The “Reciprocal Nature of Service” is Tricky Business

In the article “A Faithful Presence in the Community”, Phil de Haan gives a nice description of the underlying philosophy and history of Calvin’s Service-Learning Center. As someone who is quite comfortable in the office now, it was interesting to get a more rounded understanding of the office’s history and humble beginnings. 

One topic de Haan touched on in his article was the tricky “reciprocal nature of service.” Sometimes when organizations are centered around public service, the heart of the mission can get muddled. It is all too easy for service organizations to become a “service savior” of sorts, where the focus is helping others in order to get something, rather than to simply be of service. When sending volunteers out into the community, it is important to be conscious of why that person is there and what needs they are fulfilling. 

Are they truly serving the community by being there, or are they simply doing this to feel good and look good? 

This is something that the S-LC needs to constantly be aware of and re-evaluating. Serving others generally makes the majority of us feel good inside. I believe we were built to help one another, thus it is natural to feel some form of gratification after providing service to someone in need. But when we blow these individual feelings of gratification up to an organizational level, it can be tricky keeping the heart of the mission at the forefront. 

This has become all too apparent in the current pandemic where sending Calvin students out into the community to serve is no longer the safest or best way to be loving our neighbors. Typically sending students into places of need in the community is a straightforward task, but now in attempts to mitigate the spread of COVID-19, site visits carry a new weight. The S-LC is trying to figure out how to work with our community partners in a way that is still useful while keeping everyone as safe as possible. It may feel odd not being in person, but this is the best way to serve our community right now. 

Link to article: https://calvin.edu/publication/spark/2013/12/01/a-faithful-presence-in-the-community

Coloring in the STEM Lines

STEM. Science. Technology. Engineering. Mathematics. These four areas have held my interest since I was a little girl. Science, more than anything else. I decided I wanted to become a doctor when I was eight, and I haven’t strayed from the medical path since. At the time, I didn’t realize or understand how my race would come to affect how hard or how easy that path would be for me. I assumed it would be the same for me as it would be for anyone else raised in an upper-middle-class neighborhood; not easy but attainable. I wasn’t prepared for the reality that I would be hit with.

I moved to Ghana when I was eleven and spent most of my pre-teen and teenage years. Therefore, most of my high school years were spent back in Ghana, where the education system is brutal compared to the education system in the states. I excelled in anything science-related, and my professors encouraged me to continue, as did my peers. I felt ready to go back to the States for my senior year and blow everyone’s expectations out of the water.

I didn’t know I would be the one blown away.

One of the first things I noticed coming back was the expectation of where I was academically. My advisor helped place me in all AP classes, and the extra challenge reminded me of the school system in Ghana. I felt at ease in these classes, but my peers may not have felt the same. Whenever I was put in group projects, my ideas were either gently put down or given little consideration. I didn’t realize that at the time, I was just the ‘girl from Ghana’ to them. Statements such as “ You speak English so well,” or “Biochemistry is so hard. Are you interested in anything else?” were common from both my classmates and my professors. It was one of the first times I had felt consciously aware of how people would view my race and my education. But why did that matter?

In today’s society, STEM employment has rapidly grown since the late 90s from 9.7 million people to 17.3 million people and computer jobs have seen a 338% increase over the same period. With this increase, there has also been an increase in minorities represented in the workplace. Interestingly, black and Hispanic workers are still underrepresented in STEM workers. Black people makeup of 11% of the STEM workforce but only 5% in Engineering specifically. This may be because more Black people just don’t want to be in the Engineering field, but there is generally less access to STEM resources in majority Black neighborhoods.

Not only are resources lacking, but surveys done to understand diversity trends in STEM jobs found that there were widely different results when different races were asked about the lack of diversity. 73% of black people were found to agree that lacking resources for STEM early on in life was a significant cause, while 50% of white people agreed. While 72% of black people thought discrimination in recruitment and hiring could be a factor, only 27% of white people found they thought the statement held true. 62% of black people, 42 % of Hispanic people, and 44% of Asian people said they faced discrimination in their workplace, compared to 13% of white people.

