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A Blueprint for Public Scholarship at

Penn State

Jeremy Cohen and Lakshman Yapa

Editors

Laura M. Donnelly

Technical Editor

Developed for “A Blueprint for the Public Scholarship of Service Learning”

a summit at

The Pennsylvania State University

University Park, PA

March 29, 2003

This publication is available in alternative media on request.

The Pennsylvania State University encourages qualified persons with disabilities to participate in its programs and activ- ities. If you anticipate needing any type of accommodation or have questions about the physical access provided, please contact William Ritzman, at (814) 863-0471 in advance of your participation or visit.

The Pennsylvania State University is committed to the policy that all persons shall have equal access to programs, facil- ities, admission, and employment without regard to personal characteristics not related to ability, performance, or quali- fications as determined by University policy or by state or federal authorities. It is the policy of the University to main- tain an academic and work environment free of discrimination, including harassment. The Pennsylvania State University prohibits discrimination and harassment against any person because of age, ancestry, color, disability or handicap, national origin, race, religious creed, sex, sexual orientation, or veteran status. Discrimination or harassment against fac- ulty, staff, or students will not be tolerated at The Pennsylvania State University. Direct all inquiries regarding the nondiscrimination policy to the Affirmative Action Director, The Pennsylvania State University, 328 Boucke Building, University Park, PA 16802-2801; Tel 814-865-4700/V, 814-863-1150/TTY.

UGE 03-27

The editors of A Blueprint for Public Scholarship at Penn State University wish to thank and to acknowledge Pennsylvania Campus Compact, the Corporation for National and Community Service, and The Pennsylvania State University Office of Undergraduate Education for their finan- cial support, which has enabled faculty, staff, and students to share their public scholarship reflec- tions in the pages that follow. The editors also express gratitude to Laura Donnelly, who, as a grad- uate student in Penn State’s College of Communications, provided a tireless professional contribu- tion as technical editor, copy editor and gentle critic; to faculty member Tim Robinson in the College of Earth and Mineral Sciences for his assistance with the cover graphics; and to staff assis- tant Sarah Aumiller, whose organizational and administrative skills are a source of continuing sup- port for the Public Scholarship Associates, students, and community members involved in this proj- ect.

The March 29, 2003 Summit, A Blueprint for the Public Scholarship of Service Learning, is indebt- ed to Penn State’s Office of Undergraduate Education, Office of Educational Equity, Office of Student Affairs, Schreyer Honors College, Schreyer Institute, and Public Scholarship Associates, and to Pennsylvania Campus Compact and the Corporation for National and Community Service for their assistance on behalf of civic engagement and scholarly contribution, and to conference coordinator and Schreyer Honors College staff member Jodi Vender.

Graduate student Amanda Kundrat brought a thoughtful and optimistic vitality to Penn State’s public scholarship and community-based learning. Her untimely passing brings sadness to everyone who knew her, but also a sense of resolve to continue the contributions to community, colleagues, students and family that she so freely shared.

Acknowledgements

Jeremy Cohen Lakshman Yapa University Park, Spring 2003

Jeremy Cohen Lakshman Yapa

Introduction: What is Public Scholarship?

In the fifteen essays that follow faculty, student affairs pro- fessionals, and students offer their reflections on public scholarship at Penn State University.

Public scholarship is a way of describing an approach to what we do, as members of an academic community. Public scholarship incorporates recognition of the obligations implicit in that membership: a duty to develop civic engage- ment among students with an eye on why, as well as on how; a responsibility to focus discovery and creative performance on the social, civic, economic, educational, artistic and cul- tural well-being of the neighborhoods beyond the academy, as well as on basic research and disciplinary teaching; and the development of a “curriculum of consequence” in which the conduct of public scholarship provides a means through which students and faculty can view their work not as the isolated, self-indulgent actions of a campus segregated from society, but as the contributions of scholar-citizens with membership in a larger community.

Many scholars, including some of those writing in this volume, point to the mission or duty of universities to edu- cate students for democracy. Where does such a duty origi- nate?ii Is it an element of scholarship? Does the obligation find meaningful expression beyond the relatively small choir of voices engaged in academic public service? Public schol-

arship emerges as a rationale response to the intersection of democratic theory and learning theory. However, Thomas Ehrlich, a founder of Campus Compact, former president of Indiana University, former dean of Stanford University Law School, and now a distinguished scholar at San Francisco State University, has written: “The development of moral and civic character in students is not a goal on the radar screens of most colleges and universities – except as a matter of pub- lic relations rhetoric.” iii A study published just weeks ago developed by the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching suggests that while many agree with Ehrlich’s goals for teaching moral and civic responsibility, few institu- tions have made significant strides. iv

Are there ways to promote a curriculum of consequence and active learning in which faculty and students imagine their courses and research not as disengaged segments of an unrelated set of skills connected by such vague terms as major, minor, discipline and sequence, but as opportunities for students to engage their developing academic talents meaningfully? Can we place experiences such as this into a context in which students can picture their academic capacity as a means to contribute as citizen participants in a commu- nity structure in which their intellectual decisions do make a difference?

Anew conceptualization and practice of knowledge called public scholarship is emerging atPenn State and other institutions of higher learning. Rooted in service and service learning tra- ditions, public scholarship incorporates several educational practices, such as volunteerism, experien-

tial learning, civic engagement, and reflection.i And it does more. Public scholarship is the applica-

tion of scholarship by faculty and students in their teaching and learning, research, and service to the

civic, cultural, artistic, social, economic, and educational needs of the community.

The desire nationally to involve students in the health of the community beyond the classroom is evidenced by the growth of service learning projects and, less frequently, the offering of service learning courses. Additionally, tens of thousands of students participate annually in volunteer serv- ice activities. Yet, warns Lee Schulman, President of the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, effective learners are not merely active, “because activity alone is insufficient for learning.” Crediting John Dewey, Schulman offers a principle that reflects effective teaching and learning as well as the “citizen centered” values of the First Amendment. “We do not learn by doing,” Schulman writes, “We learn by thinking about what we are doing.” v

The corollary is that students do not master the civic engage- ment of their university scholarship by volunteering to regis- ter voters or tutor children. They learn the integration of scholarship and civic engagement when faculty, student affairs professionals, members of the community, and student peers help them to reflect in ways that identify relationships between the scholarly work they carry on, and the world out- side.

A strong case for public scholarship can be also made by drawing on the work of post-modern philosophers such as Michel Foucault, Jacques Derrida, and Richard Rorty who have written about the role of discourse and language in con- structing our understanding of the world we live in. Conventional science assumes that the world exists in an objective manner outside discourse. It assumes that the world is reflected in science as if it were an image in a mir- ror. Contrary to that, postmodern philosophers argue that the world we know is actually constructed through discourse. If indeed the world we know is discursively constructed then that world cannot exist independent of discourse. In particu- lar our discourses become constituent elements of the very social problems we wish to address such as poverty and racism. Several important pedagogic consequences follow immediately from that contrary view. For example, engage- ment with the community should be viewed not simply as a by-product of knowledge. Such engagement becomes an integral part of how new knowledge is generated. So the postmodern argument implies that public scholarship is essential to “what we teach” and “how we research” in the university in the first place (See the article by Yapa in this volume for an example and elaboration of this view).

Public Scholarship at Penn State Many at Penn State are beginning not only to talk about

public scholarship, but to bring a coherence as they practice it within the tenets suggested above through a framework grounded in disciplined elements of scholarship, that is: work that is peer reviewed; work that is shared and available to others; work that recognizes – whether to challenge or to build upon — the methods and bodies of knowledge that underlie and certify scholarly authenticity. For some, in fact, taking their teaching and research out of the classroom and

into the community has generated new perspective and raised significant questions about some long held academic assump- tions.

Broadly defined, public scholarship at Penn State is the application of the discovery and creative performance gener- ated by faculty and students in their teaching and learning, research, and service, to the civic, social, cultural, economic, educational and artistic well-being of the community. Public scholarship is not only important, but also central to Penn State’s identity, goals, and the land-grant mission as it recog- nizes relationships between the academic campus and the public sphere; and among students’ academic mastery and their social and civic development.

Faculty at Penn State, including those whose essays fol- low, are using the term “public scholarship,” rather than serv- ice learning, to emphasize the importance of scholarship in the civic engagement enterprise and to insist upon academic, that is, scholarship-based service protocols in which students learn by reflecting on the relationships between their aca- demic discovery and their civic engagement. Recognizing public scholarship as an element of professional academic activity that is subject to peer review, to disciplinary integri- ty, and to intellectual rigor enables faculty to embrace it, to evaluate it, to reward it, and to add it to the reservoir of available teaching and research methods. Treating civic par- ticipation as an occasion when students can apply their schol- arship removes the negative elements of service provider/service receiver, replacing them with the potential for deep learning that achieves a full spectrum of university goals.

In 1999 a group of Penn State faculty, administrators, and students submitted a formal proposal for creating a formal program of public scholarship at our university. The propos- al contained five recommendations:

n Recruitment of an active group of faculty, student affairs staff, and students to nurture public scholarship initiatives though shared reflection and scholarship and the development of interdisciplinary initiatives;

n Creation of regular formative opportunities for indi- viduals interested in public scholarship participation;

n A timely follow-up on financial development oppor- tunities;

n Commitment to a Penn State center or institute to foster the practice of scholarship though public service and service learning in teaching, research and service; and

n The sharing of public scholarship teaching, research and service within our own academic community in ways that recognize its scholarly basis for purposes of professional development as well as for tenure and promotion and salary recognition of performance.

The Office of Undergraduate Education at Penn State

acted quickly to execute the first two recommendations with the appointment of five Public Scholarship Associates. Subsequently, the number of Public Scholarship Associates was expanded to nearly forty.

Monthly public scholarship luncheons now create a semi- nar atmosphere in which to test ideas and identify issues. There are few surprises. Untenured faculty place their careers at risk unless their work is viewed as scholarship within the tenure paradigm. Colleagues outside the Public Scholarship Associates remain skeptical that service learning is, in and of itself, a means to conduct scholarship central to university mission. The standards of scholarship employed in service efforts must be very clear as, lacking a strong con- stituency, public service may not be afforded the benefit of the doubt.

The naming of Public Scholarship Associates was a step toward creating an identifiable academic community one in which faculty and student affairs professionals have been invited to work in a new community-university public service alliance. The creation of Public Scholarship Associates bestowed a sense of institutional legitimacy to the people who are striving to broaden a grass roots constituency for promoting public scholarship, both within the university and beyond.

There continues to be a felt need among Penn State’s Public Scholarship Associates for a an institutionalized, phys- ical presence. Successful public scholarship relationships among communities require at the least, on-going faculty development and support and a contact point for community members – assurance in word and practice, if you will, that forays into the community are not simply from one more scholar collecting data and offering little in return to those she studies. Antonio, Astin & Cressvi identified the physical presence of an on-campus service learning center as vital to faculty service learning participation. If the Public Scholarship Associates comprise a virtual foundation, a cen- tralized program of academic service support at Penn State would provide the flooring necessary to sustain on-going benefits to the entire community.

We have placed the papers that follow in four groups. The first group contains a single paper by Waddell providing a student perspective on public scholarship. It is a very elo- quent and personal testimony to how experiential learning made a big difference to the Penn State education of at least one student. The second group titled, “Extending the curricu- lum through public scholarship” contains papers by Eberly, Grobman and others, Parker and Walker, Radomsky, and Stratton. Each describes an existing course in the university that greatly benefited students by adding a service-learning component to it. The paper by Professor Eberly draws on a course she taught at the University of Texas before she came to Penn State. The third group is titled, “Community devel- opment partnerships.” Baptiste, Dennis, Riley and Workman, Vender, and Yapa each describe an off-campus course devel- oped primarily for the purpose of public scholarship to be

conducted through a university-community partnership. Baptiste and Vender describe courses conducted abroad. Dennis and Yapa describe off-campus urban experiences in the United States. Riley describes a course on home con- struction in a native Indian reservation. The remaining papers were grouped into a category called “Building institu- tions.” Birge talks about the role of the Pennsylvania Campus Compact in promoting public scholarship by funding university courses with a service-learning component. Carter describes the importance of personal responsibility and its place in a public scholarship culture. Rios describes a univer- sity community partnership being created in the Belmont neighborhood of West Philadelphia. Uhl’s paper talks about a course that conducted an audit of the ecological sustainabil- ity of the Penn State physical environment with respect to energy use and generation of waste. The final intent of the course was to change the way the university conducts itself by holding it accountable to the principles of sustainable use of resource. The university is itself a community and, as such, no less an important environment in which its members – students included – have an obligation to bring their schol- arship to bear on the daily commerce of its operation. Civic engagement close to home is legitimate service and may help some who are otherwise tempted to ride into others’ communities on metaphorical white charges to recognize that social contribution is more complicated than a text book hypothesis. Carter and Webster/Flanagan provide a fitting final essay in this collection—not the last word, we hope, but a succinct statement of the importance of the civic engage- ment and public scholarship goals that have brought the Public Scholarship Associates into a community of

scholars.!

REFERENCES i E. L. Boyer, Scholarship Revisited: Priorities of the Professorate. Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching. 1990; J. Cohen, “Learning the scholarship of teach- ing in doctorate-granting institutions,” Journalism & Mass Communication Educator 51(4) (1997): 27-38.; C. E., Glassick, M. T. Huber & G. I. Maeroff, Scholarship Assessed: Evolution of the Professoriate. (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1977); P. Hutchings, ed. Making teaching com- munity property: a menu for peer collaboration and peer review. (Washington D.C.: American Association for Higher Education, 1996); R. J. Menges, M. Weimer & Associates, Teaching on Solid Ground: Using Scholarship to Improve Practice. (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1996); L. Schulman, “Teaching as community property: putting an end to peda- gogical solitude,” Change (1996): 6-7.; L. Schulman, “Professing the liberal arts,” in Education and Democracy: Re-imagining Liberal Arts in America, ed. R. Orrill (New York: The College Board, 1997): 151-173. ii J. Cohen, “Shouting fire in a crowded classroom: from

Holmes to homeroom” in Communication, A Different Kind of Horse Race: Essays Honoring Richard F. Carter, ed. B. Dervin and S. Chaffee. (Peekskill, NJ: Hampton Press, 2003) (in press). iii T. Ehrlich, “Civic and moral learning,” About Campus (1999): 5-9. iv A. Colby, T. Ehrlich, E. Beaumount, & J. Stephens, Educating Citizens: Preparing America’s Undergraduates for Lives of Moral and Civic responsibility. (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2003). v Schulman, “Professing the liberal arts,” 165. vi A. Antonio, H. Astin & C. Cress, “Community Service and Higher Education: A Look at the Nation’s Faculty,” Review of Higher Education 22 (4) (2000): 373-398.

Jeremy Cohen ([email protected]) is associate vice provost for Undergraduate Education and professor of communica- tion. Lakshman Yapa ([email protected]) is professor of geogra- phy.

Ashley Waddell

Potential to Proactive: How Public Scholarship

Empowered One Student

In my first year I was president of my residence hall, pledged a sorority, and became an Air Force ROTC cadet. Classes and learning intrigued me: as a first-generation col- lege student I had entered into a world that I never knew existed. However, even my sharp hunger for knowledge began to dull as I looked for the connection between what I was studying and real life, coming up short of a good answer every time. I gave someone else the hall presidency, stopped going to sorority functions, and decided to leave the ROTC program, opening up my schedule to my newest bright ideas: to be a THON moraler,i to study abroad a year “early,” and to petition to get into the Schreyer Honors College. THON proved to be an amazing experience, but it still failed to legitimize the course work I was currently slaving over.

While all my friends were waiting until junior year to apply to study Spanish in Spain, I found just what I was looking for in a study abroad brochure for social work in the Dominican Republic during the spring of freshman year. I applied right away, even though the academic prerequisites required me to cleverly orchestrate a level-skip in Spanish in order to make the cut-off. I put all my hopes in a sophomore acceptance into the Honors College, only to dangerously risk

my grades during the 2001 HUB-Robeson Center sit-in that occurred during finals week.ii But the sit-in was something I believed in; it was my philosophy class in action. That was the first time I was able to draw a parallel between theory and life, and it invigorated me.

Sophomore fall was a season of changes in my life. I was now an Honors scholar, the stigmatized Greek “disaffiliate,” juggling three jobs and 17 credits, and more lost in the crowd than I was on move-in day of the previous year. I still had never heard the words “public scholarship” or “service learn- ing,” and my fervor was on the wane. Looking back, I see that I was not alone as a zealous, eager student who missed the messages of service opportunities and “fell through the cracks” in the advising system, despite my frequent visits to advisors and professors. My hope is that in the future, a net- work of hands-on classes in many disciplines will be avail- able and advertised as a must-do for all students. As it turns out, it only took one activity that coupled with coursework to virtually give meaning to everything about my college expe- rience. This is the type of experience that every student should have, well before his or her fourth semester, to moti- vate the unmotivated or distracted and to impassion the

Iwas one of 5,000 excited freshmen at Penn State in the fall of 2000, ready to startliving a “real life,” to be an active member of my society and, of course, to save the world. I was open to everything, and tried anything that came my way as I

searched for classes and activities that I could be passionate about, that were more

than just reading assignments and homework problems, social events or weekly

meetings. I was anxious and impatient to reach out.

already motivated. Nothing but overwhelmingly positive results can come from an experience that demonstrates the relevance and necessity of every theory and case study, of every equation and every project.

I was the first Penn State student to participate in the Santo Domingo Council Program, and was given ample warning of the difficulties and inconveniences that I could expect to find there. My discouragers did not realize the intense desire I had for just that type of challenge, the kind that is hands-on, experiential, outside of the classroom. During my first weeks in the Dominican Republic I was overwhelmed by the complete autonomy that I was given, expected to fight my way through the city alone in public transport cars with my limited and slow Spanish. Even the complete immersion did not keep me from resorting to English when I could, and for seeking out bilinguals in my all-Dominican classes as a crutch in the language.

However, all of that changed the day I began my service internship, when it was just me and the street boys, commu- nicating on corners, in alleys, and sometimes through the bars of disgusting jail cells where they were unjustly held. Suddenly my first priority was to be able to speak to these boys fluently, not as a faltering American who to them was as good as a Martian, but as a friend, in their own lingo and with their accent. I became passionate about perfecting the language and spent at least six hours a day poring over books as well as talking to anyone who would listen to me, and for as long as they would listen! The words politics, policy, lit- erature, media, law, psychology, sociology, bureaucracy, community development, public awareness, international cooperation, statistics, and philosophy jumped off the pages into my mind and coursed with lifeblood—everything was relevant, important, in fact vital for the mission that had taken over my heart and mind: that of helping the boys and the organization that acted as their advocate.

It was like the veil had been torn away. No matter how many examples and compelling case studies I had read in classes to put real-life scenarios to what I was learning, noth- ing had the dramatic and instant effect on me like personal experience. I realized that my high GPA was not sufficient, and that completing what was assigned to me fell hopelessly short of really preparing myself to step out into a situation like the one I was observing. I would have to become a proactive student, passionate about every class I chose to take and earnest to search out ways to expand my knowledge and academic experience. I got a taste of “the real world” while still in college, and it changed my life.

