COLUMN: "A Four Year Service Plan"

From Debra Pickett's "Studs In Strange Places," Spring '92. As I write this column, Bach's Brandenburg Concerto (number two) plays in the background, my herbal tea steeps in an art deco mug, and my tweed jacket lies, not quite casually tossed, upon my bed. And, if you must know, I happen to be wearing a blue oxford cloth Polo shirt. I'm not proud of this. As much as I hate to admit it, I am a preppy WASP from the suburbs. Were it not for the fact that I'm a chick, I would be "the man." Recently, I began working with students at University City High School. While in the hallways there, a line from Neil Young kept running through my head. "I don't feel like Satan, but I am to them." I've got my convictions, in the grand liberal tradition. Hell, I've got unshakable beliefs. What hit me, though, as I stood surrounded by West Philadelphia's high school students, is that my convictions don't mean a damn to them. And neither do yours. Because we're here. And they're not. Of course, we're all here learning about how to make the world a better place. The pre-med will heal the sick. Others will head to law school and someday fight for justice. The teachers, the nurses, the scientists, the business people -- they'll all help society in the future. Noblesse oblige, if you will. Not good enough. I propose that community service in Philadelphia be mandatory for Penn students. We must fufill distributional requirements in many areas. We are encouraged to become well-rounded and productive citizens. It's time to bite the bullet and acknowledge that belief and convictions aren't good enough, that the way to learn about the world is to be a part of it. It's not possible to hide in our ivory towers. The world -- the real, the non-selective, non-Ivy world -- is creeping in. The homeless are on our campus. Crime, with and all the other symptoms of urban frustration, is all around us. It's time to act, and to act as a university. Fantastic individual and group efforts have been made, but now it's time for more. It's time the administration recognizes that all of its good-natured political correctness is worthless when expressed in word, but not in deed. They've been counting on everyone "getting involved" out of the goodness of his or her own heart, but it just hasn't been enough. It's time to finally become a part of this "community" that we've been hearing so much about. It's time to take multiculturalism past the Walk, past even 40th and Market. It's time to require that, before graduation, each student has earned a certain number of credit hours by performing meaningful community service. Opportunities for service are all around us. It would not take much effort for the administration to provide students with a listing of volunteer organizations in the local area. It would not take much time, if each student went to work in West Philadelphia, for a real difference to be made. The hard part is getting started. We've put that off long enough. Community service is not something with which to pad your resume. It is not something to leave to the perky girl that lives down the hall. When you live in Philadelphia, it should not be an option. It's the debt you owe because you got lucky -- you got here. It is utterly hypocritical -- and, in fact, morally reprehensible -- to continue extolling the virtues of "community" while remaining aloof, in policy, from the Philadelphia community. Community service is messy. It's disturbing. When you get home, you stink. And you're pissed off. Because the world's an unfair place. · Debra Pickett is a freshman English major from Franklin Township, New Jersey. Studs in Strange Places appears alternate Mondays.