An excerpt from an article by Ann W. Astell appearing in the latest issue of Spiritus (Spring 2013) based on her 2012 SSCS Presidential Address:
On August 17, 1931, Edith Stein wrote to her former student Anneliese Lichtenberger: “Among the books you got as a child, do you have Andersen’s Fairy Tales? If so, read the story of the ugly duckling. I believe in your swan-destiny.” One can hardly imagine a more encouraging word from a brilliant teacher to a young woman, a girl, who has just been placed on academic probation. Charming as the allusion is, it also serves as parable for Stein’s educational thought. The little bird in the tale of Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875), we recall, is ugly as a duckling and scorned by the ducks, because it never really was a duckling at all. It comes to recognize itself for what it truly is – a beautiful swan – through a process of suffering and maturing, of mysterious, connatural attraction to other swans, and, finally, in a moment of longing self-sacrifice and rebirth, a revelatory sight of its own reflection in the water, accompanied by the recognition of its swaneity by others. For Stein, the real purpose of education, in life and in the schools, is to promote a person’s true and transformative self-knowledge, which opens into the knowledge of God’s love. In this process the educator plays a key, contemplative role. “I believe in your swan-destiny,” Stein writes to Anneliese. “Just don’t hold it against others if they haven’t discovered this yet.”
Scholars of Edith Stein usually focus either on her scholarly achievement as a phenomenologist in the philosophical circle closest to Edmund Husserl (1859-1938) or on her devotional and theological writings as a Carmelite nun, first in Cologne and then in Echt, Holland, where she was arrested by the S. S. on August 2, 1942. The blurb on the cover of Waltraud Herbstrith’s biography of Stein reflects these two poles of interest: “The Untold Story of the Philosopher and Mystic Who Lost Her Life in the Death Camps of Auschwitz.” In this essay I meditate on Stein not principally as philosopher and mystic (although she never ceases to be both), but rather as an educator and a theorist of education who understands the learning process to be a spiritual path.