The majority of black people who said they were discriminated against found that the primary cause for discrimination was being treated as less competent. And I would sympathize and agree with them. I came to Calvin to pursue a Bachelor’s degree in Biochemistry on the Pre-med track. I was going to become a pediatrician...even if it killed me. I had hoped Calvin would be different. Sadly, even here at Calvin, I have had instances where I found myself being treated as if my intelligence wasn’t on the same level as that of my peers. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I can try to break out of the box I’m in, it will always find a way to follow me.

Although this has happened, this isn’t always the case either. I have had amazing professors since I got to Calvin, professors that have encouraged me and challenged me while recognizing my background. I have friends who empathize with my struggle when I view statistics for medical school and become discouraged. And I am sure that there are other students have had better experiences and haven’t really experienced the subconscious burden. But we as a society have to realize that there is a deficit in STEM, one that, while decreasing, still has a significant gap. We cannot claim that institutionalized racism is behind us while we have deficits across demographic lines (race, gender, and socioeconomic status) that prevent the opportunity for equal access. Being able to recognize and understand is the first step to moving forward and coloring in the STEM lines.  

-Stellamarie Pobi, ABSL Natural Sciences and Mathematics Coordinator

Seek Justice // Listen, Learn, Love

StreetFest 2018 designed by Shannon Mack

When I created this theme for StreetFest this past June, I had no idea the impact it would have on my life. In fact, the process of making it was crazy, and this option wasn’t even on the table until two hours before I made the decision to use it. And yet, this theme has followed me throughout my senior year here at Calvin.

After being approached to write a blog post, I had some trouble coming up with what to talk about. Writing a piece on the theme was an idea given to me by multiple people in the office. One day, I jokingly said “why don’t we just post the print version of my speech? It has all my thoughts on the theme in it, and it can be posted tomorrow!” But after saying this, I realized that this just wasn’t true. My thoughts on the development of this theme are laid out in that speech, but this theme has continued to grow, and its point has changed for me as time has passed.

At the beginning, this theme was something of a hope for me; it laid out my dream for the day. This was something that would remind new students to think differently about words like justice and give them a new perspective on volunteering. All my thoughts about the impact of this theme were directed towards other people. But I think this has affected myself more than I ever expected it to affect others.

As a social worker, justice is a word I interact with a lot. In all my classes, we talk about what justice looks like, what it means to different people, and how to live in a just way. It wasn’t until after this theme was created that I realized just how central those three verbs are to justice. Obviously I thought they were important, but I have found myself thinking about listening, learning, and loving as important next steps when thinking about justice on all levels. I always thought about the importance of these verbs simply on a personal level, I did not even think about their place in combating structural, policy level injustice. Throughout this year however, I have come to realize that in order to achieve justice on all levels, listening to others, learning from them, and extending love to all groups are affected.

This theme has followed me not only in my course work, but in my continued work in the SLC. Each year the student staff of the SLC are tasked with writing a covenant for ourselves. This year’s covenant is titled “Listen, Learn, Love”, and it is a charge to ourselves to live out these verbs and a cry for forgiveness when we fail (which is often). It was never in my mind that these verbs would become such an integral part of the life of the office this year. But, because it is so involved in our office, I have been able to continue thinking about the impact this theme has on my life. If it wasn’t for reading that covenant each week, I don’t believe this theme would have such an impact on my thinking.

Because of the words “Seek Justice // Listen, Learn, Love” I think about those around me differently, I see injustice in a new light, listening is now a very active action, learning about others through their stories is something I am more passionate about, and extending love to those around me is a privilege. I recognize that there is no way true justice will reign while I am still here on this earth, but this is the beauty I have found in this theme in the last 6 months: we are not called to bring true justice, and God knows we cannot live out true justice, but we can do our best to seek justice while we are here. This is what I constantly remind myself of. Although I will never see what true justice looks like, I am called to do what I can to live out true justice in an effort to help bring it about.