When I left Niños del Camino and Santo Domingo, I finally possessed what I had been searching for: not only an inspiration to dive into the books and to share my enthusiasm with others, but an opportunity—a mandate, in fact—to become an active and important member of society, of a world community that was going to be better because I was a part of it. I am clearly not alone with regard to my enlight- ening experience. After introducing myself to Dr. Jeremy

Cohen in an effort to promote a public scholarship class about children in developing countries that would compli- ment the new student group I founded to financially support both Niños del Camino and UNICEF, we planned a short- notice student meeting for those interested in promoting serv- ice learning and public scholarship at Penn State. In the blink of an eye, more than thirty students appeared, along with some graduate students and professors. Most of them were there because they knew intimately the impact that civic engagement has on one’s education, as they had had the unique opportunity to participate in “service learning” classes previously.

I can only imagine the explosive results that would follow a program that offers every first-year student, bursting with potential and enthusiasm, the opportunity to put their hands into the “real world” and their hearts into making a better community through public scholarship opportunities at Penn State. We would surely be raising an army of proactive, energetic learners that would begin by shaping their own educations and end by transforming their world as engaged citizens and professionals. Public scholarship is the match that strikes the flame of impassioned scholarship and respon- sible citizenship into being; it illuminates the direct parallels between the classroom and life and empowers young citizens by showing them that the tools to make their world a better

place are in their hands… already. !

REFERENCES i Penn State Dance Marathon is an annual university-wide philanthropy to benefit Hershey Medical Center’s “Four Diamonds Fund” to fight pediatric cancer. It is a 48-hour dance marathon and “moralers” are assigned to two dancers each to keep them on their feet for the 2-day event. ii Protest initiated by Black Caucus to move PSU administra- tion, organized spontaneously by “The Village” from April

24th to May 3rd 2001. See http://www.geocities.com/psuvillage/ for more information.

Ashley Waddell ([email protected]) is an undergraduate student in comparative literature.

Rosa A. Eberly

Classrooms as Protopublic Spaces: Teaching and Learning

Participatory Democracy

At Penn State, the Commonwealth’s Land Grant University, these questions should be central to our sense of what we do and how we do it, day in and day out. In what follows I’ll offer yet another way we might think about pub- lic scholarship by using as points of departure three of my areas of scholarly expertise – publics theory, public memory, and rhetoric.

Because I am new to Penn State (“new,” at least, as a fac- ulty member – my B.A. and Ph.D. carry the Penn State seal), I will draw on my experiences both here and at the institution where I spent the last eight years, The University of Texas at Austin. As a graduate student in rhetoric at Penn State, I first made the connection between classroom practices and delib- erative democracy when I taught English 15, English 202, and English 421, classes that encouraged students to do research and deliberate together about public problems. At Texas I was able in my undergraduate teaching to see those connections manifested in ways that brought not only under- graduate students a robust sense of public agency but also UT itself some needed institutional change. Now, back at Penn State, I am very enthusiastic about the possibilities of a Penn State-wide approach to public scholarship – an initia-

tive that promises to put academic rigor and care to the serv- ice of our communities, our Commonwealth, and our wider, shared polity.

The Public Scholarship initiative has the potential to make plain — across the university and to wider publics — the powerful consequences that follow when teaching, research, and service are understood as complementary rather than antagonistic. Just as important, public scholarship pro- grams can help students learn the habits of participatory democracy, even in the face of cultural pressures that, inten- tionally or not, construct them as mere spectators and con- sumers rather than as active, eloquent citizens who have the skills and power to work collaboratively to improve their shared worlds.

An increasing array of scholars and commentators from a wide variety of disciplines and political perspectives agree that young people are feeling increasingly disenfranchised from public life and that feelings of powerlessness can lead to destructive and even violent behavior. The poor quality of our public discourses and civic practices endanger our democracy. The work of Robert Putnam, Malkin Professor of Public Policy at Harvard, has been widely recognized as

What are the connections between our teaching and learning practices on cam-pus and the quality of our democracy? How might the communication practices students learn during their undergraduate years, both inside and outside of

their classes, be re-imagined to help create and sustain a more vibrant – and more

civil – democracy? And how can universities serve as good examples of public dis-

course – rather than just public relations – working in common cause with citizens

to improve our democracy?

establishing that Americans are currently less involved in public life than in previous generations. Further, as Michael X. Delli Carpini and Scott Keeter have argued in their book What Americans Know About Politics and Why It Matters, democracy as practiced in late capitalism is marked by “political institutions and processes designed to allow citi- zens to have a voice in their own governance, while at the same time limiting the impact of that voice.” Yet, Delli Carpini and Keeter continue, the condition of our public life “is neither inevitable nor benign. Rather, it results from sys- tematic distortions in the development and practice of democracy in America. And it results in substantial inequali- ties in who participates, in how effective their participation is, and in who benefits from the actions of their govern- ment.”

Definitions of citizenship have varied over time. In his book The Good Citizen: A History of American Civic Life, Michael Schudson argues that citizenship in the United States has proceeded through four distinct eras. During the era of the founders, politics operated by the personal authori- ty of “gentlemen” and through a politics of assent. In the nineteenth century, the development of political parties her- alded a politics of affiliation. Mass democracy in the first three-fourths of the twentieth century “celebrated the private, rational ‘informed citizen’ that remains the most cherished ideal in the American voting experience today.” Schudson concludes that “We require a citizenship fit for our own day.”

Since ancient times, the connection between education and citizenship has been a central concern. While higher education is often understood as training for a specific area of expertise, the university also has a duty to equip graduates to be eloquent and active citizens of their communities and of the globe. Public higher education in critical citizenship serves the public interest by educating students in the skills and practices of civic engagement while at the same time taking seriously, as DelliCarpini and Keeter argue, structural analyses of political economies that offer students and other citizens few opportunities to use what skills they may by chance acquire.

As the late Robert T. Oliver of Penn State wrote more than three decades ago in The History of Public Speaking in Pennsylvania, “For a variety of reasons the people of Pennsylvania have unduly neglected to develop or to value the public discussion of the issues which have vitally affect- ed their welfare. Divisiveness has marked the state from ear- liest times – between the English-Quaker east and the Scots- Irish-Presbyterian west; between the agricultural, mining, and manufacturing segments; between the Pennsylvania Dutch, the Polish, the Irish, and the other clannish groupings…. As a concomitant of this tendency, there has been little concerted effort either to promote the teaching of speech in the schools or to provide for public forums adequate to air their statewide problems.” Compounded by current demographic realities in Pennsylvania – four of the seven most racially segregated cities in the U.S. are within the Commonwealth –

Penn State has compelling reasons to find ways to provide students opportunities to communicate across differences, to work together to common purpose, and to become active citi- zens who embrace a shared future. Imagining undergraduate classrooms as protopublic spaces – spaces where students can learn the practices and habits of active citizenship and then take those beyond the curriculum to wider communities – is yet another way to provide those opportunities.

Given recent riots on college campuses, which further suggest that students and other young citizens lack a sense of how to affiliate productively in public, these questions have a clear exigency for Penn State and other colleges and univer- sities across the country. How might the undergraduate experience at Penn State help students learn to communicate together across differences, to affiliate with common pur- pose, and to learn the habits and practices of civic engage- ment on which our democracy depends?

These are some of the questions that led me back to my alma mater, buoyed by my experiences working for The University of Texas at Austin’s Division of Rhetoric and Composition, an academic unit in which scholarship and undergraduate teaching were understood as complementary rather than antagonistic.

At Texas, two activities speak most directly to what I hope to achieve, in collaboration with students, faculty, administrators, and community members, with the new Center for Civic Engagement at Penn State. First, as director of the Undergraduate Writing Center at UT, I met with facul- ty from across the university to help them bring public issues of interest to their students into their classrooms in order to help students foster a sense of themselves not only as sub- ject-specific experts but as citizens who can facilitate public discussion of controversies surrounding their areas of expert- ise. I worked with faculties from the Plan II honors program to The School of Nursing to the College of Fine Arts, learn- ing from them about what public issues were most pressing in their fields and facilitating their work to help their under- graduates’ voices play a role in public discussions of those issues of common concern.

In addition to my work in the writing center, I taught an undergraduate rhetoric course that changed not only my life but the lives of many of my students; in the estimation of some of my colleagues who had been at UT for many years, the course also changed the university’s collective sense of its history and future.

The course, “The UT Tower Shootings and Public Memory,” offered students the opportunity to learn together about the events of Aug, 1, 1966, when an armed student climbed to the top of the Tower and fired randomly for 90 minutes, killing fourteen people and injuring more than thir- ty. The first public mass murder in the world, the tower shootings led to the development of SWAT teams and other public safety measures. The magnitude of the shootings made the Texas Tower synonymous not with academic achievement but, for more than a generation, with “the bell

tower boy” — an all-American Eagle Scout and former Marine who took his frustrations out through then-unimagin- able violence on those around him. Students had heard tales and legends about the shootings from their parents or grand- parents, seen references in movies and on the web. But UT steadfastly ignored this chapter in its history, at least publicly, because, in the words of one university police officer, “the university just wished the whole thing would go away.”

More important than collaboratively piecing together the facts of Aug. 1, 1966, however, the course gave students the opportunity to deliberate together about the causes of the shootings, how the shootings had been remembered through various means – individual memory, institutional memory, and cultural texts, to name just a few – what had caused the shooter to become a cultural antihero while his victims and their families were largely forgotten, and, perhaps most importantly, processes of forgiveness and reconciliation. All of these questions became even more exigent during the spring of 1999, when students came to class one afternoon and logged onto the web to watch and listen as the Columbine High School shootings shocked the world. The face-to-face conversations we had that day enabled students to engage with the tragedy at Columbine not just as specta- tors but as concerned citizens with a shared history and a shared stake in a shared – and troubled – world. The amount of self-motivated public writing and speaking the students generated that semester changed the contours of local discus- sions about Columbine, about the Tower, about gun violence, about trauma, and about forgiveness.

As early as the first semester that I offered the course, stu- dents started to intervene through speech and writing in the processes of institutional and public memory. While films like “Full Metal Jacket” and “Pulp Fiction” offered refer- ences to the Tower shooter and websites celebrated the “cruel, cool accuracy” of his sharp-shooting, students noticed that the consequences of his violence were absent from pub- lic, institutional, and cultural memory. This fact became clear to the students when, after the course was publicized in Texas Monthly, several survivors of the shootings wrote to me and asked to come to class to talk about their memories of that day thirty years earlier. Because these survivors had never been contacted by the university about the shootings, they said they had never had a chance to tell their stories in a setting where their pain might make a difference.

After hearing from several survivors and witnesses, a group of students developed a website as a perpetual educa- tional memorial to the victims of the shootings. That website has become a primary resource for journalists and others who want to learn about the shootings and the consequences of violence; it has also become a model for web-based memori- als of tragic campus events. Rather than being satisfied with the comfortable, disinterested stance of spectators, these stu- dents researched and learned collaboratively, talked and argued together, using their powers of reasoning, speech, and writing – the powers of rhetoric – to intervene as active citi-

zens concerned about their shared world. They learned that their words and deeds mattered, and – based on what I still hear from many of my students – these experiences continue to inform their sense of themselves as active agents in their communities, states, and nations.

Among the remarkable stories that surround the Tower course, however, the university’s decision to reopen the observation deck of the Tower to the public in September 1999 and to memorialize the victims of the shootings are per- haps the most institutionally significant. Closed to the public since 1975, after the eighth suicide from the top of the Tower, the observation deck was, before the 1966 shootings, long a favorite site for dates and family visits. That mishaps about which the university felt unremitting shame would so rede- fine UT’s primary icon seemed unimaginable, but that had come to be the case. The university so repressed what had become of the beautiful views from the observation deck that cynical humor was one of the few means people had to com- municate about the Tower within the institution. One of my students found, on the Admissions website and under a pic- ture of the Tower, the following caption: “This is the jumping off point for information about applying to the University.” When the student queried the webmaster, the text was delet- ed, but the student never received a reply.

As students learned to their dismay when they tried to gain access to the observation deck for their class projects, only visiting dignitaries and football recruits were allowed to visit the observation deck of the Tower after 1975. Students and alumni had lobbied the administration off and on during the 1980s and 1990s to reopen the observation deck of the Tower. As late as 1998, however, senior administrators said the deck would never reopen, arguing that the risk to public safety remained too great. Yet the student-written proposals continued, unabated. Undergraduate students wanted to reclaim, in the words of the title of a magazine that one sec- tion of the Tower class created and published, “Our Tower.”

When Larry Faulkner became president of UT in 1998 he made reopening the observation deck a priority, arguing – as many students had argued in letters to the administration over the years – that the university had to reclaim its central sym- bol and make it safe for the public. While I do not have sta- tistics to support this claim, my colleagues and students have persuaded me that the course played a central role in chang- ing the discursive context of the university’s institutional memory. No longer was talking about the Tower and its complicated histories of violence and suicide forbidden. Communicating together about what had happened was, in fact, the only way to attempt to move beyond it.

The lessons of the Tower course – which were not easy to teach by any means, but which my students consistently requested that I continue to offer as an educational memorial – suggest what undergraduate students can do with their col- laborative research when they are empowered to intervene in public issues. Those lessons are central to the fate of democ- racy in the twenty-first century as our wider culture suggests

that communication is necessary and useful only for profes- sional purposes and that consuming can stand in for citizen- ship.

Democracy requires informed and reasonable yet passion- ate voices of all kinds, willing and able to speak freely for positive change. Shouldn’t our classrooms be a central means for students to learn – through reasoning, speaking, and writing collaboratively – to carry the practices and habits of participatory democracy into and beyond the twenty-first

century? v

Rosa A. Eberly ([email protected] ) is an associate pro- fessor, Communication Arts and Sciences and English, and director of the Center for Civic

Laurie Grobman with

Jeremie Albert, Jamie Behun, Carolyn Blake, Melissa Frill, Meghan Houser and Laura Lawfer

Reciprocal Relationships: Public Scholarship and Multicultural Literature

PAL is an organization providing recreational, educational, vocational, and counseling programs to economically disadvan- taged children and youth.Students in English 135S read and studied multicultural literature and led group literature/litera- cy sessions with children and adolescents at the Police Athletic League. The project brought students into the real world of multiculturalism in conjunction with their study of literature and was thus a form of genuine inquiry and active learning.

Involvement of Penn State Students Students in English 135S worked in teams with PAL

children or teens on a weekly basis for nine weeks. They were able to establish relationships with the children and serve as mentors and role models. During their weekly ses- sions at PAL, students led discussions of stories and worked with children on literacy and math skills. Students spent every Friday class period preparing for their sessions with PAL children. Their written work consisted of weekly reflec- tive, critical journals relating the issues of multiculturalism and literature to the service experiences. The collaborative research project encouraged students to engage more deeply

some of the issues raised throughout the semester. For exam- ple, topics ranged from studying cultural difference to ques- tions of poverty and privilege to whether and how public scholarship at PAL related to their literary and multicultural education in English 135S.

Because students are absolutely integral to public scholar- ship, I have chosen to let my students speak for themselves about their involvement with the project. With their consent, I am including excerpts of two student group research essays dealing with their public scholarship work.i

Jeremie Albert, Melissa Frill, and Laura Lawfer

To plan for these sessions at PAL, we spent every Friday working together to come up with a group lesson plan. These lesson plans allowed us to apply what we learned in English 135S to what we did at PAL. We tried to create our lesson plans using what we had learned in class (for example, what multicultural literature is and what its goals are), while still keeping our activities enjoyable to hold the children’s attention. Our group worked together to choose a multicul- tural-based piece of children’s literature every week, then

My public scholarship project, “Service-Learning and Multicultural Literature:Reciprocal Relationships,” brought public scholarship to the study and teaching of literature (where it has been largely absent) by incorporating public

scholarship into two sections of English 135S, a first-year seminar on Alternative

Voices in American Literature, in Fall 2002. Students in these classes participated as

a requirement of the course in approximately twenty hours of community service

work at the Police Athletic League (PAL) of Reading.

decided on an activity that would serve as complement to the literature. We hoped this activity would reinforce the lesson that the multicultural literature was supposed to teach.

Using the lesson plans we created, we went to PAL for the actual public scholarship time. While we were there we fully applied our lesson plans, which were based on what we learned in class. Because of this, what we initially learned in class was reinforced and allowed to grow. We learned through our research into public scholarship that service and academic learning must enhance one another. More impor- tantly, public scholarship at PAL not only helped the commu- nity but it aided our own learning on the issues of multicul- tural literature, since multicultural literature is the setting of our public scholarship time at PAL.

All of the goals experienced in the classroom and through public scholarship were brought together through required public scholarship journals that we had to hand in every week after going to PAL. We were required to write in our journals about information directly related to English 135S, not just a narration of what happened during our expe- rience at PAL. We analyzed our experiences completely in our service-learning journals. . . . We had to decide whether or not the literature we chose was successful, if we could see cultural differences between the PAL children, how public scholarship helped dispel many stereotypes that people may have had, or how public scholarship helped us with our views relating to literature. Our service-learning journals were meant to use everything we learned up to that point and make us think about the lessons we learned in the classroom, therefore allowing our minds to fully develop an understand- ing of the goals of multicultural literature.

Works read in the college classroom such as “The Lesson” by Toni Cade Bambara and Fences by August Wilson discuss the life of struggling minorities. Stories like these exposed us to a life we were not necessarily privy to beforehand. As the majority of us (the college students [in our class]) come from affluent white families, working with the PAL students was an eye-opening experience. This expe- rience benefited us by allowing us to see a world outside the one in which we had personally grown up. Many of us formed a relationship with the PAL children that went beyond the lines of a professional, distant relationship, but instead became a true friendship. We formed caring bonds with each other and the lives of all of us (college students and PAL children) have been permanently altered by this experience. Our experience at PAL [thus] worked not only in an academic manner, but it also promoted a multicultural understanding in our minds. Our public scholarship has opened our minds to the differences found in this world. Openness toward different ethnic groups is one of the most important issues currently surrounding multicultural litera- ture.

Jamie Behun, Carolyn Blake, and Meghan Houser

Public scholarship provides an opportunity for college students to expand their horizons. . . . Working in a diverse environment creates relationships that break down racial bar- riers. This mammoth problem is being gradually linked to the communities by bridges such as public scholarship… Multicultural service learning can create a kindness that will spread throughout society. It is like a small weed that will eventually take over the garden….public scholarship will enable our society to communicate and relate with new vigor. It is so important for today’s society to develop a genuine sense of compassion for others. . . .

In regard to choosing out literature for the students at the Police Athletic League, we found there are many different standards and ideas to take into consideration. . . . Our selec- tions range from respectful illustrations to positive images of children’s heritage that can shape and affect the personality and knowledge of a child. In class, we studied about how to choose literature, and we used what we learned through our sessions at the Police Athletic League to discover that there are many key factors to examine when selecting pieces of lit- erature. . . . Among the many traits needed in order to show its worthiness is an ability to show a positive portrayal of cultures and heritages. . . . There should also be little or no stereotyping in the book due to the possibility of ill-inform- ing children of a particular culture or race. Also, illustrations should be depicted correctly and show an accurate view of people in that culture or racial ethnicity. For instance, one of the articles we read gave the example that in The Five Chinese Brothers, the characters are depicted in a degrading manner, due to the brothers all looking alike and being por- trayed in a caricature form. Lastly, the books need to have themes that the children will enjoy, such as friendship, fami- ly, and school. An unmotivated child will not find the book interesting enough to read and will therefore not benefit from it in any way.

