Abstract
Invite students onto the path of service.
How can the gift of a Thanksgiving dinner in 1979 influence a research project in 2011 and curriculum design in 2014? As educators, we bring our own life experiences into the classroom, and the result can be life changing for students who learn from us what it means to have a passion for service. This brief story outlines my humble start with service, then connects service to a collegiate setting, and finally asks other educators to continue to provide service starts for students.
My own “service start” occurred in the first grade. In school, we were given a small orange box with a coin slot on the top and the word “UNICEF” on the side. I clearly remember thinking, “Why do other people need our money?” It did not make sense. Only a few years later, it did make sense as my newly divorced mother tried to raise four kids on her own. We found ourselves on public assistance, not due to her work ethic, but due to her circumstances—namely, us. On the day before Thanksgiving in 1979, my mother walked through the door with a box full of food—a turkey, cranberries, bread, potatoes, corn, and more. She told us that a local church had donated the food to us.
In that moment, at the age of eight, I realized that our family, like so many others, needed to rely on the support of strangers. I have often reflected on those two boxes: one a small UNICEF box for others and one large box full of a Thanksgiving dinner for my family. It was in those reflective moments that I came to understand the need to serve others. Servant leadership means valuing others as equals, noting that at times we are all “have–nots.” Today, as a leadership studies faculty member, I demonstrate this by creating opportunities for students to engage with people who simply need help.
In the mid–1990s when I accepted a director of student life position at a state university in Michigan, I worked in an office that successfully recruited students, faculty, and staff for our service projects; together, we began to erase the stigma associated with service as “punishment” for those who had done something wrong. I still continued to teach, and serving in the classroom seemed like an ideal extension of my student outreach efforts. In 1996, I infused service into the curriculum; however, it was not without challenge. In the classroom, students pushed back: “Why are you making me to do community service? I didn't do anything wrong!” and “I don't drive on ‘that side’ of town.” But I was persistent. After all, I used to live on “that side of town.” I knew that my students just needed to have one special event to possibly prompt them forward into a service lifestyle. In the classroom today, I work to structure events that may provide a college freshman with a “service start” or provide ways for students to more deeply connect with those whom they serve. Some service starts are small and humble, while others are as massive as disaster relief.
In 2011, I hosted a speaker from the National Relief Network, a Michigan–based nonprofit disaster relief agency. The presentation sparked interest among the students in the leadership class to participate in a service trip. Later in the semester, one of the students approached me and asked me to serve with the team who would work in the aftermath of a tornado. As a researcher, I thought that the trip could be a unique way to explore social change leadership skill development. So I started to think of ways to examine the students’ experiences as we provided service for a tornado–ravaged community. The team would soon find out that a very unique experience waited for us on–site. Our job was to enter an affected home for the first time since the tornado—side by side with the family. We would spend the entire time witnessing our impact on the home and the family. The research question for this project was quite simple: “How do we really know that students are being transformed by service?” Based on my own life experience with serving others and being served by others, I now seek to understand this research question in a very personal way. So I asked each student to keep a personal reflection journal that responded to questions regarding their connection to serving others. When prompted about her initial desire to serve at a tornado site, one female student stated:
When I was 3 or 4, we lived in a mobile home park and a tornado ripped through it. The wind was deafening, and I vividly remember hiding in a closet with my parents. Our home was spared, but our neighbors’ homes were simply debris. I remember large groups of people showing up to help restore our neighborhood. This is not a memory I am keen on sharing, but this is my chance to use that luck to help others that haven't been that lucky. It might be a small weeklong trip for me, but it could mean the world to someone that needs help. So I expect to help out as much as possible wherever I can.
This student was served by others as a young child and connected this trip to the concept of giving back. Others turned out for her family and her neighbors, and she wanted to repay that time. When another student was prompted regarding her interactions with the local community, she responded:
Looking back, what stands out the most in my mind from the trip was how awed people were by our presence. I expected to be thanked, but I did not expect people to be so surprised that we were giving up a week of our time to help. I guess I just assume more people do things like this, but obviously I am mistaken. I try to keep this trip to myself. I don't like to tell people about it because they always ask a million questions and then go on and on about how I did such a wonderful thing. I don't need to be praised for my service. That wasn't why I did the service to begin with.
This student gave up an entire week for others, because of the needs of others, and expected nothing in return. Her assumption was that everyone serves, but she found out through dialoguing with others that what she did was indeed special.
Eight months after the site cleanup, I reunited the students and showed them photos of the completed home as a way to collect more data. One student blurted out loudly, “Oh my God. It doesn't even look like the same house!” Another said proudly, “We did that. We didn't put up the last shingle, but we helped at the start.” Then, I shared the news that the mother of the home now volunteers to serve as the county's Tornado Relief Advocate. Sharing this news with the students brought warm smiles, head nods, and some “happy tears.” Their week of service made a difference. Having this follow–up session allowed them to reconnect with the family, the town, and to more deeply understand their impact.
So how can you make a difference inside a classroom or in a cocurricular setting? First, do not assume that every college student has already had a “service start.” You may be the catalyst for creating a life–changing event for that student and ultimately for a needy family. Second, after you have engaged students by serving others, attempt to answer the research question found earlier in this article: “How do we really know that students are being transformed by service?” I suggest a very straightforward, pragmatic approach for answering the question—ask your students. Create structured questions and record their answers. If you plan to publish the information, I suggest institutional review board (IRB) approval from your university. Their answers will allow you to move beyond anecdotal evidence as you begin to see themes (common experiences) emerge from their journals. This qualitative information will bolster your assessment documents, and you will be able to clearly articulate the learning outcomes that are being met through your programming efforts. Sharing your students’ qualitative, transformational stories with others helps to solidify their impact. The overarching goal is that students have a service start, understand their actions, and together build a stronger future for our society. Their journals will allow you to more deeply understand whether they “get it” or not and whether you as an educator have met your own goals.
As I think back to my own “service start,” and my calling to serve others, I connect several life–changing moments that transformed me into a better person. Many of those moments involved people who simply noticed my potential. I escaped limited circumstances with help from those who believed in me, educated me, mentored me, and helped set me on a path of serving others. Faculty and student affairs educators helped me develop and reach my potential. Now, as a faculty member and as a researcher, I honor that privilege as I work to develop the next generation.
Today, I am a hope–filled educator as I watch the kind and generous acts of students. Yes, my students have watched me cry “happy tears” when they learn to pull together to do remarkable things by serving others. I often think about the family in Virginia, the students who served them, and the good feelings that came out of the aftermath of that dark storm. In 2014, I continue to challenge my colleagues in higher education to provide productive “service starts” for students and other valuable service projects to enhance the lives of both students and others. I have adopted a “when in doubt, ask the students” philosophy for researching service, and that has led me to potential assessment protocols for service–based programs.
Finally, I wish that the church in Arizona that gave my family a free Thanksgiving dinner in 1979 could see how that single box of food still fuels my passion for serving others. I may not be able to thank them in person, but their act of kindness has inspired decades of college students to return their gift by simply serving others.