Reading our covenant, talking about justice in my social work classes, and working in the community through my internship and service-learning all remind me daily that our world is broken, that I am broken, but that there is hope. I am so thankful that God placed these words on my heart, and that He continues to prove to me the importance of the verbs listen, learn, and love. I cannot wait to see where this theme follows me throughout my life, because it has already impacted me so much. My hope is that it will never leave me, and that I will continue to live out the call I gave to those new students back in August.

-Bri Rutgers, StreetFest Coordinator 2018, Transportation Coordinator

On Being "too American"

“They’re very American.” Recently someone used this phrase to describe me as a warning to an African student I had gone on a few dates with. It was a way to distinguish why the relationship would not work out, because I am American and they are not. Upon hearing this I was upset. Now I am wondering what is so hurtful about being called American. Why is this the phrase that was chosen to differentiate me from a non-American? Is it meant to insult me and all Americans? It brings to the forefront the stereotype of loud, ignorant, self-centered, entitled, and overall obnoxious American.

First, why is this a phrase to differentiate an American from a non-American? Are differences in Americans and non-Americans so great that they cannot find common ground? This discounts the possibility that both parties can listen and learn from the other. My American nationality does not erase my ability to understand another’s perspective but it does complicate it. I must consciously and constantly unlearn the falsehood that America is greater, that my job is to bring freedom to others, that the American dream is the only valid dream.

I believe a key to overriding one’s national lens, specifically the American lens, is to travel and to read books. Observing how people live in other countries allows one to see the way other societies function. It gives one the ability to view the weaknesses but more importantly the strengths. When returning from a trip, the lens I have in my country is then altered. The lens remains American but with a tinge of the knowledge of something else. When I studied in Honduras, we took the public bus 3 days per week. There were 20 Americans and some 40 Hondurans. The bus left at 8am so we were typically quiet but, frequently we were loud, speaking in heavily accented Michigan English. At first this didn’t strike me as particularly out of place, we were simply the only ones talking. After a few bus rides however, I noticed no other passengers talked quite as loud nor quite as often. The other passengers quietly awaited their stop and occasionally chatted softly with the person next to them. When I began to listen and not simply talk to my American friends, I noticed when elderly women would get on the bus and I was quicker to give up my seat. When I decreased my American volume, I felt ashamed that I did not notice it before. However, loud behavior is not exclusively American. When my host family would gather, they were quite loud. The difference was an awareness of when to be loud something I am still unlearning.

But travel is not possible for everyone so that leaves books. I have found that reading books written by non-white and/or non-American authors has also changed the lens I have. After listening to a TED talk by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, I felt challenged to read not only books that I enjoyed because they were relatable but to include books written by authors who were not white Americans. Books provide a way to peek into another viewpoint or culture. Through careful observation and reflection one can identify why the parts of books that feel unknown or uncomfortable feel that way. Often these books can unveil hidden prejudices to one’s own expectations for behavior, lifestyle, and approach to relationships. Recently I read Pride by Ibi Zoboi. The retelling of Pride and Prejudice is set in Brooklyn and centers around a young afro-latina who is struggling with the encroaching gentrification in her neighborhood. The protagonist, Zuri, is American but we do not share many experiences. While my high school experience was in a private school in the white suburbs of Chicago, Zuri attended a public school in her neighborhood. But even if we had grown up in the same neighborhood, we would have had starkly different experiences. While I cannot know her reality, by reading about her life I can see the beauty in her close-knit family and pride in her neighborhood. I can view from the opposite perspective how new “hip” restaurants in Eastown that I frequent and enjoy have chipped away at the essence of someone else’s home. I need to keep unlearning how something that is enjoyable for me can also be harmful.

