The Hierophant: How to make creative magic within institutions

The dictionary definition of a hierophant is someone who interprets sacred mysteries — basically an ancient priest, a keeper of the “holy.”

You can see the holiness in the imagery: He exudes all the feels of a pope, with the crosses on his robes and a triple-barred papal cross in his hand. 

He represents institutions, traditions, and conformity.

But this isn’t just about religion. The hierophant can represent institutions or philosophies that are so pervasive,  so powerful, that we rarely question them. Such as capitalism. Or the worship of thinness. Or education.

Scholars often refer to  “the education gospel,” where most of us have blind faith that more schooling is the answer to all of our problems: Namely, that the attainment of more education — and its credentials — is the key to securing a “good” job for the individual, while also fighting inequality and poverty in our communities. Education offers individual and collective salvation. 

Like most of us, I have blindly accepted the education gospel. Not going to college wasn’t really an option. This was assumed in my middle-class family. I earned a bachelor’s degree at a state university (which I loved doing) and had the good sense to find an employer that paid for my master’s degree while slowly erasing my $15,000 undergraduate debt. 

But I was lucky — and, like many xennials, I now question our education gospel, especially as we experience ballooning student debt, stagnating wages, and job insecurity. The Trump years — and especially the pandemic — have revealed our fragilities.

For too long, we expected education to provide social mobility and solve poverty — but it has just papered over systemic racism and wealth inequality while the middle class was gutted by decades of corporate-bought governance. 

Education alone can not save us from a broken social contract. And this is incredibly dispiriting for those of us who believe in the mission of education.

I see teachers as the modern hierophants within our institutions of education. 

But think of “teacher” as more of a role than a job title.

I work at a community college and consider myself one of those priests, even though I don’t teach in a classroom. I also considered myself a teacher when I wrote for a daily newspaper. 

Any leader worth following is a good teacher.

How can teachers who question the education gospel — who are losing faith — continue to inspire others within their institutions?

I’ve found two helpful ways forward. The first is how the teacher balances conformity and individuality within a large organization.

The best book I’ve read that addresses this tension is “Orbiting the Giant Hairball” by Gordon MacKenzie.

MacKenzie spent 30 years trying to stay creative as an artist at Hallmark, a giant corporate institution.

If you’re confused by the title, he explains it like this:

The hairball is the all of the policies, procedures, and rules of your institution — the frustrating bullsh*t. To orbit is to “find a place of balance where you benefit from the physical, intellectual and philosophical resources of the organization without becoming entombed in the bureaucracy of the institution.” (p. 33)

Orbiting, he says, is “responsible creativity.”

MacKenzie urges us to follow our joy … to “find the goals of the organization that touch your heart and release your passion to follow those goals.” (p. 53)

To never forget the power of what he calls our “personal magic.”

Which brings us to the second way forward for educational hierophants.

Isn’t our job as educators to help others realize their own personal magic? 

In my studies of progressive education, I’ve learned Montessorians educate for the head, the hands, and the heart. When we talk about educational policy and methods, we hear much about instruction for the mind. Thankfully, we’re hearing more about hands-on, experiential learning as well. But what about the heart and spirit? Are we talking enough about that part?

The authors of “Relationship-Rich Education: How Human Connections Drive Success in College” list some of the best questions to ask our students … questions to help them on their “spiritual quests” (p. 63):

• Who am I? 
• What are my most deeply held values? 
• Do I have a mission or a purpose in my life? 
• Why am I in college? 
• What kind of person do I want to become? 
• What sort of world do I want to help create?

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Questions to consider if you draw The Hierophant:

• Are you exploring spiritual questions with those you lead? Or with yourself?
• Are you asking “why” enough?
• How are following your joy — and using your personal magic — as you orbit your institutional hairball?