COLUMN: Serve Thy Neighbor

From Jennie Rosenbaum's "That Would Be Telling," Fall '93 From Jennie Rosenbaum's "That Would Be Telling," Fall '93Somewhere between the Bush and Clinton administrations, America woke up. America took a good look around and said, 'Hey, there's a lot of problems to fix here." Employers started to consider weekends spent at a soup kitchen more desirable in a candidate than a summer interning at Arthur Andersen. College admissions offices started looking for applicants with experience in service, called these children "leaders," and welcomed them into the hallowed halls of education as the hope of the future. High schools and universities started to consider instituting a community service requirement, calling it "The moral thing to do." Service is the gold card of the 1990's – it will get you where you want to go. But these enticements don't seem to be enough. Hundreds of students will graduate from Penn this year without having set foot in a shelter or hospital. Many will never have collected canned food or clothing for charity. Some schools require students to take writing courses, know a foreign language, or complete a senior project. Why, then, can't these schools also require that to graduate, these students just once do something for someone else? Materialism might not rule our lives like it did in the eighties, but the emphasis at this university is still on money. The DP's front page is all too often dedicated to how we need money to build the mythological Revlon Center, students get mailings asking them to donate to this Penn cause or that one, and everyone is worried about how much money they'll be making when they get out. Even our social lives revolve around money. You can't go to Murph's with your friends if you can't afford to buy a round. If you don't have the right J. Crew clothing, you won't be liked by the people you want to like you. Too many students come to Penn backed by Daddy's trust fund. They forgo gaining valuable work experience to watch soap operas and complain about how there's nothing to do around here. The rest of us are busy working our butts off so that one day, we can have too much money to notice the life that goes on without us. In the midst of all this self-centered concern, it is easy to forget that there are people who need our help and can't pay us in money for it. At this point in the column, some people are going to say, "But this doesn't apply to me. I've done tons of service in the name of brother/sisterhood." [Warning: this is the point where I target the social fraternities and sororities. Don't bother complaining; it's my last column and I can do what I want.] Ah, yes, the social fraternities and sororities. Who hasn't seen brothers in a hot tub on Locust Walk, or sisters sitting on a see-saw? There's the volleyball match by the button, the rocking chair...all those publicity stunts. While it's good that these organizations are raising money for charity in the name of philanthropy (Phil-AN-thro-py, Greek: "Rich people looking like they're doing service while making sure their hair stays in place"), let me ask you this: Has anyone seen these siblings doing any hands-on work? I have. At the Church of the Savior last year, I saw six sorority pledges lending a hand at the soup kitchen. And they looked miserable. So miserable, in fact, that one of the people I was serving asked me, "What's with them? They on Valium?" The DP is quick to plaster pictures of fraternity brothers taking kids to the zoo on the front page, but remember that these are one-time occurrences. Many organizations on campus perform valuable service to the community every week, and you've never heard a peep about them. Perhaps if the DP gave equal coverage to organizations such as Circle K, Habitat for Humanity, and the University City Hospitality Coalition, students would realize that they can donate some time each week and still go to Murph's on the weekends. Some schools have considered having students perform anywhere from 10 to 30 hours of service per semester. All I ask is that students donate one day – 24 hours – of their time to community service before they graduate. An average of six hours a year, three hours a term. In my fraternity, Alpha Phi Omega, brothers perform at least 20 hours of service a semester. Many do more. We do it because we want to. Since I realize that not everyone wants to do community service, I'm only suggesting three hours a term. One evening in a soup kitchen. A morning building low-income housing. An afternoon cleaning a neighborhood park. Hands-on work which lets you see the results and, in many cases, meet the people you're helping. The time will pass more quickly than you think. Twenty-four hours is enough time to go to a party, get drunk, fall down the stairs, be carried home, sleep for fourteen hours, wake up with a hangover, and puke. Wouldn't you rather spend the time helping people who need you? Jennie Rosenbaum is a senior Theater Arts and Comparative Literature major from Forest Hills, New York. That Would Be Telling appeared alternate Mondays.