Ultimately, most teachers will agree that the most impor- tant factor in teaching multicultural education is a varied cur- riculum. We feel that as a group we have chosen wisely and made good decisions. Our curriculum for our group at the Police Athletic League consisted of a Newberry Award win- ner, a Hispanic author, a canonical author, and a Navajo Indian legend. We tried to incorporate authors such as Mark Twain, Patricia MacLachan, Gary Soto, and Terrie Cohlene. For each reading we adapted a relevant activity that would tie in with the story. With the Cohlene story about a Navaho Indian legend, we bought a sand art making kit for the chil- dren to make for themselves. Before the story we explained the background of the legend so the students would not be lost while reading. During our session with MacLachan’s Sarah Plain and Tall, we chose to make beaded necklaces and bracelets as an activity because we thought it would link to the simple lifestyles portrayed in the story. We talked to

the kids while we beaded and asked them what they thought of the story and the lifestyle that is so far from the one they know. We feel that the books and short stories depicted many different cultures and ethnicities in a positive manner. The children were exposed to literature that they hadn’t necessari- ly been exposed to before and seemed to like it.

Benefits to Community PAL is a very busy organization, with hundreds of chil-

dren using its myriad services at one time. Penn State stu- dents were able to offer and implement an educational and entertaining after-school activity. The children at PAL bene- fited in four primary ways:

n Benefited from reading stories about children from diverse cultures and from the arts and crafts activities associated with these stories.

n Received help from the Penn State students on their home- work.

n Established caring, friendly relationships with their Penn State group leaders: During my observations of students’ work at PAL, I saw firsthand how the children looked up to the students. They seemed to really adore each other.

n Saw Penn State students as role models who got them excited about the prospects of attending college (even Penn State) some day.

From Service Learning to Public Scholarship: Assessment and Evaluation

While service learning and public scholarship have become more and more pervasive across the disciplines, liter- ary specialists have largely stayed away from this increasing- ly popular pedagogical movement. My public scholarship work links service with literature and brings together the social activism associated with multicultural education and the rhetorical, aesthetic, and cultural study of literary texts. I have begun my research into service learning and literature, focusing on a Women Writers course I taught in Fall 2001. That article, which I have revised and resubmitted to a rep- utable academic journal, will hopefully begin the dialogue on service-learning and literature. In that article, I focused on the reciprocal thematic and ideological relationships between public scholarship and reading literature. I suggest that public scholarship in the literature class can foster students’ learning about difference, multiculturalism, women’s issues, class issues, politics and power, oppression and equality, and jus- tice and injustice. Moreover, against the backdrop of literary studies’ self-questioning, I also suggest that public scholar- ship may reinforce the central role that imaginative literature as literature must play in the service of social and political change.

My assessment and evaluation of English 135S will have a somewhat different focus. Specifically, the course concen- trated not only on reading and interpreting literature and the politics of interpretation, but also on the significant issues

with which literary studies itself is wrestling, including what is meant by a canon of American literature; who makes deci- sions about the canon and how these decisions are made; why some scholars want to broaden the canon of American literature to include texts by women and minorities, while others want to keep the canon in its traditional form; and so forth.

My assessment will thus focus on the extent to which stu- dents’ work with children and adolescents from PAL illumi- nated the issues we studied in class. By working in teams, making decisions about what literary texts to introduce to PAL children, and justifying their decisions in collaborative written work, students engaged in these crucial questions of multicultural literary studies. I plan to assess the extent to which students were able to transfer these questions of liter- ary study which involve the nature of knowledge and its rela- tionship to power structures to deeper understanding of the lives of the children with whom they worked. That is, will students be able to understand that the social and political forces that deem some literature as worthy of being taught and studied, while excluding others, mirror the kinds of forces that oppress certain groups of people and inhibit jus- tice and equality of opportunity? If so, what will they do with that knowledge?

I will address these questions from various perspectives, bringing together scholarship from women’s studies, ethnic studies, multicultural studies, cultural studies, and literary studies. My primary analysis will involve the study of stu- dents’ written materials in the course: essays, a collaborative report, journals, a pre-service-learning questionnaire, end-of- semester written course evaluations, and an end-of-semester questionnaire.

What’s Next? Public Scholarship and Literary Studies I plan to continue to integrate public scholarship with

multicultural literature and to theorize and assess the work accomplished through these projects. With each new semes- ter, I hope to be able to ameliorate some of the obstacles we faced in English 135S. Like public scholarship practitioners in other disciplines, I realize that public scholarship is both “messy” and unpredictable, but ultimately worthwhile. The positive outcomes of the project necessitate that I continue to move forward with this challenging work, linking service learning with public scholarship to address the challenges involved. My future research will continue to focus on the work my students produce and its relationship to course con- tent, but I will also concentrate on the benefits to the service organizations and clients.

Service learning has become a vital part of education, and, therefore, its absence from literary studies should be addressed. Ellen Cushman questions whether literary scholars will be able to “see their intellectual work as amenable to service learning courses.” ii I certainly see my work as a lit- erary scholar and multicultural educator in this light and hope

my public scholarship projects will persuade others in literary studies of the value of integrating service learning with litera-

ture. !

REFERENCES: i I have not changed students’ writing, except for minor edit- ing and some re-arranging of paragraphs. The students, all in their first year of college, revised their excerpts for this publi- cation. ii Ellen Cushman, “The Public Intellectual, Service Learning, and Activist Research,” College English 61 (1999): 328-36.

Laurie Grobman ([email protected]) is assistant professor of English.

Jeffrey G. Parker Alisha R. Walker

Encouraging Adolescent Social Competence: A

Practicum

For these children, their presence at school leaves them vulnerable to taunting, embarrassment, and exclusion by peers. The butt of peer pranks and jokes and the subject of gossip and ridicule, for these children a good day is a day when they are ignored. On a bad day, they risk public physi- cal assault or defilement.

The plight of such bullied and victimized early adolescents is the touchstone of Psychology 425: Practicum in social and personal competence in early adolescence. Begun in 1997 as an informal partnership between several area middle schools and the Department of Psychology at the Pennsylvania State University, this 3-credit course weaves community-based service, learning, and research into a broad tapestry of public scholarship. In particular, three pedagogical principles organize the course and dictate the intellectual and experien- tial elements of the course for enrolled undergraduates:

Involvement is intended to be a serious process of intel- lectual engagement that includes reflection and integrates experiences in the field with academic exploration.

Academic credit in the course is for learning, not service.

Students’ field experiences lend a real life perspective to their classroom readings, and permit them to “test” their aca- demic insights against their experiences.

Although a goal for the course is to present students with experiences that challenge their understanding of them- selves and others, the value of the course is not limited to self-discovery.

An equally important goal is to expose students to the existing, related scientific literature in this area and to leave students with an understanding of how rigorous scientific inquiry can inform efforts to improve children’s lives, and vice versa.

The service in the service learning component of the course is designed to be sustained, field based, and have a realistic possibility of improving the lives of children.

Participating undergraduates work in small teams to lead weekly one-hour discussions, demonstrations, and role-play- ing activities with classrooms of 6th through 8th grade stu- dents during the school day. Further, the intervention is

“I have for a long time argued that it is a fundamental democratic or humanright for a child to feel safe in school and to be spared the oppression and repeated, intentional, humiliation implied in peer victimization or bullying. No stu-

dent should be afraid of going to school for fear of being harassed or denigrated,

and no parent should need to worry about such things happening to his or her

child.” i This protestation notwithstanding, actual or potential harassment by peers

is part of the fabric of the school day for a significant proportion of early adolescents

in North America.

informed by a firm scientific understanding of both the fac- tors and processes that place children at risk and the most effective principles for intervening on their behalf.

Finally, an important hope for the course is that, along with providing students with field-based educational experi- ences that complements classroom learning, the course will inform students about possible career directions (both inside and outside the academy) and encourage longer-term patterns of community involvement and civic leadership.

The plight of rejected and victimized children Although understandably difficult to come by, reliable

estimates suggest that the proportion of children in elemen- tary and middle schools who are repeatedly harassed and vic- timized by their schoolmates may exceed one in ten. ii

However, an astonishing 75% of middle school aged school children report being subject to occasional humiliation and harassment and the fear of such treatment by peers is proba- bly almost universal. iii Further, unlike many other signifi- cant forms of behavior, bullying and peer victimization ignores most major socioeconomic, class, ethnic, and geo- graphic distinctions—occurring with regularity in big and small, wealthy and impoverished, and rural and urban school settings, for example. Finally, the intentional mistreatment and debasement of vulnerable peers is common to both boys and girls, although the form this behavior assumes varies somewhat by sex.

Children who are the targets of peer harassment some- times risk physical insult (e.g., struck with fists, kicked, shoved, spit on, clothes torn, etc.). However, most harass- ment that occurs between peers is social, especially as chil- dren grow older. Social assaults injure children’s sense of well being and esteem by compromising their membership in important peer groups or ability to make or keep friends. This includes public teasing, ridicule, and name-calling; visi- ble exclusion from social activities and conversation; rumor spreading; and pranks (i.e., duping victims into engaging in a behavior with the intent of exposing it later to embarrass them). Social victimization increases in severity as children grow older. Indeed, as many children have sadly learned, boys’ and girls’ ingenuity at humiliating peers appears almost limitless.

As Olweus points out, peer bullying offends our demo- cratic notions of fairness and freedom from oppression. However, decades of psychological research and theory sup- port an even broader basis for alarm and action. Establishing successful relationships with peers is widely recognized as a hallmark of healthy social and psychological adjustment in childhood and as important to children’s subsequent social- ization and development. Through the give and take of everyday peer interaction, for example, children develop and extend their perspective-taking skills, learn to understand and regulate their emotions, increase their tolerance of diversity, and develop social poise, leadership skills, and social compe-

tence. Thus, children who are the chronic targets of peer vic- timization and rejection are robbed of these important social- ization experiences. Further, research indicates that such children experience considerable personal and subjective dis- tress (loneliness, anxiety, depression, poor self esteem) over their social circumstances, that their peer problems seldom simply abate with the passage of time or with a transition to a new school, and that their rejection by peers places them “at risk” for subsequent maladjustment, including delinquen- cy, adult criminality, and psychiatric disorder and dysfunc- tion. Moreover, there is evidence that the social problems of peer-rejected children may “spill over” into academic areas and undermine achievement (e.g., grades, standardized test scores, grade progress, attendance, motivation).

Bullying has many underlying causes, included some rooted in the dynamics of peer cliques and crowds and chil- dren’s motives for belonging to them. For example, children who are too diverse or divergent from powerful groups can run afoul of them and become fodder for their entertainment. Respite for such children generally lies beyond the victims’ control and requires outside intervention with group mem- bers to raise their awareness and encourage responsible and respectful behavior. However, a lack of social skills and social knowledge, poor cognitive problem-solving strategies, and problems of emotion regulation also underlie many chil- dren’s problems with other children. Children who regularly victimize others (“bullies”) have been shown to reason about social situations in curious and malevolent ways and to lack adequate prosocial skills. Many of these children are them- selves rejected by peers and intermittently bullied.

Likewise, children who whither easily in the face of mild teasing, who communicate awkwardly and ineptly with oth- ers, or who isolate themselves may set themselves up as easy marks for peer harassment. These findings are encouraging, as they suggest that many bullies and the victims could bene- fit from remedial efforts to improve their social skills and ability to manage conflict. And, indeed, several successful interventions designed to improve the social skills of vulner- able children have been developed recently. Yet, to date, social skills training and other interventions to address bully- ing have not been widely implemented in schools. In part, this is because the most successful programs are highly labor-intensive and therefore beyond the personnel and fiscal resources of most schools and school districts. In other cases, however, schools can afford to help but chose not to.

Course components Service setting and goals. Participating undergraduates

work in small teams of two to four members to lead weekly one-hour discussions, demonstrations, and role-playing activ- ities with classrooms of 6th through 8th grade students enrolled in regional middle schools. Typically, children in the school experience the instruction as part their health cur- riculum. Undergraduates also assist with the development, coordination, and implementation of related workshops to

address issues of school violence or bullying. These work- shops, which may be offered as a capstone to the weekly group sessions or as independent school events, are large- scale, daylong “retreats” involving 50-70 children and held away from school (e.g., rural camps, community centers). In advance of the workshops, the undergraduates work evenings over a several weeks researching the focal topics, developing and rehearsing the protocol, and gaining skills for handling children professionally.

A flexible, school-based preventative intervention is the service cornerstone of the course. Rooted in conceptual frameworks borrowed from research in developmental, child clinical, and social psychology, this intervention is broadly designed to address the deficit social skills and coping skills of peer victims and their victimizers. It also includes compo- nents that address broader, school climate-level factors that contribute to or condone such behavior, such as rigid hierar- chies of popularity and the dynamics among cliques and peer crowds. To meet their goals and to insure that they are enter- taining and engaging to the youth, the format of the weekly sessions varies widely. However, each session has two com- mon elements. First, a social challenge or issue is intro- duced, often through a dramatization or demonstration. In addition, a significant proportion of the allotted time is reserved for semi-structured discussion of appropriate meth- ods of handling this focal task, including, as appropriate, dis- cussion and rehearsal of concrete behavioral “scripts” the children can use.

Undergraduate involvement. Participating undergraduates are generally seniors and juniors majoring in psychology, education, or related fields. Enrollment in the course is com- petitive and controlled. Undergraduates receive upper-level course credit and grading is letter-based.

Apart from the time they spend directly teaching the chil- dren, undergraduates meet weekly in their teams to plan, rehearse, and fine tune upcoming lessons, to discuss child and classroom management issues, or to air concerns about specific children who appear to be having social difficulties with peers. In preparation for their work, they also participate in several orientation workshops. These workshops acquaint the students with the needs and operation of the school dis- trict and specific schools, and also cover topics on diversity and the ethical and professional treatment of children and subjects.

Further, the course meets as a group one evening a week for two hours throughout the semester in a more traditional class format. This time is devoted to lecture, discussion, training, occasional guest speakers, and student presentations. In the seminar, students review and critique research and the- ory on the development of social relationships and social competence in childhood and adolescence. Twice during the term, teams of students are required to write curriculum les- sons to be used with the teens later in the term, and a portion of each plenary class meeting is used for these teams to pres-

ent their proposed lessons to their peers for feedback. Teaching Assumptions. Requirements of this course fol-

low from several assumptions about the students who are attracted to and will benefit from the course, as well as about the best means of accomplishing the course aims. To begin, the competitive enrollment assures that class members are intrinsically motivated, and hence strong external incentives or threats to maintain their attendance and participation are unnecessary. Likewise, along with specification of formal prerequisite coursework, the emphasis placed on students who are more senior and experienced with children assures that students already have some background knowledge of developmental psychology and that a steep learning curve does not exist for training the students to work with children in applied settings. Instead, training can emphasize the unique elements of working with children in classroom set- tings, such as the behavioral management of a groups and facilitation of discussion in groups with shy or defensive members. Finally, we assume that the opportunity to work collaboratively with peers enhances and consolidates under- standing. Accordingly, many assignments and much of the grading are group based. In addition, at two points in the term, students are required to observe their peers as they work with the children in the classrooms and provide written feedback concerning their performance.

Reflection. To insure that students fully harvest the bene- fits of their engagement with the school community and chil- dren, structured opportunities for reflection and integration are provided. These opportunities are guided, occur regular- ly, and allow feedback and assessment. For example, early in the term students write a set of short essays reflecting on the personal goals for the semester and their own peer experi- ences as a middle school aged child. These essays are dis- cussed in small groups. During the term, students are required to write “process” notes weekly, reflecting on events in the classroom that week and any issues that surfaced con- cerning individual children, ethical concerns, or practical or conceptual problems with the lesson plan. Additionally, twice during the term students undertake critical written eval- uations of two books written for non-psychologists (e.g., par- ents, teachers, teens) about topics relevant to teen’s social development and socialization and relate them to course con- tent. Finally, the capstone paper is a case study of the social skills needs and progress of a particular child. For this, stu- dents draw upon their weekly process notes and other infor- mal observations to develop an understanding of the social strengths and weaknesses of a particular adolescent and the ways in which the intervention is and is not meeting those needs.

Portfolio and Evaluation. At the end of the term each stu- dent submits a portfolio as a documentation of their profes- sional and personal development and achievements over the term. Although flexible by design, the portfolio has three major sections. The initial section is titled, What I did, and includes copies of the lessons they have written, their written

book reviews, their case study, and their written feedback to their peers based on their observations in the classroom. The second section is titled How I did. This section includes a lengthy self-assessment of their performance over the term as well as a copy of the feedback their peers provided observing them in the classroom. Finally, the section on What I learned begins with a short statement outlining their insights into to their personal growth over the term and the areas in which their understanding of social life in middle schools increased as a result of participating in the course. Included in this section are their thoughts sparked by the assigned readings and their weekly journals.

Considerations Over the past half decade Psychology 425: Practicum in

social and personal competence in early adolescence has evolved from an informal experience offered to individual students as “independent study” into its current and mature form as a recurrent, formally-recognized course with a strong undergraduate following. This metamorphosis has given us some insight into some of the keys to the success of the course and also brought to the surface some considerations that we did not fully appreciate initially. To close, we share two of these considerations.

First, without question, most of the credit for the course success rests with the talents, interests, and motivation of the participating undergraduates themselves. The hours these students dedicate to this course far exceed the presumptive hours/credits ratio found in typical courses and each cohort of students brings a fresh infusion of creativity, optimism, and commitment to children. In hindsight it is apparent to us that this resource might have been easily squandered had we not intuitively adopted a student —rather than instructor— centered approach to learning and course management. A key aspect of the course is the sense of ownership each cohort of students is encouraged to develop. Apart from a few essential elements that must be rigidly prescribed, effort is made to involve the students themselves in decision-mak- ing about assignments, deadlines, lecture topics, and many procedures.

In addition, students are invited to attend planning meet- ings with school personal, kept abreast of school negotiations and scheduling glitches, and recruited to assist in trou- bleshooting problems arising within specific classroom or teaching teams. In many traditionally oriented courses these planning and preparation elements prudently take place behind the scenes, hidden behind the veneer of smooth func- tioning and polished schedules and policies. In this course, part of what students find refreshing is that they have an opportunity to see the course “warts and all,” and they know that much of the responsibility for success each term rests on their shoulders, not the instructor’s.

Second, it is easy to underestimate the need for adequate resources. There are an endless number of details to running such a course. Not the least of these is the massive task of

developing and maintaining an algorithm for scheduling 25to 30 undergraduates with varying course schedules and busy social and extracurricular lives into small teams that can meet with groups of teens whose own class schedules nor- mally rotate on 6- (versus 5-) day cycles and are thrown into chaos when snow cancels school. Beyond, this, supplies and stimulus materials must be maintained and distributed, and reference material must circulate. Because its enrollment is necessarily small, the course does not met departmental thresholds for graduate teaching assistant support. Thus, to meet the need for instructional and logistics support, we have consistently relied upon some of the best and brightest past students. These students act as teaching assistants in exchange for independent study credit, and assist with almost every course element but grading. They also offer the addi- tional benefit of being able to share suggestions and observa- tions with current students based on their own experiences.

Likewise, many of the elements of the course are expendable (e.g., questionnaires for the children, supplies for the activities) and have accompanying expenses. Indeed, the total costs associated with the course can reach a few hun- dred dollars a term. To offset these expenses, we have some- times asked the schools themselves to tap monies set aside for enrichment activities. In other instances, we have been able utilize small amounts of state or other monies ear- marked for addressing problems of school bullying or vio- lence. We have also been successful from time to time in securing intramural and extramural funding dedicated to sup- porting innovative teaching efforts. On the whole, however, each semester brings renewed concern for funding.

