Last Thursday in Early American Literature, the class conducted a (potentially scary and nasty, that was instead beautiful and enlightening) discussion on the Puritans, Pilgrims and the Settlers of the “New Word.”

Eventually, William Bradford found himself in our discussion, a Puritan who believed in Calvinism—the belief that God has predestined certain souls to heaven and certain souls to hell.

Our instructor, Robin Havenick, asked us to elaborate.

Yikes, a discussion on religion? I prepared for the inevitably tense, and perhaps defensive, conversation that was yet to come. We would have hair-pulling, raised voices and perhaps a few “You’re a heathen!” here and there. Before long, we would relive our history, and our words would be just as gruesome as the first American religious folks onlooking the Native Americans.

And yet something else unfolded before us. Something very special.

As students speculated the first European travelers to America, strangers and acquaintances taught the class different religious views. Each explanation was well-delivered and well understood. Our own ideology was welcomed, fully listened to and considered.

People’s faces lit up.

Side-conversations sparked new ideas and brand-new directions of conversation. We ran down to the last minutes of class, eager to get in just one more word, one more nod of someone else’s head. A “Yes, I agree,” or a, “Hold on. What about this?”

What can cause tension and boundaries between many people undoubtedly brought us closer together—all because of a willingness to speak respectfully and to listen objectively to each other.

For the duration of only two hours, we realized when discussions on religion are approached with an open mind, a want to understand and a respectful and courteous approach, we can truly create an inspiring environment.

This is possible when theology ceases to blind us, and we see the goodness in other forms of faith.

When a Buddhist and a Christian realize they have love and compassion in common.

When the nonreligious and the religious sit in the same room and find some sort of appreciation in each other.

When the fundamentalist finds value in science and how medicine can enhance our standard of living.

When the naturalist finds wisdom in religious teachings.

When we choose to disagree and actually know what we’re disagreeing about.

When we accept having preconceived notions about other ideologies and seek to eliminate all ignorance and prejudices.

When different methods of existing no longer threaten us, but offer a door to a different, and perhaps worthy, approach to our own devotion.

In an English Lit. classroom of all sorts of differences, we were able to create such an environment. This is a world I want to live in.

Jennifer M. Hartsock works as the opinion editor for the LBCC newspaper, The Commuter, and writes the weekly opinion column Straight from the Hartsock and the advice column Dear Conscience. Her extra time goes to working as a tutor and freelance editor on campus and in the community. She maintains a writer’s blog.