Molly Burhans ‘14
Magis means being and becoming more of who I am. It means searching for more knowledge while simultaneously carving out more room for the mysterious and unfathomable. Magis means making more room: making room for God, my neighbor, the hyper-achiever, the mediocre, the lonely, the normal and the weird. Magis means more: it means more charity and mindfulness. It means seeing the gift of others more. It means more solidarity. It involves listening to other's small kindnesses, quite desperation, pontifications and deliberations, and meeting them there, even if it means touching that same wound in me as they have. It means seeing the gift of oneself more, which may seem next to impossible some days. Magis means hoping in more than what I can know is possible.
Magis means more. Magis means deeper learning: seeking an understanding of the individual, the particular, the parts, and the relative in context with the group, the general, the whole, and the universal. It means being stronger and more meek at the same time, standing compassionately in the face of bullies and oppressors, being stronger than their weaknesses hidden behind their facade of hate. Magis means more forgiveness, it means genuinely helping an enemy without the closure of an apology. Magis means more forgiveness for oneself, too.
Magis reminds us that school is not just about a degree but also about receiving a transformative educational experience. It reminds us that learning is more than grades: that sometimes one person's C is the mark of extraordinary personal achievement beyond the A of another. It shows us we are more than students, faculty, administration, staff and alumni. We are a community: a community of people who laugh, grieve, celebrate, learn and care on one campus. Magis means more. I wouldn't quite know what magis is without my experiences at Canisius.