Finally, community-based scholarship and teaching requires enormous patience and tolerance for ambiguity. Community schools and universities operate with differing implicit or explicit models, decision-making procedures and governance, and run on different calendars. They also answer to differing constituencies and may have differing definitions of success. Sustainable partnerships grow slowly over time and as a result of good deal of initial trial and

error. !

REFERENCES i D. Olweus, “Peer harassment: A critical analysis and some important issues,” in Peer harassment in school: The plight of the vulnerable and victimized, ed. J. Juvonen & S. Graham. (New York:Guilford Press, 2001), 3-21. ii B. J. Kochendorfer and G.W. Ladd, “Peer victimization: Cause or consequence of school maladjustment?” Child Development 67 (1996): 1307-1317; J. Juvonen and S. Graham, eds. Peer harassment in school: The plight of the vulnerable and victimized. (New York:Guilford Press, 2001); P.K. Smith, S. Shu, and K. Madsen, “Characteristics of vic- tims of school bullying: Developmental changes in coping strategies and skills,” in Peer harassment in school: The

plight of the vulnerable and victimized, ed. J. Juvonen and S. Graham (New York:Guilford Press, 2001), 332-353. iii D. Olweus, Bullying at school. (Cambridge, MA: Blackwell Publishers,1993); Juvonen and Graham, Peer Harassment at School.

Jeffrey Parker ([email protected]) is associate professor in the department of psychology. Alisha Walker ([email protected]) is a graduate student in the department of psychology.

Jeffrey G. Parker Alisha R. Walker

Encouraging Adolescent Social Competence: A

Practicum

Involvement is intended to be a serious process of intel- lectual engagement that includes reflection and integrates experiences in the field with academic exploration.

Academic credit in the course is for learning, not service.

Students’ field experiences lend a real life perspective to their classroom readings, and permit them to “test” their aca- demic insights against their experiences.

Although a goal for the course is to present students with experiences that challenge their understanding of them- selves and others, the value of the course is not limited to self-discovery.

The service in the service learning component of the course is designed to be sustained, field based, and have a realistic possibility of improving the lives of children.

dent should be afraid of going to school for fear of being harassed or denigrated,

and no parent should need to worry about such things happening to his or her

child.” i This protestation notwithstanding, actual or potential harassment by peers

is part of the fabric of the school day for a significant proportion of early adolescents

in North America.

informed by a firm scientific understanding of both the fac- tors and processes that place children at risk and the most effective principles for intervening on their behalf.

The plight of rejected and victimized children Although understandably difficult to come by, reliable

estimates suggest that the proportion of children in elemen- tary and middle schools who are repeatedly harassed and vic- timized by their schoolmates may exceed one in ten. ii

Course components Service setting and goals. Participating undergraduates

ent their proposed lessons to their peers for feedback. Teaching Assumptions. Requirements of this course fol-

Considerations Over the past half decade Psychology 425: Practicum in

Second, it is easy to underestimate the need for adequate resources. There are an endless number of details to running such a course. Not the least of these is the massive task of

error. !

Jeffrey Parker ([email protected]) is associate professor in the department of psychology. Alisha Walker ([email protected]) is a graduate student in the department of psychology.

Mark Radomsky

Enhancing Pedestrian Safety Through Community

Engagement

Nationally, there are more pedestrians killed annually (approximately 6,000) than employees killed in industrial mishaps (approximately 5,000). In the Borough of State College, on average, more than 20 pedestrian-vehicle crashes have occurred annually since 2001, resulting in numerous injuries and several fatalities—one in 2001 involving a Penn State student. Another pedestrian fatality occurred in October of 2002 when an elderly State College resident was struck by a van as she crossed South Atherton Street. The following day, two Penn State students were struck by cars as they crossed Atherton street near the Greyhound bus station.

Last fall, students enrolled in my course Safety Psychology and the Investigation Process (HIS 410) were given the rare opportunity to apply their knowledge of behavior-based safe- ty techniques in a community problem-solving effort to better understand and reduce the causes of pedestrian-vehicle crash- es. This project was generously supported through a public scholarship course enhancement grant sponsored by the Office of Undergraduate Education and the Office of Continuing and Distance Education. The project required the students to study pedestrian injuries both nationwide and locally, attend pedes- trian safety task force meetings, collect and analyze data on pedestrian and motorists’ behaviors, and contribute to engi- neering and educational solutions to the problem. Before

classes began, Amy Story, the engineer in charge of public works for the Borough of State College, expressed an interest in acquiring pedestrian crossing warning signs (channelizing devices) from the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation. The purpose of these devices is to warn motorists of an approaching crosswalk, and to motivate a motorist to obey pertinent laws with respect to pedestrians crossing streets and highways. A survey of pedestrian and motorist behavior was part of the application process. The implementation of that survey became the focus of the public scholarship component of the students’ responsibilities in IHS 410

Background In early 2002, the State College Borough Commission on

Pedestrian and Traffic Safety responded to the growing issue of pedestrian-vehicle safety with a two-pronged attack: a three-second signal delay which would give pedestrians a head start at intersections over right or left turning vehicles, and the establishment of the Task force for Pedestrian Safety Education (TPSE). The charge of TPSE is to establish a base- line for community opinion and knowledge on pedestrian safe- ty issues, implement educational programs, and investigate and recommend future initiatives for enhanced pedestrian

“They drove over the bridge into the traffic of the newer city. The streets werecrowed, automobiles and pedestrians vying for supremacy at every intersec- tion, the red and green signals erratic and interminable.” So writes Robert Ludlum in

his best selling book the Bourne Identity. His description could well have been writ-

ten about the streets in any large American city or in the borough of State College,

where pedestrian safety is an emerging problem.

safety. I joined TPSE in March of 2002 and recognized an opportunity to leverage participation in the groups’ objectives into an opportunity for students to get involved in the solving public problems. Since these issues are often inherently com- plex and involve various stakeholders each with a unique per- spective, interaction with the process provided students with a learning experience that they could never get in a classroom, regardless of the curriculum or the instructional methods used (e.g., case study, role play, group problem solving, etc.).

Knowledge Deficit Revealed A survey of State College pedestrians was conducted in July

of 2002 by TPSE. Significant findings are as follows: 1) a high percentage (60 percent) of students interviewed regularly cross streets at mid-block (i.e., not at crosswalks), 2) slightly more than a quarter (26%) of the students who were inter- viewed do not wait for a walk signal before crossing the street, and 3) the percentage of pedestrians who felt motorists are rude to pedestrians was 56.4 %. The survey also revealed a significant lack of knowledge regarding pedestrian-vehicle laws among those interviewed (identified as residents, stu- dents, pedestrians, and drivers).

Behavior as a Key Focus in Student Research Activity The students in IHS 410 are taught that safety is a constant

fight with human nature. Examples of this are common. Individual will often choose to take short cuts despite the fact that these short cuts may compromise safety. The short cuts are especially tempting because they may prevent discomfort, save time, or result in some other reinforcing consequence (reward). In the context of a pedestrian crossing busy streets, he or she may ignore the walk signal, although this behavior is sometimes more risky than waiting for the signal and plays a major role in determining the outcome (safe crossing versus a crash). Using a behavioral survey checklist, student researchers logged a total of eight observation hours at four busy downtown intersections.

The primary objective of the survey was to determine the frequency of various pedestrian and motorists’ behaviors, such as “failure of motorist to yield to pedestrians,” “no con- flict with motorists,” motorists who yield to pedestrians,” etc.

The data were summarized, and will be submitted to PennDot as a partial requirement for the acquisition of the channelizing devices previously described.

A total of 5,575 behaviors were observed and documented. The key findings are as follows:

n The majority of the pedestrians that crossed the inter- sections within the marked crosswalks had no conflicts with motorists.

n Many pedestrians who crossed the intersections with- out any conflicts with motorists either crossed when there were not any motorists present or crossed when there were not any motorists approaching the intersec- tion.

n The majority of the motorists yielded when pedestri- ans either walked within the marked crosswalks or when pedestrians walked within 50 feet of the marked cross- walks.

n The number of pedestrians who yielded to motorists was significantly lower than the motorists who yielded to pedestrians.

n On average, the intersection of College Avenue and Garner Street was the busiest intersection, as determined by the number of with pedestrians per hour (see Table)

Summary By participating in this public service research project, the

students were given an opportunity to apply the principles of behavior-based safety to help solve community safety prob- lems, and to experience the challenges of complex problems that involve some combination of engineering, education, and enforcement solutions. They learned that addressing problems such as pedestrian safety are not easily solved, and require the concerted effort and resources of numerous stakeholders (res- idents, police, public safety, university, etc.). Further, they were asked to reflect on the connections between the issues associated with pedestrian safety in a public setting, and the problem of crashes between mobile equipment and pedestrians or ground workers in industrial settings. After some consid- eration, they agreed that there were many similarities, and clearly saw how the techniques and concepts used during the project could be applied in other settings. To date, the Task Force for Pedestrian Safety Education has prepared and dis- tributed an educational flyer and a brochure as a way to inform the public about the laws which pertain to pedestrian safety, worked with local radio stations to establish a pedestrian safe- ty public service announcement campaign, conducted two pedestrian safety surveys, and recently taped a half-hour pro- gram on pedestrian safety which will air on C-Net in the com- ing months. These educational initiatives are ongoing, and should provide opportunities for student engagement in public

scholarship activities for years to come.v

Mark Radomsky ([email protected]) is an instructor in industrial health and safety sciences.

1466

107

0 200 400 600 800 1000 1200 1400 1600

Pedestrians who cross within the marked crosswalk and have no

conflicts with motorists (there are no motorists present at the time).

Motorists who yield to pedestrians crossing within the marked

crosswalk.

Motorists who yield to pedestrians crossing within 50 feet of the

marked crosswalk.

Pedestrians who cross not within the marked crosswalk, but have no conflicts with motorists (there are no motorists present at the time).

Pedestrians who yield to motorists within the marked crosswalk

(motorist failure to yield).

Pedestrians who yield to motorists within 50 feet of the marked

crosswalk.

S u

rv e

y I

te m

# of Pedestrians

Number of critical behaviors observed at College and Garner

Valerie N. Stratton

A First Public Scholarship Experience: Reflections

Naturally, as a 400-level course, Psy 437 would be a more advanced and in-depth course about adjustment than Psy 243. Unfortunately, there are no comprehensive textbooks for the advanced course on adjustment; at least I’ve never found one.

Therefore, I’ve tried a variety of materials for this course. I’ve used basic texts supplemented with readings of original articles, two or three specialized texts, and compila- tions of readings. Each has worked in presenting theories, concepts, and issues, and together with a term paper or some other similar project, students have received an adequate course about adjustment. However, I’ve often felt that this course should somehow get students more involved with the issues of adjustment in the real world.

Thus, I was facing this dilemma last spring when the bookstore requested my book orders for the fall. Once again, I had to decide what book(s) to use for Psy 437. Then two things happened. First, I received the e-mail notification about the Public Scholarship Grants, which looked interest- ing but not relevant. I had served on some community boards in the mental health area and have had occasional guest speakers, but I really had no background in service learning.

Second, I came across the fact that October 11, 2002 was declared World Mental Health Day. Somehow, through my ruminations about how to teach the adjustment course in the fall, the idea of public service in connection with Mental Health Day began to grow. I went back to the announcement about the grants and started thinking about how I could develop this approach. The basic idea was that students would have to bring mental health awareness and improve- ment to the community. As I tried to elaborate upon this idea, I thought of activities such as stress management work- shops. However, these are both fairly common and would be beyond the skills of the students. Nevertheless, I became more attracted to the general idea and decided to apply for a grant. It seemed like such a natural course into which to integrate a service component.

I was further inspired by another faculty member at Altoona who had received this grant the previous year. Dr. Kevin Galbraith in Human Development and Family Services gave a college colloquium with his students last year describing their activities. I talked with several other people and then sat down and began brainstorming myself.

Somewhere along the line, I realized that what I was

Imust confess at the outset that my involvement with public scholarship cameabout through a series of fortuitous events rather than as a carefully planned instructional improvement. I’ve taught Psychology 437 – Psychology of Adjustment

– for many years and have never been completely satisfied with the course. There

are two courses about adjustment within the psychology curriculum – Psy 243, the

Psychology of Personal Well-Being and Adjustment, and Psy 437.

planning fell under the psychology specialty of community psychology. I began searching and found a good basic text in community psychology which incorporated many of the topics we usually discuss in the course. I added a reader of current articles and had the textbook part taken care of. The community service component, I decided, could be projects based on the topics typically covered in the course – commu- nication, close relations, sexuality, work, aging, stress, etc. – and would be developed by the students from the existing theory and body of knowledge about those topics.

Each student or group of students would develop their own project, but some possibilities I suggested were panel discussions or skits about adjustment topics presented at pub- lic settings such as Rotary Club, the public library, schools, or on the local access TV channel; informational material developed and made available at a table at the local shopping mall; workshops presented for local businesses or clubs; and an interview for the Lifestyle page of the local newspaper on October 11. I put the proposal together, submitted it, and received the grant.

When the Fall 2002 semester began, I was a bit disap- pointed to find that I had only twelve students enrolled in Psy 437. The enrollment in this course has been quite vari- able since we do not have the psychology major at Altoona College and thus depend on students in other majors taking it as a supporting course. But I thought twelve students might be a good number for venturing into a new experience. They seemed interested and enthusiastic about the plans for the course. I don’t believe it had anything to do with the course format, but four students ended up dropping the class, leav- ing me with only eight. But they were eight good students.

As they began to develop their ideas for the project, most drew from their own life experiences. Three of the class members were adult students and immediately had ideas based on their personal situations; they all planned individual projects. One other student worked on the project individual- ly while the other four paired up into two teams resulting in six projects. The plans were developed through a combina- tion of discussions with me and with other class members. We spent a fair amount of class time working on the project development. I required the students to get at least ten refer- ence articles on their topic to provide a base of knowledge, and these were incorporated into term papers. When the project plans were concrete, we began making contacts.

Although October 11 had been a stimulus date as World Mental Health Day, we weren’t able to plan any activities for that date. Coordination with community outlets and agencies required flexibility and more planning time than anticipated. The projects included an interview with the Altoona Mirror about the problems facing children who have siblings with special needs; taping a half-hour discussion about grief for presentation on the local public access television channel; a presentation about the over-scheduled child to members of the SPOC (Single Point of Contact) program; a presentation about stress to an Alzheimer’s Family Caregivers support

group; an educational presentation about HIV/AIDS to a church youth group; and a month-long program comparing methods of coping with stress carried out on campus but advertised to the public. Scheduling difficulties included finding mutually available times for the community groups, the students, and myself. One presentation was snowed out and had to be rescheduled twice. However, since we began planning early in the semester, every project was completed.

An issue within community psychology which was of interest to this course was program evaluation. The students were instructed to include ideas for evaluating the effective- ness of their project and to implement their ideas as much as possible. They quickly saw the reality of the difficulties fac- ing anyone trying to evaluate a program in the real world. The projects which involved a presentation used brief ques- tionnaires for those attending to provide feedback. The newspaper article and the TV presentation were undoubtedly seen by many people in the community, but there were no feasible ways to assess the impact. The stress project con- ducted on campus involved follow-up questionnaires after the four weeks of involvement, but not all participants responded. The types of issues these projects addressed also involved potential long-term benefits which could not be evaluated within the semester time limits. But since many of the students in the class had plans to enter various social service careers, this was a valuable exercise in understanding the need for and challenges of evaluation. Evaluation of the students was fairly traditional. I based grades mostly on the term paper which accompanied the project, although the proj- ect itself had to be conducted in a careful and professional manner. Of course, this required my attendance at the pre- sentations and the taping of the TV program.

An evaluation of the students’ reactions to this teaching technique indicated that they found it challenging and rewarding. Each student was able to explore a topic of per- sonal interest in depth and go beyond the usual academic approach. All the students said they had positive experiences with the community people they interacted with. One stu- dent said it made her feel important to be treated as a profes- sional by the people attending her presentation. We all dis- covered that the community is hungry for information and presentations; many groups are always on the lookout for new speakers. No one was turned down by any agency or contact, although in one case a student was redirected to a more appropriate group for her project. Most of the projects could have been conducted without a source of funding, but with the money available we were able to provide supple- mentary materials such as books and pamphlets for the par- ticipants. The stress management project involved the use of stress balls and CDs of relaxing music which had to be pur- chased, and the taping for TV had a small fee. Everyone was extremely appreciative for the materials provided. (A sticker was attached to each book and pamphlet given out with cred- it to the Public Scholarship program.)

Looking back at the semester, I think it went well for a

first effort. I’m grateful at this point that I had only eight stu- dents in the class since this allowed for more individual proj- ects. The course did not take as much of my time as I had anticipated, but this was also due in part to the small number of students. Attending presentations required some evening time as well as a few errands such as picking up doughnuts. It was very helpful to devote several classes to discussions about the projects since feedback from other students was useful in formulating plans. A final presentation on the last day of classes allowed everyone to share their experiences. The projects tied in well with the topics discussed in the text- book, and I was able to develop essay questions for exams that required the students to apply concepts to their particular experiences.

I’ve mentioned this way of teaching Psy. 437 to some other faculty who teach it and they were very interested in considering using the method. I believe the students benefit- ed not only from being able to apply concepts to real world situations, but also in their level of self-confidence and pride of accomplishment. They felt they were contributing some- thing of importance, which indeed they were. Thus, while it may not be possible to measure all the outcomes of this approach objectively, I am convinced that it is a valuable endeavor. I will definitely continue to integrate community

service teaching in courses as appropriate in the future. !

Valerie N. Stratton ([email protected]) is associate professor of psychology at Penn State.

Ian Baptiste

Beyond Teaching to Fish: Community-directed

Research and Education

Six principles guide CCDRE’s efforts: 1) fostering civic participation, 2) providing material incentives to community residents, 3) building human capacities, 4) building and strengthening local institutions, 5) working for personal and societal transformation, and 6) attending to diversity issues. Fostering civic participation

CCDRE works with community residents not on or for them. That means that community residents are encouraged to work with university personnel as full-fledged partners and co-researchers. Full participation promotes ownership, commitment and relevance. Providing material incentives

In its work, CCDRE makes efforts for community mem- bers to receive material benefits in the short and long run. For instance, when grants are secured in the name of doing community work, CCDRE discloses the finances to the com- munity, provides appropriate remunerations for community residents, and ensures that the community participates in determining remunerations. Building human capacities

When people engage civically, they not only change things, they also change themselves—in short, they learn; they build their human capacities. CCDRE works to increase participants’ expertise, and to increase knowledge about how people learn specific skills.

Building and strengthening local institutions Individuals migrate and then, eventually, die. Local insti-

tutions preserve and extend individuals’ expertise, in time and space (sustainability). CCDRE promotes sustainability by working with community residents to build and strengthen local institutions (social capital). Working toward personal and social transformation

CCDRE does more than “help people fish.” CCDRE does more than “teach people how to fish.” CCDRE also encour- ages people to ask: “why continue fishing; or why continue fishing in this way?” In short, CCDRE promotes personal and social transformation. Attending to diversity issues

Communities are seldom homogeneous. Living in com- munities are people of different religions, ethnicities, cul- tures, ideologies and visions. The same is true of universities. CCDRE considers this diversity an asset. Accordingly, CCDRE works with university personnel and community res- idents to capitalize on this asset, and to ensure that no voice or interest is unknowingly or deliberated silenced or sup- pressed.

