanent alteration. Change is not sought for personal advancement but as the consequence of a deeper encounter with reality. The world becomes a different place; one’s map has to be re-drawn to locate oneself anew. As Paul Rohde (2013) suggests: “[a] pilgrimage is all about being called out of one’s expectations and preoccupations and called into attentiveness and surprise.” (p.147)
We might also usefully think about the accommodation requirements of each. The tourist desires a high quality hotel, a room of their own with all the latest facilities and expects not to be disturbed or interrupted by other guests. The pilgrim is happy with the basic accommodation of a retreat house. If sharing is required, so be it, because one hopes to be invited into a community where people take an interest in each other, in what they have learned and where they hope to go next (cf. Markham 2004). The different equations used to weigh the relative significance of the physical quality of one’s accommodation in relation to the purpose of the journey are telling.
The distinction made here between the tourist and the pilgrim is artificially sharp. No student I have ever met falls completely in one type of the other. It has been drawn to create two clear end-member types which describe the limits of what is much more of a continuous spectrum of possibilities. It is also entirely possible that the one who sets out as a determined tourist might migrate into a pilgrim as a result of what the journey brings. The reverse could also happen. The purpose of the exercise however is, to repeat, simply to provide a lens through which to observe how the nature of education as it is conceived and enacted in our institutions.
It would, of course, be naive in the extreme to imagine that, for the sake of the prospect of some form of personal transformation, students would be happy to accept poor facilities and incomprehensible lectures. In the contemporary, competitive scene, survival requires an attractive offer that promises comfortable accommodation, excellent sports and recreational facilities, learning that entertains as well as informs and educates, provides what the student believes she or he needs to know, and a reasonable chance at employment beyond. Yet for universities that can draw on a tradition which knows of an encounter with reality that changed Abram into Abraham, or a schooling in the company of Jesus that changed Simon into Peter, education cannot become just a consumer transaction. To allow this to happen would be to sell one’s birthright. ‘Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind…’ (Rom 12:2).
Transformation cannot easily be guaranteed; it cannot straight-forwardly be made part of a contractual agreement. It does not fit easily into learning outcomes; it does not lend itself to obvious detection by forms of assessment. It is in some sense the overplus of learning that comes as gift. It is what happens when unexpected and surprising new horizons open which mean one can never be quite the same. It is what happens when mind meets mind not when pre-packaged goods meets customer.
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