I entered the University of Wisconsin- Milwaukee Masters in Sociology Program in the fall of 1970. It was a turbulent time, and the Sociology Department certainly reflected that. I had recently left the corporate world of accountancy, and I was hoping to find renewal and meaning.
My first course of the first semester, Sociological Theory, was taught by a diminutive Indian professor, Dr. Bharadwaj, though he wanted us to call him Lakshmi. He spoke in a soft and equanimous voice. As the semester evolved, he taught theories including Capitalism, Marxism, Charismatic Movements, Revolution and Counter Revolution, the Scientific ethos, Technological thought, the Bureaucratization of society, and so on. Concurrently, he revealed blazing critical thought and analysis in an impeccable intellectual manner that stretched my mind. He exposed the inherent biases, prejudices, and assumptions of modern sociological thought. It was surgical, and at this point in my life, I was learning critical thinking skills.
He was a master deconstructionist. A man with a quiet voice, systemically and metaphorically, cutting off the legs or the pretentiousness of modern societies. One potent example for me was Lakshmi’s critique of a modern American sociologist and his essays on the American Indian rain dance. Lakshmi compellingly depicted the paternalism, the paucity of penetrating comprehension of tribal consciousness that biased the study: science knows that dances don’t produce rain. To that sociologist, the rain dance was a relic that reflected ignorance. But Lakshmi was teaching me to question, and I asked myself, who is the ignorant one here?
Professor Bharadwaj was held in high esteem by his contemporaries, though they avoided debate forums with him. Marxism was the predominant philosophy of the professors, yet some accurately saw Lakshmi as a revolutionary in the Gandhian tradition.
Near the end of the semester, one of the brightest students, David, a fervent Marxist at the beginning of the semester, stood up and said, “Professor, you have eroded my beliefs in all things I held as true. I am empty, confused and despondent.”
It was a palpable moment as a stunned silence enveloped the room. I was thoroughly amazed at the transparency of the moment. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, I was witnessing an act of spiritual surrendering, a suspension of ingrained beliefs.
Lakshmi’s response was calming, comforting, and rejoined, stating that there is Truth in this world and in your life. My ears perked up. “Truth?? What exactly is that?” queried David? “That’s beyond the scope of this class and sociological empiricism. I am teaching you critical thinking skills,” Lakshmi offered.
At that moment I knew that I had found an advisor for my Master’s program. I spent many hours in his office over the ensuing two years. I learned much from this great man, and subtle pearls of wisdom permeated the barriers of my mind. He opened up a path and exposed me to a new way of being in this world. It was a beginning of a life long journey filled with hills and valleys. It was two and a half years after finishing my program at UWM when I visited my first nursing home……
Love This Post, Jeff. Makes me want to sneak in the class and sit in back, just to audit the course… I wish there was one book I could read, to get a concentrated overview of all the information the Teacher shared… likely that is wishful thinking by someone not willing to devote all the time required to learn each element separately. Still, I believe in telling the Universe what you want, and sometimes, you even get it! Thanks so much for yet-another thought-provoking post.