CCDRE at Work Much of the work that CCDRE has done in the past four

years has been institution building—developing a vision,

There are public scholarship projects in which students reap tremendous bene-fits, but the “pay off” to community residents is dubious or non-existent. Accordingly, in the initiatives undertaken by CCDRE, the Committee for

Community-Directed Research and Education, building the capacity of community

residents is as important a goal as fostering student learning.

goals and objectives, organizational structure, guiding princi- ples and modes of operation to ensure that the work of CCDRE lasts beyond its current membership. That work and the learning resulting from it have been carefully document- ed.i CCDRE’s actual involvement with communities began in Summer 2002 with two projects: one in Belmont, West Philadelphia and the other in Caribbean Island of Grenada. The West Philadelphia project is discussed elsewhere in this publication. Furthermore, the mechanisms used by CCDRE in the Philadelphia project are quite similar to those used in the Grenada project. Consequently, the rest of this essay describes the Grenada project.

Grenada: Site for a CCDRE Public Scholarship Initiative

Grenada, a 133 square mile island nation, located at the southern end of the Caribbean archipelago, has a population of approximately 100,000. On a good day, the PSU football stadium seats more people than the entire population of Grenada. This former British colony gained independence on February 7, 1974. The scars of colonialism and foreign dependency remain visible and fresh on the island today. The physical and economic infrastructures of Grenada are still geared toward producing crops and raw materials (cocoa, bananas, nutmeg and other spices) for export to Europe and North America. Of those three crops, banana has been, tradi- tionally, the most stable source of income. This is no longer the case. Plagued by a bacterial disease (moko disease), Grenada was unable to export bananas in 1997 and 1998. And, added to the plight of moko disease, is the US victory in the recent Banana Trade Wars. That victory removed what- ever little protections that Grenada, and other former European colonies, enjoyed regarding banana trade in European markets. In recent times, tourism, a much more volatile enterprise, has replaced bananas as the new “cash crop.” ii Grenada is beleaguered by many of the social mal- adies affecting small states: acute and persistent poverty, high and rising levels of unemployment and underemployment, high and rising teenage dropout rate, low and falling adult lit- eracy rates, and rampant teenage pregnancy. Despite these difficulties, the sprit and creativity of the Grenadian people remain undaunted. iii

The Project In this project, CCDRE works with five adjacent

rural Grenadian communities to generate a community vision and to map community assets. Then, based on the informa- tion gleaned from the visioning and mapping processes,

CCDRE will work with the five communities to generate community development projects and seek external funding to help implement them.

The project is conducted in a series of phases. Phase one began in August 2002. Dr. Baptiste, a faculty in the Adult Education program at PSU and principal investigator, grew up in one of the five Grenadian communities. Through his relationship with community leaders he initiated a communi- ty mobilizing effort among the five communities in August 2002. Sparked by that initial mobilizing effort, the communi- ty leaders, in consultation with CCDRE, have put together a community consortium (Five Star United Hands—FSUH) and a community advisory council (CAC).

The five communities comprising the FSUH consortium are: Mt Fann, Mt Carmel, La Potterie, Marquis, and Hope. Nestled along the northeastern coastline of Grenada, these very scenic communities occupy a combined area of approxi- mately 1000 acres. About 90 percent of a total population of 1400 is of Afro-Caribbean descent. Literacy rates across the communities are low, averaging slightly below 25%. The

communities provide very limited employment opportunities for residents. For most resi- dents, the pri-

mary means of earning a living is through subsistence farm- ing. A few of them engage in fishing and craft production, while even fewer find employment in boat building and tourism. While rates of unemployment in these communities are not available, the low levels of literacy combined with the very limited opportunities for employment would suggest high levels of unemployment. Across the communities, resi- dents express concern about high levels of alcohol and drug use, high levels of teenage pregnancy, and a high incidence of both incest and sexual abuse.

In March 2003 a four-member CCDRE Grenada project team (three graduate students—two from Adult Education and one from Human Development and Family Studies—and Dr. Baptiste) will travel to Grenada to begin the community visioning and asset mapping processes. During the visit the CCDRE Grenada project team (CGPT) will train 10 commu- nity youth and a site manager to assist in the community visioning and asset mapping. Four teams of investigators— each headed by a CCDRE team member—will conduct the asset mapping. Each asset-mapping team will comprise at least two trained community youth. The trained community youth will complete the asset mapping.

In Summer 2003 members of the CGPT will return to Grenada (for a period of 6-8 weeks) to analyze the data col- lected during Spring 2003 and continue the visioning process. Data analysis will be conducted as a participatory process that involves the trained community youth and other

CCDRE does more than ‘help people fish’ or ‘teach people how to fish.’ The committee encourages people to ask ‘Why continue

fishing, or why continue fishing in this “

”

members on the community advisory council. The process will serve as a form of hands-on training in ethnographic data analysis for community residents and PSU graduate stu- dents. Findings from the analysis will be used to initiate criti- cal conversations with the entire community (via study cir- cles, popular theatre, community forums, and other popular education activities). The goal is to refine the community vision developed in Spring 2003, and to generate community project priorities consistent with that vision.

In Fall 2003, the CGPT (in collaboration with the Grenada community advisory council) will generate a final report on phase one of the project, and begin to write and submit conference papers, and journal articles. Based on the project priority list generated in phase one, the CAC, in col- laboration with members of the CGPT, will identify external funding sources and write and submit grant applications.

Benefits to Community Residents, PSU Students and Faculty

The opportunities in this project for individual and orga- nizational capacity building (including public scholarship) are numerous. Community residents stand to benefit signifi- cantly from their involvement in this project. They will develop a community vision, identify community resources to advance that vision, generate community development projects and increase overall civic engagement. Greater civic engagement, in turn, is likely to increase the level of partici- pation of rank and file residents in decisions that affect the whole community. Youths of the community will also be trained to facilitate community visioning processes, conduct community asset mapping, and to analyze ethnographic data. The visioning and mapping processes are also likely to create new local institutions and strengthen existing ones.

This is a public scholarship project. The students on this project are all preparing to become community organizers and participatory researchers and trainers. As such, the field- work in Grenada will give them invaluable real world experi- ence while exposing them to tough issues associated with working in cross-cultural contexts. The PSU students and faculty participating in this project will (in collaboration with community resident) develop, implement, and evaluate an asset-based community development (ABCD) model tailored for the particular Grenadian communities. That experience will lead to a better understanding of the model, its strengths and weaknesses, and, consequently, a better understanding of how to adapt it to particular contexts. The project will also enhance the students’ and faculty’s expertise in developing participatory training curricula and in facilitating participato- ry training.

In terms of “objective” socio-economic indicators (pover- ty and unemployment rates, truancy, adult literacy, teenaged pregnancy, health, etc.) the five rural Grenadian communities selected for this project are probably quite similar to many rural communities in the Caribbean, the United States or elsewhere. However, these rural Grenadian communities dif-

fer from poor North American rural communities in an important respect: their geo-political marginality. These are marginal communities existing within a marginal, tiny third world nation—Grenada—a former British colony that gained independence only 29 years ago. Ninety percent of the popu- lation of these communities descended from slaves. A major consideration in this project will be to examine how Grenada’s culture, colonial history, size and marginal status structure opportunities for development in the communities.

Through their involvement in this project, students and faculty will learn practical lessons about the challenges and complexities of collaboration between a first-world universi- ty (PSU) and marginalized third world rural communities.

For the faculty involved in this project, the experience will add an international dimension to their research and out- reach agenda and it (the experience) is certain to enrich their teaching. Finally, this project will also provide opportunities

for publishing for both students and faculty.!

The projects described in this paper are initiatives of CCDRE (Committee for Community-Directed Research and Education). Established in Fall 1998 by students, faculty and alumni of the Adult Education Program at University Park, CCDRE has grown into a university-wide, interdisciplinary initiative. A 23-member steering committee comprising fac- ulty and staff from fourteen (14) departments on two cam- puses—University Park and Harrisburg—now provides leg- islative oversight to CCDRE. The steering committee meets roughly twice per semester. An 18-member task force (four faculty and 14 graduate students) meets once a week to con- duct the day-to-day business of CCDRE. The current task force members come from seven departments—Adult Education, Art Education, Communication Arts and Sciences, Curriculum and Instruction, Instructional Systems, Geography, and Human Development and Family Studies. For more information about CCDRE please contact: Dr. Ian Baptiste, [email protected], or (814) 865-1958.

REFERENCES i G. Jenkins, C. Fegley, J. Smith, N. Nyanungo, K. Dowlath, & I. Baptiste, “A vision of change: creating the Committee for Community-Directed Research and Education.” Paper presented at the 2002 CASAE conference, OISE/University of Toronto, May 30-June 01, 2002. ii Grenada Statistical Office, Macro economic review. (St. George’s, Grenada: Ministry of Finance, 1998). iii Kairi Consultants, Ltd. Poverty assessment report, Grenada, v. 1, 2. (St. Michael, Barbados: The Caribbean Development Bank, 1999).

Ian Baptiste ([email protected]) is assistant professor of education.

Samuel F. Dennis, Jr.

Creating “Curriculum of Consequence”: Harrisburg

Collaborative Studio

Down the street, a small store advertises in Spanish, com- peting for customers with Pak’s Market on the corner. There are no McDonalds, Weis Markets or UniMarts. Many com- mercial properties are simply vacant, their windows painted over or broken out. Signs of abandonment are everywhere: row houses boarded up, row houses falling down, row houses burned out. Vacant lots sit mid-block like missing teeth, choked with weeds and full of garbage. Nevertheless, a few row houses here and there are freshly painted. And on several blocks, workers are putting the finishing touches on brand new ones. “Now Leasing!” a banner exclaims. For better or for worse, the signs of change are on every block.

Understanding neighborhood change On every block are people, lots of people. Here a woman

waters a flowerbox. Over there kids run down the sidewalk laughing, an elderly women calling out, “slow down and mind the street!” A horn sounds and from an open car window, a man yells a greeting, barely audible over the thump-thumpa- thump of the car’s speakers. An older man stops to speak with a group of women sitting together on a row house stoop.

Young kids wearing backpacks pour out of Danzante, a local community arts center, while several blocks away a tangle of rowdy teens cluster around the “SuperTaco” vending truck. In the midst of a busy afternoon, our Penn State van pulls into the crowded parking lot of the Community Action Commission, located almost exactly at the center of the South Allison Hill community in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

Neighborhoods change. This is particularly true of older, inner-city neighborhoods—such as South Allison Hill—locat- ed in former industrial cities. Capital investment ebbs and flows and ebbs again. Kids grow up and leave home. Families move out to the suburbs. Immigrants arrive, always hopeful. Although some long-time residents remain in South Allison Hill, many recent arrivals are gone within months. Still, when asked about the condition of their neighborhood, most resi- dents agree that change has been for the worse. Crime is high on their list of worries, particularly violent crime related to drug trafficking. But mostly their concerns center on the phys- ical condition of their neighborhood: trash, abandoned build- ings, lack of parks and green spaces, lack of trees and too few places for kids and families. In short, most of the issues iden-

Set out on the sidewalk in front of a large brick church, a sandwich-board signannounces the times for Spanish-language services and meeting times for the Indonesian and Korean fellowships. Down the block, another church is up for sale.

Abandoned by the Presbyterians who built it, and used most recently by the Emmanuel

Spanish Methodist congregation, its large sanctuary, gymnasium and Sunday school

classrooms sit empty and quiet. Across the street, a group of Muslim men from Niger

meets in the basement of a large stone church shared by Methodist and Baptist con-

gregations.

tified by neighborhood residents fall somewhere within the realm of community public space.

Landscape architects are primarily concerned with the plan- ning, design, construction and management of public spaces. In the urban context, think of parks like Central Park in New York city or the massive network of green spaces comprising Fairmount Park in Philadelphia. On the neighborhood scale, think of playgrounds, public gardens, schoolyards and the street trees, benches, sidewalks and streetlights that make up the streetscape. But don’t overlook the neighborhood itself: the arrangement of the houses and their distance from the street and from each other, the number and size of lots, the location and size of neighborhood parks, the length of each block, the width of the street, and the system of streets. Community design, as we call the planning and design of neighborhoods, has a wonderful double meaning. It is both the design of communities and the practice of design with com- munities.

The long tradition of service learning within landscape architectural education sits squarely in both perspectives, and seeks to help communities improve the condition of their pub- lic spaces. As an academic discipline, landscape architec- ture—like medicine, law and business administration—offers a professional curriculum; therefore, its approach to service- learning emerges from the “fee-for-service” model of profes- sional practice. Typically, students participating in service- learning projects provide technical assistance to communities experiencing change, while gaining valuable experience work- ing with “real world” clients. Public scholarship, however, redirects attention from pre-professional service provision toward more meaningful community engagement. It means not only helping communities adapt to change but also work- ing in partnership with communities to build a shared under- standing of neighborhood change.

Applying the principles of public scholarship in the Harrisburg Collaborative Studio

The idea for the Harrisburg Collaborative Studio developed from my research on the urban design components of compre- hensive community initiatives (CCIs). CCIs are community and economic development programs that target specific geo- graphic units (like neighborhoods or census tracts), rather than particular populations (like teenage mothers or diabetics). Such initiatives saturate neighborhoods with comprehensive services aimed at developing both physical and social resources. Their urban design components are built upon the belief that efforts aimed at improving neighborhood land- scapes will produce other community benefits as well. Reducing physical disorder, for example, while creating pub- lic green spaces should reduce crime, increase scholastic achievement, and improve community well-being. My research evaluates the degree to which such community design projects produce the intended social outcomes.

During a research trip focused on the Harrisburg Enterprise Community Initiative, I learned that South Allison Hill was the

recipient of a Comprehensive Service Plan (CSP), a statewide neighborhood revitalization initiative. Funded (through tax credits) by the Pennsylvania Department of Community and Economic Development, this CCI was administered by the Community Action Commission, a local nonprofit social serv- ice agency. The ten-year South Allison Hill Neighborhood Action Strategy—implemented in 1998 after a two-year par- ticipatory community planning process—placed high hopes on the power of a revitalized neighborhood landscape to generate positive changes throughout the community. I began to attend monthly meetings of the newly-formed residents’ association, and during one planning session someone asked me, “What can Penn State do to help?” And I thought: what could Penn State do, indeed!

In the spring of 2001, I developed a proposal for a service- learning course in community design as a fifth-year capstone studio experience. Before submitting the proposal, however, I received an announcement for course enhancement grants from Penn State’s Public Scholarship Associates. Already feel- ing vaguely uncomfortable with service learning as an out- growth of both the charity model of community service and the internship/service model of professional practice, I found in public scholarship a way of re-thinking community-based coursework. Moving from service-learning to public scholar- ship demanded primarily a stronger bond with community partners. It required a tightened focus on collaboration, rather than charity or service; on mutually identifying issues, proj- ects and outcomes. Furthermore, public scholarship stressed measurable outcomes consistent with the three facets of our land-grant mission: outreach, teaching and research. Community outcomes should be clearly articulated and bench- marks agreed upon. Learning outcomes should include civic engagement, as well the opportunity to apply skills and knowl- edge to community problems. Research outcomes should fit into the university’s narrow definition of faculty scholarship, with emphasis on peer-reviewed publication within discipli- nary journals.

As a Public Scholarship Associate, I developed the course as an interdisciplinary studio focused on neighborhood change. Although some participants are fifth-year landscape architecture students, others come from a variety of disciplines and include both graduate and undergraduate students. The educational setting of the Harrisburg Collaborative Studio is grounded in theories of experiential learning, particularly in the reflective practices developing from Kolb’s well-known definition of learning as “the process whereby knowledge is

created through the transformation of experience.” i For every- one in the course, including community members and myself, we move through cycles of confusion/doubt => hypothesis development => hypothesis testing (concrete experience) => reflection (assessment). Put more concretely, we collectively identify issue(s), link causes and effects, develop and imple- ment plans, and finally, evaluate the experience (in terms of both the process employed and the outcomes generated). Community partners and I provide continuity from year to

year, serving as stewards of the process and keepers of the knowledge generated during each collaboration.

Examples from the first Harrisburg Collaborative Studio experience, spring 2002

Community Mapping. Early in the first semester, our com- munity partners asked many questions about the spatial make- up of their neighborhood. How many buildings are aban- doned? Who owns which building? Where are our community assets? Where are all the youth-serving organizations? Each resident or organization held some of the answers, but much of the information was scattered in a variety of locations or sim- ply too difficult to obtain. Therefore, one important project involved mapping community assets, mapping opportunities, mapping relationships, and making connections between infor- mation (about landlords, for example) and the condition of the physical neighborhood. Neighborhood residents used this information to organize trips to city council meetings, to push for greater attention to dangerously deteriorated structures in the neighborhood, and to identify opportunities for new recre- ational, residential and commercial development. For students, these projects provided an opportunity to publicly present the results of their collaboration. As one student wrote, “The best part of the [presentation] was having people come up to us with specific questions or concerns and being able to answer them….This networking of information and resources is some- thing that I believe will be the first step in drawing people together and giving them the tools to take the next steps.” More important, perhaps, the students came to understand one particular theory of neighborhood change—in this case, that grassroots access to neighborhood information leads to actions that produce results.

Arts-Based Community Development. Another student rec- ognized right away that the arts already had a strong, positive presence in the neighborhood. Working with the director of Danzante, the student learned of their need for gallery space and apartments for visiting artists. Capitalizing on city efforts already underway to improve corridors into the city, their col- laboration produced a plan for an Arts Institute occupying mul- tiple sites along an Avenue of the Arts. The insight developed through this partnership was that too much of the good work in the neighborhood was taking place indoors and out of sight. Kids, in particular, were making art, performing music and dance, and otherwise working together in very positive ways, but always hidden from community view. The Avenue of the Arts proposed to make the arts a more visible contributor to the neighborhood.

Community Green Space. Many residents and neighbor- hood organizations had ideas about connecting the desperate need for open space in the community with the large (and growing) number of vacant lots. Several student teams worked with community partners to plan, design and in one case, con- struct, small neighborhood parks. These green spaces offered places for learning about the life sciences, plots for growing vegetables and flowers, and gardens for visiting with neigh-

bors. Most important, the sites became highly visible places of gathering, where community residents could work together to improve even a small area in the neighborhood. In at least one case, these public acts drew attention from other residents who asked “What are you guys doing?” and “Can I help?”

Neighborhood Youth as Assets. Working with census data, one group of Penn State students recognized that youth made up a surprisingly large segment of the neighborhood popula- tion. Working with community partners, they also learned that youth from South Allison Hill were over-represented among offenders in the juvenile justice system. It was clear, these stu- dents thought, that neighborhood youth needed more outlets for creative expression and more opportunities to make posi- tive contributions to the community. However, when such “youth issues” were presented during one of the residents’ association meetings, a well-meaning adult resident respond- ed, “Kids? Kids are the problem.” Thus, youth development became one of the most challenging issues of the semester. Indeed, due in large part to the negative perception of neigh- borhood youth, the second semester of the Harrisburg Collaborative Studio (spring 2003) is focused entirely on youth development projects. Working with youth from three after-school programs, we are creating a process that gives voice to youth concerns and hopes for South Allison Hill. Together we are developing projects that allow youth to make meaningful, and highly visible, contributions to their neigh- borhood.

