COLUMN: Just who is being served?

From Malik Wilson's, "RosZ," Fall '99 From Malik Wilson's, "RosZ," Fall '99Look at your life and all the things you have; now look at what others have only a few blocks away; you have a responsibility to help those who don't have as much as you." The statement seems understandable enough. Even noble enough. But the operant word is "have." As in, those who have tangible possessions help out those who don't. When you walk into a West Philadelphia classroom, each student knows the reason you are there: Not because you are nicer, not because you are cuter, not because you are a better citizen or more appreciative son or daughter. They realize that you are there because you have more money than they do. Money is an arbitrary measuring stick that we use to determine which communities will receive "community service." And the institution of "community service" -- however beneficent and non-malignant -- ultimately reaffirms the idea that the supremacy of resources is the main determinant of life value. But why should we define the worth of a given community in economic terms? Why not examine the number of suicides per 10,000 people? Why not the number of people using recreational drugs? Why not church attendance? At Penn, we give ourselves entrance to talk to students in West Philadelphia about "community health," but young women from West Philadelphia are not invited to Penn sororities to talk to women about body image, even though our rate of anorexia is 10 times higher. "Community service" must become a process of equal exchange, an activity of not just "going there," but of "coming here." Students from West Philadelphia should be allowed to attend classes at the University with the same regularity that Penn students attend classes in West Philadelphia schools. At present, on the rare occasions when a local high school student is allowed to attend a class at Penn, the subject is invariably The Urban Crisis or The Sociology of Urban Communities. That is equivalent to saying that Penn students should only participate in classes that specifically discuss the college experience. What we tell these students is that "your knowledge is only relevant in our world inasmuch as it specifically relates to our academic interest, only when our benevolent gaze turns to you." It follows that students from West Philadelphia have nothing to tell us about Shakespeare, about Franklin Roosevelt, about kinetics, about geography. We are to teach them everything from algebra to history, phys ed to proper speaking, yet they may only speak to us about the urban crisis. We walk boldly through the front door of their social and scholastic homes and ask them in return to reside in our servant's quarters. The idea that a 17-year-old man from West Philadelphia could never influence our view of William Shakespeare has everything to do with how we have already conceptualized him as existing outside of our discourse. Despite the best of intentions, "community service" still carries with it the faint smell of cultural colonialism. In saying that "we teach, but we also learn from them," we have already consigned ourselves to a paternalistic mindset. In saying that "community service will teach you how to be humble," we imply our own superiority but mask it in good manners. I am not arguing that community service should be curtailed. What I am arguing is that we must ask ourselves who is ultimately being served by our service. How ready are you for a lecture from a 14-year-old black girl about body image and self-perception? If you're not ready to listen to her, then why should she listen to you?