Second, how is being too American an insult? My parents, grandparents, and great grandparents were all raised in the US. All my siblings are married to Americans. I am American because what else could I be? But I must constantly strive to unlearn the aspects I hate about being American such as an extreme egocentrism or having to look at a map when someone mentions a country in Asia or Africa or not being aware of politics in other countries. But then I begin to internally defend my character against the negative American stereotypes. I am not overly nationalistic or hateful of immigrants. Nor do I only eat fast food or love guns. But then I thought, how many Americans fall into all these categories? Could I lump all Americans into these groups? Of course not. Just like in no country are the stereotypes true of all people in that country. While they might hold truth, they do not define every individual in the country. But too often Americans do fall into the stereotypes assigned to them. America is not greater than everyone else. We do not have politics figured out. Our system of government is not without fault nor is it void of abuse and neglect. Our society is broken. The ideologies that are typical of Americans are the ones that all Americans must consistently unlearn.

Loud, ignorant, self-centered, entitled, and overall obnoxious. Are these words that describe me? Honestly, they do. I am often loud, I find myself thinking ignorant things, I think about myself and my needs more than others, and I too often forget that I don’t deserve 99% of what I have. These traps of American Exceptionalism often catch up to me.

Am I too American? Am I too American to date an African? Does my lack of geographical expertise make a relationship impossible? Will my global political ignorance be an impossible barrier? I don’t know.

I am very American. I am confident in who I am. I have a strong sense of self. These three statements are not inherently evil. But they can be when I allow my nationality to create a sense of superiority, my confidence to manifest as self-righteousness, and my sense of self as alienation of the other.

The Service-Learning Center’s covenant this year includes these three lines of repentance, “Forgive us when we listen to respond, rather than listen to understand…Forgive us when we choose comfort and ignorance over openness and growth…Forgive us when we fail to love, to fulfill our calling, when we exclude, when we forget.” As I continually fight to listen, learn, and love better, I ask for forgiveness when I fail. I ask for forgiveness when I live into the negative stereotypes of my nationality and I will continually seek to unlearn them.

-Juliana Stremler, Residence Hall Community Partnerships Coordinator

Re-Introduction

S-LC Spring 2018 Retreat

Just over two years later, the Service-Learning Center's blog has resurrected. The decision to bring back the S-LC blog was one that took some convincing on my part. As the Communications Coordinator, I handle all forms of communication for the S-LC including the weekly emails, social media, newsletters, and, now, the blog. It was born in 2008 and took a rest in 2016. I will admit, it was I who "laid it to rest" in the fall of 2017. But here we are! Back again! If I'm being candid, to me blogs were becoming a thing of the past. However, after much discussion last year with the staff about the voice of the Service-Learning Center and my own personal journey with my voice, we have decided to bring it back.

The blog was always a place for our student staff members to share their thoughts on current news, perspectives on tough experiences, reflecting on service-learning involvement, poetry, and anything else that best helps them express how they're feeling in relation to the work we are doing.

So, welcome. Welcome to our space of reflection. Welcome to our place for individual voices of the Service-Learning Center staff to be heard. Welcome to a dedicated spot for various thoughts and opinions. Welcome back.

-Emma Chung, Communications Coordinator

[the difference between we like to hear, and what we need to hear]

            In the most recent Presidential debate, viewers across the nation listened to insults and divisive rhetoric disguised as policy, not on the whole, but for the most part. What struck me as particularly interesting and I believe points to the phenomenon of this election cycle was a back and forth exchange between the candidates near the end of the debate. The question came from newly-minted internet sensation Ken Bone about energy policy and more specifically, how an energy policy in line with agreements such as the Paris Agreement won’t inadvertently leave behind employees in the fossil fuel industry.

            This question gets at the heart, at least it seems, of what much of the historically conservative demographic is addressing in this election and that is that they feel as though they are being left behind. Globalization, the booming tech industry, and a seemingly more-liberal nation is not only a threat to jobs and religion but a threat to a way of life.

            In March at a Town Hall in Columbus, Ohio, Democratic candidate Hillary Clinton said that, “we’re going to put a lot of coal miners and coal companies out of business.” Though she went on to say that the work needs to be done to help blue-collar workers adjust to the shift in the economy and that we must not leave these people behind, an age of soundbites and media sensationalism alters population perception of this quote. This choice of words was not only less than ideal, but it becomes way in which a portion of our population is ostracized and labeled outdated. These words, they remove people, people revered 50 years ago for their work as the backbone of America, from the future of this country. This is to say that when a man like Donald Trump comes along and promises them that not only will he return jobs but promise to re-create an America that they once knew it makes sense why one might support him.