Keeping the focus on scholarship Our shared understanding of neighborhood change emerges

from the constant cycle of reflecting with our community part- ners on our common experiences. We are always mindful of the links between theories of change, processes aimed at affecting change and expected community outcomes. That is, we understand that the predicted outcomes of each communi- ty plan or program or intervention are based upon assumptions about how neighborhoods change, regardless of whether those assumptions are clearly stated or simply implied. I am not teaching a course that privileges one particular theory of neighborhood change, nor am I providing a survey of all theo- ries of neighborhood change. Rather, I am providing an expe- rience that forces students to confront the complex field of neighborhood change, weighing different theories as they emerge from experience.

Students often come to the course convinced that they understand the urban condition. Their explanations are as sim- plistic as they are tightly held. Among the most frequent expla- nations are: economic restructuring, suburban sprawl, erosion of family values, structural racism, poor personal decisions, consumerism, and drugs. Although they may disagree about root causes, they mostly agree that there exists one root cause. Therefore, one of my overarching goals is to provide an expe- rience that forces each student to confront their own unexam- ined assumptions about the causes of urban neighborhood con- ditions. I expect students to compare received wisdom with the

material and social reality of South Allison Hill. Although stu- dents find the lack of “answers” from the teacher uncomfort- able, the best learning occurs when confusion, doubt and trou- bling questions propel them down a path of individual discov- ery.

The course is challenging in other respects as well. The 15- week semester schedule is perhaps our most frustrating con- straint. Our model of collaboration requires that we spend time during the beginning of each semester working closely with community partners to identify projects that address neighbor- hood concerns. At the same time, students spend much of their energy mapping neighborhood assets as a way to understand South Allison Hill, its history, its social geography and its res- idents. These processes are often overwhelming, but are criti- cal to the learning experience. As one student wrote: “…as dis- organized and chaotic as things seemed for a lot of the semes- ter, it really did come together in the end….it would have been much harder to get to know the community and create projects that were really effective had we not started out with the asset mapping project.” Uncertainty will always be a hallmark of this course, and that is as it should be. Students (and faculty and community residents) should never be comfortable with easy answers. Again, public scholarship begins with uncom- fortable questions, and in the end, students come to this under- standing on their own. As one student wrote, “the class was a great success and a great opportunity, despite a lot of skepti- cism throughout the semester.” I would add, because of a lot of skepticism.

Public scholarship demands sustained community engage- ment, a commitment that make my work more meaningful, rel- evant, and rewarding. Like other public scholarship initiatives, the greatest challenge, as well as the greatest reward, lies in serving faculty (research), student (learning) and community (outreach) interests simultaneously. And it isn’t that these experiences make us feel good (sometimes they don’t), or even that they help us do good (sometimes we don’t), but that through these experiences, we all—that is, the faculty, the stu- dents and the university—become better citizens. One of my favorite buzzwords of the moment is “curriculum of conse- quence.” Public scholarship—whether in South Allison Hill, or Philadelphia or rural Centre County—should produce posi- tive community outcomes. On one level, public scholarship helps faculty, students and the university take more responsi- bility for the conditions in which we are embedded. But more than this, public scholarship allows Penn State and our partner communities to take mutual responsibility for the future of the Commonwealth. Through my course, the residents of South Allison Hill are trying to bring changes to the university at the same time we are working together to bring positive changes to their neighborhood. Our shared hope is that the university- community partnership makes a material difference in the lives

of neighborhood residents. !

REFERENCES: i David A. Kolb, Experiential Learning: Experience as the Source of Learning and Development. (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1984).

Samuel F. Dennis, Jr. ([email protected]) is assistant professor of landscape architecture and geography.

JoAnn C. Vender

A Model for Public Scholarship: The Juárez,

Mexico Project

After a semester of background preparation that included discussions with faculty members across many disciplines and team research resulting in a 148-page field guide, partici- pating students traveled to Ciudad Juárez, Mexico, where they constructed a single-family home for recent migrants to the area. The students maintained written and photographic journals during the trip and submitted excerpts upon their return. During the fall semester, the class reconvened for several sessions of reflection and discussion; assignments comprised writing addenda to the field guide, editorials on some aspect of the trip that would be appropriate for publica- tion in campus or hometown newspapers, and completing an open-ended evaluation of the experience. Throughout the process, students built leadership skills through networking, fundraising, and making presentations to school students and civic groups in their home communities. This three-part sequence builds upon a model initiated by Lakshman Yapa, the Philadelphia Field Project.i It is serving as a model for other public scholarship projects, including “Geography 297H-Experiences in International Service Learning: HOINA, India” ii and “Architectural Engineering 297/497H: Tribal Housing.” iii

Juárez project was the brainchild of Jane Peacock, direc- tor of the WIC nutrition program for the state of New Mexico and a Penn State alumna, and Cheryl Achterberg, Dean of Penn State’s Schreyer Honors College. The two have worked together on nutrition education projects for the past decade and a half. Their idea came to light in the form of a course developed and piloted in Penn State’s Department of Geography, entitled “International Experiences in Service Learning: Juárez, Mexico.” It is a manifestation of both the Schreyer Honors College’s three-part mission (achieving aca- demic excellence with integrity, building a global perspec- tive, and creating opportunities for leadership and civic engagement) and the Department of Geography’s initiatives in global issues and service learning.

Class members were undergraduate Honors students, nearly three-quarters of whom had just completed their first year at Penn State. It was a life-transforming experience, not only for Dulce and Adolfo, the young couple for whom the group constructed a house during the course of a week, but also for the twenty students and four instructors who labored physically and mentally to make it possible.

P iloted as a model of a three-part public scholarship course, “Geography 298H-

Experiences in International Service Learning: Juárez, Mexico” was designed

to engage participants in a meaningful community development project while learn-

ing about the conditions, challenges, and prospects of a specific world region. The

course was developed by the Schreyer Honors College and the Department of

Geography at Penn State during the spring, summer, and fall semesters of 2001.

Part 1: Preparation The group had worked throughout the spring 2001

semester to learn about the conditions, challenges, and prospects of the Juárez-El Paso border region. During class meetings, faculty from geography, women’s studies, architec- ture, landscape architecture, architectural engineering, and marketing shared their expertise on poverty, economic devel- opment, social and demographic characteristics of the area, reading the landscape, sustainable design practices, home construction, fundraising, and service learning.

For almost all students, it was their first introduction to the discipline of geography and its integrative perspective. It was also their first foray into preparing publication-quality work. While each individual focused on a particular aspect of the milieu that comprises Ciudad Juárez, they worked together in teams of three or four to fashion coherent chap- ters on the landscape, population, infrastructure, politics and administration, economic development, and cultural patterns of the area. The result was a 148-page field guide, entitled Geographic Perspectives on Ciudad Juárez, Mexico. iv The volume began with an overview of the physical landscape, land use, environmental concerns, and cultural landscape of the region. The next chapter discussed issues of demogra- phy, health, nutrition, and education. The third focused on housing and services available to Juárez residents. The fourth chapter surveyed historical and contemporary politics, border relations, and the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA). The fifth covered economic founda- tions of El Paso del Norte, the maquiladora industry, formal and informal sectors of Juárez’s contemporary economy, and the city’s economic development in the larger contexts of Mexico and the U.S. The final chapter offered insight into aspects of contemporary Mexican culture, including religion, holidays and celebrations, literature, theater, art, music and dance, and family entertainment.

But before the group could depart, the students had to raise $3,000 to cover construction costs for the home they would build. They did this by drawing on community con- nections, linking university students with organizations and individuals in their home communities, and ultimately with the community in Ciudad Juárez in which they served. Participants received donations from high school student councils, church youth groups, Rotary Clubs, Lions Clubs, building contractors, family, and friends. To thank these sponsors, the students sent postcards from the field and made presentations about the experience at group meetings in the summer and fall. Student travel was funded in part by Schreyer Ambassador Travel Grants, and a grant from the Kellogg Foundation Leadership for Institutional Change (LINC) Initiative helped to underwrite logistical expenses.

Part II: Participation The group arrived in El Paso on Saturday, May 12 and

crossed the border into Juárez on Sunday. After visiting Arbol de Vida (Tree of Life) orphanage and playing with the

children there, they toured the worksite in a colonia (shanty- town neighborhood) on the far western edge of Ciudad Juárez. The physical labor began on Monday. Tom C. com- mented in his journal that day,

Yesterday, we had seen the cement founda- tion that was put in before we arrived, and today I was a little nervous because the time we actually begin the work that we had pre- pared for and anticipated for so long was so near. I had wondered with some of my classmates if we would be able to do what it took to build the house… Our first day soothed my worries as everyone was able to contribute in a significant way, and the coordinating instruction was smooth.

That “coordinating instruction” came primarily from Bob Blakemore, founder of Manos de Dios (Hands of God) mis- sion and our construction leader. He was ably assisted by David Riley—Assoc. Professor of Architectural Engineering at Penn State; Rev. Dan Klooster—director of Gateway Mission Training Center, an El Paso organization that coordi- nates cross-cultural service experiences in Mexico for young people and adults from the United States; and Eufemio Loya—Bob’s apprentice. Board by board, the house frame went up, followed by drywall, chicken wire, and stucco. Eric wrote in the group journal on Wednesday, May 16, our third day of construction:

“Woah,” was my initial reaction when we all pulled up to the worksite this morning. I must have been too tired to notice yesterday when we left, but today we had what actual- ly looked like a house…When I started framing the interior walls, I was still out- side. But by the end of today, I stepped back and realized that I was all of a sudden inside a house. The front door became a front door, not just an area…

As a geographer, I was struck by the fact that from our worksite on the edge of Anapra, we could look to the west and see a tall white pylon on a dusty desert bluff, marking the point at which the states of Texas, New Mexico, and Chihuahua come together; look to the south and see the Juárez Mountains rising in the distance beyond the colonias; look to the east and see the bustling central business districts of Juárez and El Paso; and, most striking of all, look directly to the north to see the edge of Anapra pushing against the brown ditch of the Rio Grande—marking the U.S.-Mexico border—and, in the distance, a swath of green along base of the Franklin Mountains: the country clubs of El Paso, strik- ingly verdant compared to the arid colonia in which we worked.

But some of the most memorable aspects of the trip for many of the group occurred during interactions with the neighborhood children. Shortly after we arrived at the work- site, several children approached and offered to help with car- rying boards, fetching tools, pounding nails. By mid-after- noon Tuesday, there remained few tasks with which the chil- dren could assist, so we formed play-teams to channel the their energies constructively and keep them out of the work- ers’ way. The kids enchanted us and exhausted us. Together we drew pictures, read stories, tossed a ball around, held a construction contest with scraps of wood, played caballito (piggy-back rides)… Then they showed us around their neighborhood: small groups visited a few the kids’ homes at different times during the week, and just before the house dedication on Friday, they proudly gave us a “grand tour.” Mike shared in the group journal on Thursday, May 17:

I got to see Rosio, Jesus, and Rosalba’s house today…Their family moved into Anapra from a town near Durango; they lost the kids’ papers and can’t afford the regis- tration fee, so they cannot attend school…The thing that struck me about their house was that although there were few pos- sessions and living conditions were cramped, everything seemed to be very well cared for… I saw a family of seven looking at difficulty, but still happy about life. That gave me hope.

We put the finishing touches on the house Friday morning and held a dedication ceremony after lunch. There wasn’t a dry eye among us. Cori observed in her journal,

Today was incredible…I was fine one minute, then the next thing I knew I was opening my mouth to ask Marimar to trans- late a thank you to the family for the experi- ence they allowed us to have, and the tears just came flooding out…Today I finally felt a true connection with the people here in Mexico, in our little corner of Anapra. The children’s laughter rang with an extra sweet sound today, and I just felt so…good!

One lesson the students learned rather quickly was that although secondary research offers an essential foundation for understanding a topic or situation, experiential learning provides a deeper level of understanding. Tom B. wrote in his journal on Thursday,

My highlight of this day was the reflection at the end of the day. This went on for about two hours. Everyone gave heart-felt insights on the experience, attesting to the amazing

impact it had on each one of us. It became clear that there are many facets to an expe- rience like this. The trip allowed us to cre- ate something with our hands that we can be proud of. It also brought the group closer together as friends. Finally, it allowed us to make a difference in the lives of people who truly needed our help…Tonight’s reflection attests to the great potential of service learning to change the lives of students. Conventional classroom learning is educa- tional, but it is easy to intellectualize the world’s problems and forget that they are real. This dispassionate distance cannot exist in a service learning environment.

Lacey, one of two juniors on the trip, agreed, writing,

Before traveling to Juárez, I searched for information concerning the nutritional sta- tus of Mexico…Reading several books and articles, I felt that I had a good understand- ing of the food patterns and nutritional needs of Mexicans throughout the country… Nothing could have prepared me for the reality of Ciudad Juárez. It was not until Mexicans had faces and names that I began to understand the extent of their problems and even still, the beauty of their being. As we worked together in the community, my eyes were opened to the hungry people all around me.

Lacey returned to Juárez later in the summer to conduct research for her honors thesis, which deals with nutrition edu- cation. “My experience in Ciudad Juárez has greatly affected the way that I study nutrition,” she observed. “It has made a permanent impact on my life.”

Part III: Reflection and Sharing An essential element of service learning that distinguishes

it from service projects is the reflection—on the service per- formed, its context, and its impacts upon the people served and serving—which occurs before, during, and after the actu- al experience. The follow-up for this experience consisted of several class meetings during which participants reflected orally and in writing on the Juárez experience. In her evalua- tion, one student described the course as follows:

The objective of this project was to provide a true service learning experience in the sense of incorporating three parts: prepara- tion, action and reflection. The preparation part allowed us to become educated of the issues, landscape, culture and lifestyle of

those we would be working and also provid- ed a chance for group members to get to know one another and bond as a group. The action part involved actually traveling to Ciudad Juarez, Mexico and working with Gateway Missions to accomplish our goal of building a home for a poor family while fur- ther examining the issues we had researched the previous semester. The reflection part of the trip was the culmination of our experi- ence and had the objective of drawing con- clusions and hypotheses from the things we learned and developing ways in which we could use the knowledge gained now and in the future.

Some students were initially disappointed by how differ- ent their research findings were compared with what they saw on site. But they came to realize that the partial knowl- edge they gained during the spring semester was extremely valuable, if incomplete. As a result, their first assignment when the class re-convened in the fall semester was for each student to write an addendum to the field guide, commenting on the similarities and differences between their secondary research and observation. Farzad noted,

As a dynamic process, land use in Juárez is affected by so many interrelated, continually changing, and intangible forces that trying to capture them all in [secondary] research is extremely difficult… Although we can never escape our own biases, primary research in addition to secondary research brings us closer to the truth than either type can on its own.

For their second assignment, the students wrote editorials suitable for publication in campus or hometown newspapers, based on some aspect of what they researched, observed, or experienced during the course and/or trip. Themes on which they wrote included the politics of immigration and border relations; economic conditions and the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA); crime—notably drug trafficking and serial murders of young women in Juárez; culture and community; children and education; and community service and altruism. At least one editorial has been published in a local newspaper. v

At the end of the fall semester, students completed a 17- item, open-ended evaluation. The same questions are being used across Schreyer Honors College-sponsored public schol- arship projects in order to improve upon each course and to draw comparisons among the projects.vi Evaluations of the Juárez course were positive. All of the participants would recommend the course to other students, and some have already done so enthusiastically. Many of the suggestions for

improvement concerned a perception of disorganization— particularly during the first semester—in terms of specific plans for the trip and fundraising. These students did recog- nize, however, that most of the uncertainty resulted from this being the inaugural offering of the course, and that they were helping to establish the groundwork on which future classes would build. One student wrote, “This was its first year, so, of course, there were lots of bumps along the way, but it was organized to be as educational and also life-changing.” Another noted,

The class let me learn a lot about not only Juarez Mexico, but also Penn State, because I got to see the class being created, as well as taking it and learning its content. I think that made the class very difficult as well as educational. While it gave some flexibility, such as in the assignments, and the meeting times, it also forced us to meet Friday after- noons, and even during canning weekends! It also forced us to be patient, as many of the details of the class we not prepared well in advance. That aspect did not bother me too much, but I can see where the vagueness of the plans frustrated other people at first.

The following three evaluation excerpts illustrate the range of impacts the Juarez experience had on participating students:

This project met and exceeded my expecta- tions. To be perfectly honest, I felt a little shaky going into it. I cared about the infor- mation we had learned, but not having been there, it still seemed more distant and imper- sonal. I also had a feeling that the work we were going to be doing was maybe just a kick-fix handout kind of thing. I was also worried because I didn’t know many of the other group members as well as they seemed to know each other. As it turns out, I real- ized that our work truly was valuable and the lessons derived are priceless, and the people that I had the privilege of spending that week with are some of the kindest, most interesting people I have met.

When we were leaving the work site for the last time, I knew that we would probably never see those kids again. And though we could leave and return to a comfortable life, life for those kids would continue to be hard. I was crying and I looked at Tom and he was crying, I think at that moment I under- stood exactly why we had come there. It’s

not enough just to understand the world, you have to go out and be a part of it. Sitting in the basement of Atherton and reading about what Juarez is like, the problems and the poverty, would not have reduced me to tears. I needed to first become a part of place.

Before entering the classroom, I assumed that the Juarez project’s main focus was on community service and the personal work and rewards that are intrinsic parts of such service. However, I believe that the most rewarding objective turned out to be the challenge to compare primary and second- ary research about the community in which our service was performed. This objective connected academics, emotions, and service, therefore providing a much greater, educat- ed, meaningful impact.

Thinking about such impacts, Cheryl Achterberg observed that “Service learning differs from volunteerism because it is a planned activity that integrates academic learning with service to the community or society.” She continued,

Service learning is powerful. It is also an ideal means through which to teach leader- ship. It is the kind of learning that keeps teaching, long after the student has left the ‘classroom.’ For some students, even a sin- gle service learning experience can be life changing. This course was a good example. Although service learning is costly, I am convinced that it’s a sound investment and an important development in teaching and learning.

The writings and conversations of the Juárez participants reflect sentiments of appreciation, accomplishment, and hope. Students returned from the experience with a broader per- spective on living conditions along the Texas-Mexico border and global issues, as well as new perspectives on their own lives and potential contributions to society. Several partici- pants enrolled or intend to enroll in advanced courses on poverty and development issues, and many have expressed a desire to continue their involvement in service-learning proj- ects and leadership initiatives. Their enthusiasm has generat- ed a great deal of interest among other Schreyer Scholars to participate in future public scholarship projects. Student evaluations of the project were positive, and the course or elements from it are serving as a model for public scholarship initiatives in departments of architectural engineering, geog-

raphy, and landscape architecture. ! REFERENCES

i For information about the Philadelphia Field Project, visit URL: http://www.geog.psu.edu/courses/phila; see also page 51 of this volume. ii Homes of the Indian Nation (HOINA) is a non-profit organization started by Darlene Large, a Distinguished Alumna of Penn State. For information about the project, visit URL: http://web.shc.psu.edu/~hoina and http://www.hoina.org. iii For information about the American Indian Housing Initiative, visit URL: http://www.engr.psu.edu/greenbuild; see also page 41 of this volume. iv An electronic version of the field guide is available on the course website at http://web.shc.psu.edu/~juarez. The field guide is also available at Penn State’s Paterno Library, call number HN120.C48G46 2001. v Thatcher, Corinne, “In Mexico, Reality Defined,” Centre Daily Times, Dec. 15, 2001. vi As of spring 2003, projects include Juárez, Mexico; HOINA-India (both offered through the department of geog- raphy); and Tribal Housing (offered through architectural engineering).

JoAnn C. (Jodi) Vender ([email protected]) a Ph.D. Candidate in Penn State’s Department of Geography. She has worked for the Schreyer Honors College as Assistant Coordinator of Student Programs (2000-2002) and Coordinator of Student Programs and Service Learning (2002-2003).

Lakshman Yapa

Rethinking Urban Poverty: The Philadelphia Field

Project

The course consists of three parts. First, students com- plete a semester of coursework on social theories of poverty. Second, they spend five weeks in the summer living, work- ing, volunteering, and conducting research and fieldwork in a low-income neighborhood. Third, they spend the following semester in a seminar of discussion, reflection, and intensive writing. When appropriate, some students return to the com- munity to present their findings and results.

The Philadelphia Field Project proposes a new theory of public scholarship and service learning. The theory claims that academic discourse is implicated as a causal agent in the very problems we wish to solve using that knowledge. When addressing problems such as poverty, social scientists begin by dividing the world into two realms: the problem and the non-problem. The object of study is the problem, which con- sists of particular groups of people and places. But separated from the problem is the academic who locates himself in the realm of the non-problem. He proceeds to study the problem from a presumed position of detached subjecthood and objec- tive neutrality. Contrary to this, I argue social science dis- course is actually implicated in creating the very problems it intends to solve. Moreover, the manner in which scholars

exempt themselves from some responsibility for social condi- tions hinders our ability to find good long-term solutions to social problems.i

The principal objectives of the course Rethinking Urban Poverty: Philadelphia Field Project are to elaborate the pre- vious argument, create alternative knowledge, empower the community to engage “quality of life” issues, help students find agency through their academic skills and redefine the university-community relationship. While public scholarship and service learning benefit the community, they also help the university tremendously by producing a different kind of graduate — a critical thinker with a high sense of civic responsibility. It is my hope that through such a model of scholarship, the university will come to adopt research priori- ties and teaching methods that are informed by its relation- ship to the community

An Alternative Approach to Urban Poverty In the first part of the course we study social theories of

poverty. That discussion is also used to illustrate the broader theme that conventional academic discourses are implicated in creating social problems. What follows is the founding

The Philadelphia Field Project, which started in 1998, is a Pennsylvania StateUniversity public scholarship course based in West Philadelphia. It is part of a larger project to create a community-university partnership to seek new solutions to

old problems in inner city neighborhoods. In the program, a select group of under-

graduates from a variety of disciplines undertake research projects designed to

advance their understanding of specific aspects of urban life and poverty.

logic of the Philadelphia Field Project. The conventional approach defines poverty as an “economic” problem. People are poor because they don’t earn enough money. The solu- tion seems straightforward: investment, economic growth, more jobs, improved education, and so on. History shows that such “economic solutions” have offered little help to the long-term resolution of the problem. In the 1990s, during one of the longest periods of economic expansion in our country, more than three-fourths of the residents in several census tracts in West Philadelphia were officially poor. A three-person household with one person working full-time at minimum wage will still fall below the official poverty line. It is not possible for the unskilled poor in America to climb above poverty-level incomes while they compete in global labor markets of non-union labor working for a fraction of the minimum wage in America. It is difficult to see how or why firms would locate in the inner cities of the United States when they have access to a global workforce that is far cheaper.

Notwithstanding, conventional wisdom insists on finding an “economic answer” to what is represented as an “obvious economic problem.” Presenting “poverty” as a problem that has “economic” solutions is an example of how academic discourse is implicated in creating problems we wish to solve. There are two serious problems with the conventional view that I have described: first, as I have argued, there are no economic answers to the problem of “poverty”; second,that approach takes attention away from thinking about alternative ways of looking at the age-old questions of hunger, malnutrition, health, and housing.

In the Philadelphia Field Project, instead of asking “What causes poverty?” or “Why do some households not make enough money?” we ask direct concrete questions about what causes poor nutrition, lack of housing and transport, and ill health. The answers we get to such direct questions are dif- ferent from those that simply focus on increased income. Nutritionists and home economists have shown that it is pos- sible to get good nutrition for far less money that what peo- ple spend now with only slight changes in the patterns of purchase and consumption. The few grocery stores that exist in West Philadelphia carry processed convenience foods sold at high prices. There are no food co-ops in the area that buy in bulk and sell at reasonable prices. Vegetable gardens are popular, but only among the very old or among first-genera- tion immigrants from Asia. Schools have no lesson units or resources to counter the influence of the daily bombardment of fast-food commercials. Food and nutrition are good sites at which we can address issues of “poverty” without getting hopelessly trapped by the income argument.

Next, consider housing in West Philadelphia. This is a high-density residential area of energy-efficient row hous- es. The area also has a large number of vacant and aban- doned structures. Habitat for Humanity in West Philadelphia has demonstrated how such row houses can be rehabilitated for a fraction of the usual construction costs. Thinking out-

side the strict “economic box” allows us to explore feasible ways to get better nutrition, look to preventive health, expand the Habitat for Humanity model for rehabilitating the exist- ing housing stock, increase transport options beyond the automobile, and so on. Of course, these represent the many ways by which we can increase the “effective incomes” of poor people. The answers lie in uncovering internal resources, harnessing community assets that already exist, helping residents to think this way and thus empowering local agents of change. The purpose of establishing a univer- sity-community partnership is to use undergraduates’ aca- demic competencies to map such assets and work with the community to harness resources to improve the residents’ general quality of life.

Student Research In the past five years the student participants in the

Philadelphia Field Project have come from diverse home backgrounds: rural, suburban, and urban. Living and work- ing in the inner city provided a rich cultural experience for students from rural and suburban areas. For those students who grew up in inner-city neighborhoods, the Field Project helped to highlight the strengths of their neighborhoods and gave them a language to re-valorize such areas. Through their interactions with community leaders, city government officials, staff of non-governmental organizations and resi- dents of the community, all our students developed a greater sense of confidence in dealing with “out-of-class” life situa- tions. Here are the words of a young, white student who came from an affluent suburb:

From [the Philadelphia] experience, I learned to go beyond economics and came to appreciate the role of culture in the building of a strong community. I was able to overcome the burden of cultural stereotypes and see the destructiveness of seeing inner city African- Americans as the “problem other.” Through my close contact with the community, I sensed the power of hope, faith, and the immense love that does exist. It is true that drugs were sold in the neighborhood that I lived in, and there were shootings, crime, and violence. But this was also a community of families, of loving parents and trusting children, of kind people with hope and faith. Understanding that was the most important thing of the summer of the Field Project.

Students research from the past years have included projects in nutrition, consumer choices and values, web page con- struction for local enterprise development, transport, home schooling, role of sports, and community asset mapping.

Benefits to the Community Because of the focus on income alone, residents have

become discouraged over the years about their failed efforts to climb out of poverty. The field project, on the other hand,

offers community members new ways to think about old problems by looking at culture, geography, and architecture. It invites them to think outside the strict “income” box and focus directly on things such as nutrition, housing, child-care, and transport. It shows how the quality of life can be improved through the efforts of individuals working with the community. Such thinking is not intended to replace existing programs but to complement what is being done by the State and other community organizations.

The Field Project has formed working partnerships with several community organizations, including The Lancaster Avenue Business Association, Belmont Improvement Association, SOMAD (South of Market Against Drugs), Friends Rehabilitation Program, Habitat for Humanity, and the People’s Emergency Center. Our students have worked as interns and volunteers in these organizations while con- ducting their research. Examples of tangible project benefits to the community include the web page constructed for the Lancaster Avenue Business Association by students of the Smeal College of Business and the College of Information Science Technology, and the creation of a geographical infor- mation system for mapping community assets. For a brief description of how some individuals in the community per- ceived the Field Project, please see the web page in http://www.outreach.psu.edu/news/magazine/Vol_2.3/yapa.ht ml.

Advantages to the University The Philadelphia Field Project contributes to the many

diversity initiatives already underway at Penn State. By com- bining teaching, research, and service, the project implements our university president’s call to heed the Kellogg Commission recommendation to create an “engaged” univer- sity. Several graduates of the program have gone onto careers in public service such as Americorps, and to jobs and graduate school in fields related to service learning. The proj- ect helps the university to train graduates who are better equipped to serve society. With the expansion of the Philadelphia Field Project model it is my hope that the uni- versity will change how it researches and what it teaches about topics such as poverty and race. In addition, this model of public scholarship provides an opportunity to address the argument that conventional social science is implicated in creating the social problems we face. The Field Project has also forged new relations among faculty and uni- versity administrators around the topics of public scholarship and service learning, particularly with key officials from the Office of Undergraduate Education and the Office of Educational Equity.

Future Plans Based on requests made by some residents of West

Philadelphia we are proposing a new program called The Semester of Public Scholarship that is available to our stu- dents every semester. The idea is for our undergraduates to

stay in residence for a whole semester at a Penn State resi- dential facility in West Philadelphia to be engaged in public scholarship activities. The Semester of Public Scholarship is being steered by an interdisciplinary group of Penn State fac- ulty from several colleges including Earth and Mineral Sciences, Information Science, Architecture, and Education. The Semester of Public Scholarship is designed to generate a new knowledge to re-valorize the inner city, employ our stu- dents to disseminate such knowledge, and implement practi- cal solutions to improve the quality of life of inner city resi-

dents. !

REFERENCES i See the guest editorial by Yapa, “How Social Science Perpetuates Poverty and What the University Can Do About It,” Bulletin of Science, Technology, and Society. 19 (1999): 544-546.

Lakshman Yapa ([email protected]) is professor of geography.

James Birge

Beyond the Shadow of the Ivory Tower: Higher

Education and Democracy

the Land Grant Act in an effort to embed “the public work of community problem solving” i deeply and broadly into the land grant institutions’ mission.

By formalizing the role of higher education institutions as partners in community problem solving, the Land Grant Act also helped to formalize the tripartite purpose of higher edu- cation institutions—to teach, to conduct research, and to serve. This integrated approach to educating men and women serves as a foundation for integrating the different types of knowl- edge grounded in educational practice. This three-legged stool of higher education, however, has historically wobbled as institutions placed emphases on teaching and research activi- ties. At best, the third leg of the stool was articulated as a dis- tant, and frequently indirect, service to society. More often the service was to the institution or to the discipline—certainly important contributions, but unreflective of the spirit of the Land Grant Act.

Today, however, a renaissance of the historic public pur- pose of American higher education is underway. One is not hard pressed to find texts on the practices of public scholarship and community partnerships, the civic responsibility of higher education, and the emergence of public scholarship.

Moreover, higher education icons have called for institutions to re-examine their roles in society and recommit to the work of revitalizing a civil society. ii An increasing number of dis- ciplinary associations provide resources for integrating civic engagement activities into academic objectives. Even U.S. News and World Report magazine this year included the prac- tice of service learning as a new dimension for ranking col- leges and universities. In his book on service learning, Zlotkowski iii notes that some academicians believe this cur- rent practice of engaged learning may be as significant as the reforms of 141 years ago when the Land Grant Act was enact- ed.

The emergence of Campus Compact has compelled American higher education to revisit its historic public pur- pose. Campus Compact was founded in 1985 by the presidents of Brown, Georgetown, and Stanford universities, and the president of the Education Commission of the States. In the mid-’80’s, the media portrayed college students as materialis- tic and self-absorbed, more interested in making money than in helping their neighbors. The founding presidents believed this public image was false; they noted many students on their campuses who were involved in community service and

S ince the time of its founding in 1636, American higher education has concerned

itself with the advancement of society. Whether preparing men and women to

take leadership roles in a changing society or responding to the need for better artifi-

cial heart pumps, American colleges and universities have exercised a public purpose

distinct from other social institutions. Yet perhaps one of the most notable articulations

of the inextricable connection between education and society occurred in 1862 when

the United States Congress and President Abraham Lincoln embraced

believed many others would follow suit with the proper encouragement and supportive structures.

Eighteen years later, with a rapidly growing membership of 868 public and private two- and four-year colleges and uni- versities, network offices in 29 states, and developing com- pacts in three states, Campus Compact has built these “sup- portive structures” by providing training and technical assis- tance for integrating community service and academic study (service-learning), making grants for expanding campus and community partnerships, supporting the publication of research on best practices of civic engagement, and nationally recognizing students and faculty for their achievements.

That a revolution of the role for higher education in socie- ty is underway is unmistakable. Albeit a “quiet’ revolution, its power lies in the strength of reaffirming the role of the institu- tion as an inquisitor of society while honoring the role of insti- tution as partner with society. In his classic essay on higher education, The Uses of the University, Kerr iv notes that this plurality of purpose is what distinguishes American higher education from other education systems. Once again, the nature of revolution demands the action of higher education institutions to cross the boundaries of their campuses and engage with the lives of their host communities and greater society.

A Declining Sense of the Commons Higher education’s recommitment to its public purpose has

emerged as a result of what may be described as the unravel- ing of civil society’s fabric. Modern society may be in trouble if the headlines in the newspapers across the country are to be believed. Easily found are examples of the decline in our sense of community and increasingly uncivil behavior:

Signs that our civil society is in trouble can be seen in a demise of courtesy in commonplace transactions (angry gestures on the freeways); in a declining commitment to family (the weakening of marriages and too little time spent with children); in a lack of community spirit (neigh- borhoods where people keep to themselves); in the absence of honor and virtue among public figures (no examples needed here); and in political disengagement across the land (empty voting booths and public cynicism about current events). v

Central to the role of higher education responding to con- temporary social need is challenging students and faculty to think beyond historic approaches to resolving problems. The task at hand for colleges and universities is to accept students shaped by the influences of the uncivil society, infuse the les- sons for ameliorating incivility, and return to society a fully participating citizen. Institutions of higher education should be places where students can move from ways of understand- ing that rest upon conventional assumptions to more critical thought that can take many perspectives into account; make

discernments among them; and envision new possibilities.vi

To engage a civil society, educators and community members must come together to define how we interact with each other, how we promote a common good, and how we develop col- laborative approaches to address community issues. Faculty stand in the center of this movement to educate men and women to take civic leadership roles in our communities.

American higher education’s challenge is to continue to exercise its rich history of interacting with communities while compelling students to make the connections between the acquisition of knowledge and the broader public good. Without such explicit and implicit connections we fail to pro- mote democracy. If indeed a democracy is founded upon cit- izens deciding what is best for their communities, and if peo- ple are disconnecting from the idea of using their knowledge to improve their communities, we are facing an era of contin- ued democratic decline. Although signs of transformation are on the horizon, evidenced by an increase in students’ political awareness,vii achieving the outcomes of a civically engaged student population requires the participation of faculty.

Contemporary Faculty Practice Higher education’s historic public purpose, society’s need

for public intellectuals, and an increasingly politically aware student population—could the time be right for reforming pro- fessional practice? Clearly, the answer is yes . . . and no. For those faculty who were oriented to the efficiency model of teaching, to provide the most information to as many student as possible within a fixed amount of time, integrating a com- munity component challenges their familiar professional prac- tice. Inserting community based learning into the formula of traditional teaching practices is, at best, messy. Doing so requires flexibility in teaching practice and course content, creative thinking, and the ability to connect theory to applica- tion. Not all faculty are able or willing to adjust their teaching style to accommodate public scholarship practice and commu- nity based learning. And not all students are capable of under- standing the social applications of such a disciplined inquiry. As such, public scholarship, service learning, and civic engagement practitioners must recognize and acknowledge that teaching and learning for some of their colleagues and stu- dents can only exist within the traditional practice, and that they should always honor those colleagues and students who need or wish to teach and learn through traditional practice.

However, for those faculty who see themselves as con- tributing to leading edge practices in their profession, active pedagogical strategies such as public scholarship, service learning, and civic engagement provide a mechanism for inte- grating contemporary academic practice, traditional scholar- ship, and institutional public purpose. Penn State University, and Associate Vice Provost for Undergraduate Education Jeremy Cohen in particular is a notable leader in the move- ment to develop a cohort of faculty and students who focus upon integrating excellent teaching, research, and service

strategies while shaping the institution’s role in ameliorating community problems and providing a model for other institu- tions to replicate. These faculty possess a deep understanding of the social applications of their work and the implications they have for improving the lives of people in State College, Philadelphia, and the Commonwealth.

Whether it is Jeff Parker, associate professor of psycholo- gy, designing conflict resolution programs for elementary and middle school children, Lakshman Yapa, professor of geogra- phy, training students on the uses of Geographic Information Systems (GIS) data to improve life in West Philadelphia, or Sheila Sherrow, research associate at the Institute for the Study of Adult Literacy, applying her skills to improve literacy pro- grams across the state, these Public Scholarship Associates at Penn State are reinvigorating their profession and bringing their skills to bear on thorny public issues. Public scholarship repositions the faculty member as a direct contributor to resolving community issues by applying his or her profession- al skills outside of the academy, ultimately strengthening that which is valued within the academy—quality teaching, critical research, and meaningful service. Penn State is at a particular moment of opportunity in its history as it considers public scholarship practice. Will it embrace an explicit agenda of contributing its resources, namely its faculty and students, to the problems of communities and society? Or will it allow the Public Scholarship Associates to remain on the fringe of aca- demic culture?

Campus Compact is an important partner for Penn State faculty, students, and staff as the practices of public scholar- ship, service learning, and civic engagement deepen in higher education. Campus Compact’s state and national offices sup- port and disseminate research on effective practices of engaged scholarship, provide training and technical assistance on integrating service and academic study, offer input on insti- tutional strategies for deepening and broadening student learn- ing experiences, and make grants to member institutions when funds allow.

Bringing a scholar’s research skills to bear on community issues, while recognizing the needs and capacities of the com- munity to contribute to resolving its own issues, underpins the notion of the civic responsibility of American higher educa- tion. The well being of institutions hinges upon the well being of their host communities and the greater society. Just as “gar- dens are not made by sitting in the shade,” according to Rudyard Kipling, neither are engaged institutions made by faculty who practice their profession solely in the shadow of

the ivory tower. !

REFERENCES: i R.C. Snyder, “The public and its colleges: Reflections on the history of American higher education,” Higher Education Exchange (1988): 6-15. ii D. Bok, “Reclaiming the public trust,” Change, (July/August 1992): 14-19; E.L. Boyer, “Creating the new American college,” The Chronicle of Higher Education, 9 March 1994, A48; T.M. Hesburgh, “Where are college presi- dents’ voices on important public issues?” The Chronicle of Higher Education, 2 February 2001, B20; D. Kennedy, Academic duty. (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997). iii E. Zlotkowski, Successful Service-learning Programs: New models of excellence in higher education. (Bolton, MA: Anker Publishing Company, Inc., 1998). iv C. Kerr, The Uses of the University, 4th ed. (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1995). v W. Damon, “The path to a civil society goes through the uni- versity,” The Chronicle of Higher Education, 16 October 1998, B4. vi L.A. Park Daloz, C.H. Keen, J.P. Keen, & S. Daloz Parks, Common fire: Leading lives of commitment in a complex world. (Boston, MA: Beacon Press, 1996). vii M. Rooney, “Freshmen show rising political awareness and changing social views,” The Chronicle of Higher Education, 31 January 2003, A35-38.