            All this to say, we need to be clear about a few things. First, that America that Trump harks back to is an America that existed to serve a certain person and to seek to return to that is to run the risk of higher degrees of misogyny, racism, and law and order, all of which will create a country that serves a certain kind of person. Secondly, we must say out of love that the jobs in coal industries and in textile factories are not only not coming back but they are not the future. This is different from saying that ‘coal workers’ are not the future and drastically different from saying that a certain way of life is not the future, though this latter tidbit is more complicated for obvious reasons. Renewable energy that is in line with Obama’s energy policies and the Paris Agreement is ultimately the future of our energy industry. Young people in countries across the globe appear to be saying with a near unanimous voice that seeking to undo past wrongs and moving forward to limit environmental destruction is of critical importance – to invest heavily in non-renewable is not a step moving into the 21^st century.

            This brings us back to the workers in both coal and textile factories whom we associate with an America we’d rather forget and move forward via a clean break. Our future is their future and vice versa. What this means practically, I am unsure. I do know that it may in fact help us to begin to listen to each other and hear our neighbor’s burden. The truth is that many of our blue-collar workers have absolutely been left behind in an economy that has closed up shop and shifted jobs overseas. That is real, let us not downplay that reality. At the same time, we do not move forward by seeking a time warp to take us back to 1955. Those days are done. I have few solidified answers, but what I do know is that both our economy and country are changing and that a concrete plan for our workers in the Rust Belt and Appalachia to gain access to the renewable energy industry through education and job training is necessary. And perhaps even more necessary, they must know that they are not being left behind. They need to know that they have worth and that the labor of their hands makes them vital to future of our nation.

[untitled]

I would like it if you would walk with me for these for moments of your time that I have, and allow me to say something that I have yet to say in fullness of that which it deserves to be said. I have spent a lot of time in these past four months in tears and brokenness, trying to pick up the pieces from decisions I have made. Grappling with my utter inability to provide for myself in any meaningful psychological and spiritual way has been incredibly humbled. What I mean is that the answers that I have been seeking, those to fill the empty spaces, have been outside of myself and my attempts at insular self-realization to bring enlightenment in my life and overcome this angst and frustration has only amplified those feelings. I think it may be that insularity reinforces, or at very least maintains, the pain we feel because there is something very real about allowing your burdens to be carried by others.

            So it this, that I care to write: Thank you. To those over the past months have been, at the right time and moment, listened and pestered me when I refused, I am so grateful. My gratefulness extends as far as the support I have received; at no moment has anyone had to bear the burden of my mess, but friends and mentors have at their moment provided what was needed. To the mentor who reminded me that I wasn’t a failure, your words have not left me. To the friend who pestered me with piercing questions and unwavering conviction, you have loved me when I’ve been unable to reciprocate that outpouring of grace.

            I do not wish to downplay the difficulties that this time of transition has brought in my life, but let it be known that my life is not altogether challenging. I get to show up to two wonderful jobs in which we seek to live out the biblical mandate for justice, and during the evening, my life transitions to full-time student and I have the opportunity to learn at a place that Calvin where curiosity is encouraged. It is in these places that I have not only hung on this semester, but I think that I have truly been able to thrive.

            This has been a trying time in my life and have often felt lost. In being lost, I have experienced frightening vulnerability that has provided for me space to feel more alive than ever before. It has been a year of incredible moments of exhilaration and raucous laughter intertwined with thorns that cut deep and cause bleeding. Living faithfully in between the mess of exile and the jubilee of the restored city requires of me to avoid the optimism of human progress and the pessimism of human limitations, but rather work and wait in the dichotomy of hope and reality; a hope that doesn’t ignore the filth and a reality that will not remain in brokenness.