James Birge ([email protected]) is executive director of Pennsylvania Campus Compact.

Arthur W. Carter

Communitarianism: Addressing College Student

Values

Possibly due to the media exposure, today’s college stu- dents socialize differently and reportedly have experienced more emotional trauma than their predecessors.i The precur- sor to this theme could be heard in the Isley Brothers music almost thirty years ago; “It’s Your Thing, Do What You Want To Do” boldly became the anthem for public and private thought. Simultaneously, formal education both public and private began to tout the importance of individual achieve- ment and competitiveness in order to succeed in college and gain access to highly sought-after jobs.

Thus today’s traditional-age college students value “tradi- tional models of leadership” that extol the virtues of being an achiever, leader of women and men, someone who sets the mark by being out in front of their peers. Signs of “No Limits” are found as graffiti, written by students proclaiming that no one has the right to establish social boundaries or behavioral limits. At Penn State, much of the student response to the outcry against binge drinking has been a stu- dent demand for freedom from social authority. Students have reached young adulthood hearing the treatise “Be All That You Can Be.” Should we be surprised that many of today’s students lack an appreciation of the call by university

administrators for building community and the formation of a civil society.

Etzioni ii fervently challenges this country to abandon its emphasis on individual achievement at all costs. As a com- munitarian, Etzioni calls for a balance in our dominant politi- cal and social value systems. The balance is one in which the concerns for community bridle rampant individualism. Communitarians regularly call for a new social conscious- ness that elevates community and the welfare of the whole above that of individual autonomy and personal success. Extreme individualism is a threat to the future of our demo- cratic way of life. The emphasis on individual rights and entitlements may also be a threat to the concepts of commu- nity advocated by our institutions of higher education and the larger communities in which we reside. To paraphrase a statement by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks about Britain, a universi- ty is more than an institution of individuals living discon- nected lives in pursuit of self-interest; we are a people united by a sense of purposefulness, intellectual curiosity and tradi- tion.iii Moreover, those of us in higher education are bound together by more than contract; we are inspired to serve our campus communities and reinvigorate founding principles.

The contemporary college campus is awash with student values that challenge acceptedconcepts of community. For the purposes of this paper student values are defined as those strongly held beliefs that influence their behavior and world perspective. These val-

ues have been formulated and shaped through incessant contact with the media — televi-

sion, video games, pulp publications and the cinema. If any of the billions of messages

conveyed by the media have a common theme, it is one of self-indulgence, physical adven-

ture and expressions of sexuality.

According to Sacks, it is this moral bond of community that sustains us, rather than contracts and laws alone.

College students need to understand that meaningful per- sonal choices i.e., personal advancement and success depends upon a healthy community where a significant majority pro- motes the flourishing of all its members.iv Surveys show that nearly half of all Americans believe responsibility to a com- munity is “very important.” What does “responsibility” mean in a climate that places so much emphasis on esteem- ing, actualizing, realizing, and affirming the self? What does it mean in a university environment?

Responsibility means encouraging student understanding and engagement in the “civil society” envisioned by the nation’s founders. It means changing the college culture from self-gratification to concern for others. The concept of a civil society is one of individual and group involvement in community services that undergird basic human needs — basic social services, spiritual needs, and concern for the wel- fare of our towns and cities. Most importantly, Communitarians would probably agree that community serv- ice intended to address the common good, is not “value free.” This writer contends that service should embrace aspects of the “beloved community” articulated by Martin Luther King Jr. v Dr. King identified values gained through unselfish service to others, respect for human dignity, concern for the common good, and a search for spiritual fulfillment. Student involvement, when value driven and reflective, i.e., individu- als digest the personal, social, political and economic impli- cations of their service, has the potential for deep personal growth and self-discovery. Moreover, the service experience may reaffirm family values and personal perspectives learned prior to college.

The associational and communal life of college students must be nurtured and encouraged, as a counter to our “indi- vidualistic” competitive ethos so common in public and pri- vate discourse. Campus environments must change from what communitarians believe is an exclusive focus on indi- vidual fulfillment to one that focuses on community well

being.vi The changing academic pedagogy that includes aca- demically-based community service and an emphasis on applications of classroom concepts in community settings can be powerful antidotes for the incivility seen on our nation’s campuses. Campuses that seek to address the conflict between individual autonomy and public virtue should exam- ine communitarian perspectives. New energies should be devoted to associational life found in school and community organizations, team work required in corporate internships, and social lives enriched by identification with religious and spiritual institutions, all of which reward civic responsibility.vii

The Centers for Community Education at Penn State seek to promote student awareness and engagement in an “associa- tional life” that challenges the disengagement, lethargy and isolation that have a significant role in the lives of today’s

students. viii The Center for Ethics and Religious Affairs, the Robeson Cultural Center, and the Center for Women Students function as a cohesive unit to nurture civic responsibility, spiritual awareness and an appreciation of diversity experi- ences. Initiatives by these Student Affairs units are even more appropriate when joined with faculty conceived efforts to form a campus environment that is caring, purposeful and disciplined, values that counter the egocentric culture com- mon to many contemporary students. ix

The potential for value-driven community service to explore, define and address a new sense of community is very promising and worthy of significant investment by high- er education. Faculty members within all disciplines are challenged to initiate value driven community involvement that reflects the foundations of their academic roots and insti- tutional mission. Our nation’s higher education institutions will gain new public respect and relevance as millions of stu- dents experience faculty-led, value driven service for the

common good. !

REFERENCES i A. Levine and J.S. Curton, “What we know about today’s college students,” About Campus, March/April (1988): 4-9 ii A. Etzioni, The spirit of community: The reinvention of American society. (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993). iii J. Sacks, “Rebuilding civil society: A biblical perspec- tive,” The Responsive Community 7, (1996/97): 11-20. iv J. Lind, “Liberty, community and framers’ intent,” The Responsive Community 8, (fall 1998): 13-23. v J.J. Ansbro, Martin Luther King Jr.: Nonviolent strategies and tactics for social change. (Lanham: Madison Books, 2000). vi D. Eberly, “Civil Society: Attacked from All Corners,” The Responsive Community 8, (fall 1998): 66-71. vii A. Wolf, “Is civil society obsolete?” The Brookings Review (fall 1997): 9-12. viii R. Flacks and S. L. Thomas, The Chronicle of Higher Education, 27 November 1998. ix E. L. Boyer, Campus Life: In search of community. (Princeton, New Jersey: The Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, 1990).

Arthur Carter ([email protected]) is assistant vice president, Office of Student Affairs.

Michael Rios

A Community-University Partnership: The Belmont

Project

These changing relationships and conditions signal a need to re-examine the role of institutions of higher education vis- à-vis civil society. This essay presents a case of the Belmont Community University Partnership (BCUP), a multi-year ini- tiative that centers on the mutual engagement between an institution of higher education, local non-profit organizations, public agencies, and elected officials. The purpose of BCUP is to build capacity of local institutions through focused efforts of multiple academic departments at Penn State University. As such, it presents a place-based approach to university engagement that aims to integrate teaching, research, and serv- ice in a community setting.

Context The 1990s represented the decade of greatest economic

expansion in the history of the United States. Regions pros- pered, signaling a comeback for many older cities. However, the Belmont neighborhood in West Philadelphia— like many low-income urban neighborhoods across the country — never benefited from the boom and continues to struggle both social- ly and economically.

Belmont represents one of the poorest neighborhoods in

Philadelphia. The Belmont community in West Philadelphia has a total population of 5,236, is predominately African American (96.5%), and more than 40 percent of the residents live at or below Philadelphia’s poverty level, based on the 2000 U.S. Census. Where the city of Philadelphia lost 25% of its population over the last 50 years, the total population of West Philadelphia has decreased 50 percent during that same time period.i Significant neighborhood deterioration has accompanied the loss in population. Belmont has a vacancy rate of 22.1% as compared to 13% for West Philadelphia, and 10.9% for Philadelphia overall.

Partnership Background While these statistics are shocking, Belmont organizations

and residents are beginning to work together to bring about positive change within the neighborhood. Invited by commu- nity members to address these issues, a small group of faculty at Penn State has embarked on a multi-year neighborhood ini- tiative in the Belmont neighborhood. The Belmont Community University Partnership (BCUP) has emerged from the year-round outreach and research activities of different faculty and academic units. In particular, the Philadelphia

In communities throughout America, the proliferation of civil society groups signalsa shift away from government as the source of public goods toward the idea of local governance comprised of different organizations and agencies from the public, non-

profit, and private sectors. Cooperative alliances are increasingly popular and are char-

acterized by the interpenetration of organizational actors from public agencies, non-

governmental organizations, and institutions of higher education.

Field Project, the Hamer Center for Community Design Assistance, and the Committee for Community Directed Research and Education, support BCUP.

Since 1998 Dr. Lakshman Yapa, a geography professor, has coordinated the Philadelphia Field Project through the Schreyer Honors College at Penn State. Every summer, a select group of undergraduates from a variety of disciplines undertake research-based thesis projects designed to advance understanding of specific aspects of urban poverty.

In December 1999, Dr. Yapa brought a group of faculty from the Hamer Center to listen to community residents and leaders and identify potential areas for future collaboration in Belmont. During the visit, faculty members were invited to a dialogue with key leaders and residents. At this meeting, res- idents and community leaders challenged Penn State to make a more permanent commitment to the neighborhood and move from providing student service projects lasting only one month in duration to a multi-year partnership that would address pressing neighborhood needs and build community capacity over time through a deeper and stronger relationship.

This expanded assistance has been facilitated through the Hamer Center, a research and outreach unit of the School of Architecture and Landscape Architecture. Since commencing operations in 1999, the Hamer Center has provided a range of services to different communities and municipalities around Pennsylvania and participates in ongoing research initiatives with government agencies and statewide non-profit organiza- tions. The Hamer Center focuses on a variety of collaborative and interdisciplinary activities for faculty and students ranging from urban design and planning to neighborhood revitalization and affordable housing. In the past three years, 20 service learning projects involving over one hundred students have participated in Hamer Center sponsored projects.ii

The Hamer Center’s involvement in the Belmont neigh- borhood has helped to recruit the efforts of the Committee for Community Directed Research and Education, or CCDRE. As a faculty and student initiative of the Adult Education program at Penn State, CCDRE’s mission is “to promote research as service that enables members of communities to define and address their own concerns.” This is carried out through par- ticipatory research projects. CCDRE serves as a clearinghouse to assist in community-directed projects, and facilitates oppor- tunities for student service learning and internships. The edu- cational emphasis of CCDRE has brought an evaluative com- ponent to the research, outreach, and teaching activities in the Belmont neighborhood.

Approaches to Pedagogy With the large number of faculty and students involved in

the partnership, there are multiple disciplines represented, including adult education, architecture, geography, landscape architecture and information sciences technology. Given this diversity, pedagogical approaches vary widely. Students can participate in seminars, design studios, computer labs or inde- pendent studies if they want to work with community mem-

bers; they also have the option to immerse themselves in dis- cipline-based study related to a thesis or final project.

Although the teaching approach of individual faculty mem- bers varies, there is a commitment to community participation and the idea of scholarship as service. In general, curricular activities fall within one of four primary areas led by individ- ual faculty members. These areas include economic develop- ment, neighborhood ecology and health, design/build, and information technology literacy. A fifth, community organiz- ing, cuts across these areas to ensure participation by local res- idents and to evaluate capacity building benchmarks articulat- ed for each of the four focus areas. In addition, a team of Americorps VISTA members provides support and coordi- nates on-site service learning activities through a recently established partnership office in West Philadelphia.iii This is significant, given the geographic distance between Penn State’s University Park campus and Philadelphia.

To facilitate learning, exchange, and coordination between faculty members, a monthly meeting provides a forum for the presentation of ongoing scholarly work related to the initia- tive, discussion and coordination of curricular activities, and the scheduling of activities in the Belmont neighborhood. Several of the faculty members also participate in The Public Scholarship Associates, a campus-wide program of faculty and administrators whose purpose is to develop a University- wide minor in which students would learn the theories of pub- lic scholarship and participate in civic issues by applying their disciplinary knowledge to community problem solving.iv

Examples of Student Involvement In January of 2002, the Hamer Center partnered with the

Friends Rehabilitation Program (FRP), a Quaker-based organ- ization, to host a workshop, or “charrette,” in Belmont. The charrette was an outgrowth of early discussions with commu- nity members concerned about youth and the environment. The purpose of the charrette was to create a vision for a neigh- borhood park and facilities to support youth, women and sen- ior citizens living around a community housing facility. FRP made provisions for lodging and a daily base of operations in the heart of the Belmont neighborhood, and also arranged roundtable discussions and a final workshop with residents. Students from architecture and landscape architecture partici- pated in a variety of activities including charrette planning and logistics, GIS mapping and neighborhood analysis, facilitating roundtable discussions, developing design plans and illustra- tions and creating a documentary film of the charrette process. Since the initial charrette, land has been acquired for a new park and a stewardship group has formed to implement park improvement ideas. Plans for a second charrette include brainstorming ideas for several pilot design/build construction projects to be installed in April 2003.

Increasing interest in the Belmont Partnership and the Philadelphia Field Project has led to initial planning for a res- idential facility as part of a Semester for Public Scholarship.

University administration has agreed to raise $100,000 in sup- port of a permanent residential facility for students and facul- ty, and efforts are underway to develop a 12-credit curriculum for semester study that would also include the creation of classroom space and a computer lab in West Philadelphia.

Conclusion Through BCUP, the collective activity of faculty and stu-

dents has begun to articulate a distinct urban agenda for Penn State University. This is significant for the University, which has historically focused on small town and rural community development. University resources have been mobilized including the creation of project office space in West Philadelphia, a commitment from the University to raise funds for a residential facility, and contributions from different aca- demic units in the form of research and teaching assistantships, and faculty time.

The ongoing presence and commitment by faculty and stu- dents has also helped to build trust with Belmont residents. Increasingly, community members view Penn State as a facil- itator in discussions between community organizations that have not worked together in the past. The purposeful strategy of setting up a partnership office, securing university resources, and beginning to raise funds for a residential facili- ty — all reinforce Penn State’s commitment to the Belmont community and helps to overcome the stereotype that univer- sities take from communities (in terms of research and teach- ing), but do not give back anything meaningful in return.

The case of BCUP also raises several issues regarding the nature of community university partnerships. Conflicting goals between faculty and community members, time and dis- tance constraints of service learning projects, and the uncer- tainty of institutional commitments are some of the constant challenges faced by those engaging in collaborative efforts with local communities. However, the social and economic challenges faced by these same communities far outweigh the concerns of higher education involved in community partner- ships. Making a serious commitment to community partner- ships will require faculty and students to challenge traditional approaches to teaching, research, and outreach. Working in local communities will also require approaches that are trans- disciplinary in nature—the ability to cross epistemological boundaries—and integration of the best of theory with practice to solve complex, community problems. In an age of dimin- ishing resources and rising civic concerns, universities and col- leges must not only educate students, but also engage commu-

nities in places where people live, work, and play. !

REFERENCES

i Lancaster Avenue Corridor Comprehensive Plan 2002, and United States Census 2000.

ii Information about other Hamer Center activities can be found at: www.hamercenter.psu.edu.

iii Office space and set up have been provided through a con- tribution from the Office of the Vice President for Student Affairs. iv Grants from The Public Scholarship Associates help sup- port service learning activities throughout the year.

Michael Rios ([email protected]) is associate professor of architecture and landscape architecture and director of the Hamer Center for Community Design Assistance.

Christopher Uhl

Creating the Sustainable University: Ecology, Process

and Practice

At that time (1980s through mid-1990s) my research cen- tered on the human activities leading to the biotic impover- ishment of Amazonian ecosystems. Eventually, I decided to shift my attention from distant and exotic Amazon ecosys- tems to the seemingly ordinary one right in front of my nose: namely, Penn State University. In this paper, I will use our experience at Penn State to illustrate this three-step process of developing sustainability indicators, then a mission, and finally sustainable practices.

Measuring sustainability: Developing Indicators I inaugurated the new initiative by posting an announce-

ment on a bulletin board in the Penn State Student Union, inviting students to participate in a study of the “ecological sustainability of Penn State.” Nine students expressed an interest in the project and we met to hatch a plan for measur- ing sustainability. I was candid with the students telling them that although I knew how to measure the dissolved oxygen concentration of a lake and the acidity of soil, I did- n’t know how to measure sustainability. Indeed, there is no equipment manufacturer that sells a “sustainability meter”.

In an effort to invite the students into the problem, I

asked them to think about Penn State as an ecosystem. In what ways was the university similar to — in what ways dif- ferent from—a natural ecosystem? The students observed that in nature, everything cycles. In contrast to natural ecosystems, the flow of materials in human-engineered ecosystems, like Penn State, is mostly linear—one way. Indeed, our universities are constantly receiving materials from distant “sources,” consuming these materials, and then shunting the wastes to distant “sinks.”

The students believed that these linear pathways of mate- rial flow were extremely wasteful and this bothered them. They complained about the way that people at Penn State wasted water, electricity, paper and food. I invited the group to spend time thinking about how we might measure con- sumption and waste at Penn State. We continued to meet over the next two months but then interest began to wane. When I asked why we were losing our momentum, the stu- dents made it clear that they were tired of hashing things out; they wanted to take action.

Making the Invisible Visible We began by looking at the university’s underbelly or

When I first began teaching Environmental Science at Penn State, I imaginedthat the environmental problems I taught about were out there in the “real” world and had little to do with the day-to-day operations of my university. Indeed,

because a university is a powerhouse of knowledge and expertise, I assumed that it

was solving our environmental problems and modeling sustainable practices. Even

if it wasn’t, I was too busy with “important” research to pay attention to something

as mundane as the day-to-day physical operations of my university.

backside. Both individually and in small groups students visited the landfill that receives Penn State’s trash, journeyed to the open pit mines that provide Penn State’s coal, and walked through the well fields supplying the campus with water. They looked into dumpsters to see what Penn State people were throwing away, traced the sources of the food served in University dining halls, studied land transactions at the county deeds office, conducted botanical surveys of the campus grounds, and much more.

Rather than sitting in classrooms talking about the state of the environment, these students were able to engage in face- to-face interactions with Penn State’s complex and often invisible support systems and the people respon- sible for running them. As they conducted their investigations, they realized that many of the ways in which the University relies on the envi- ronment are hidden from view. Hence, as a team, we decided to center the first phase of our work around the theme of “making the University’s invisible ecological dependencies visible.” We thought that a good way to do this would be through personal stories (See Box).

Our team soon discovered that we were not alone in our quest for sustainability indicators. Governments, organizations, and cities around the world are beginning to develop ways of tracking their progress toward sustainability. We were particularly inspired by a report that described how citizens in the city of Seattle had agreed on 40 indicators of sustainability (www.sustainableseattle.org).

As our work became more focused, more people began coming to our meetings and plan- ning sessions. Several dozen Penn Staters par- ticipated in defining the sustainability indica- tors. We began this process by defining best or sustainable practices for each university “sub- system”. For example, we concluded that a sus- tainable energy system should be based on renewable energy and be highly efficient and non-polluting. Hence, our energy indicators measured if Penn State’s energy system was becoming less dependent on fossil fuels, less wasteful, and less polluting over time.

In all, we developed 33 indicators for gauging sustainabil- ity (www.bio.psu.edu/greendestiny). Guided by these indica- tors, we scrutinized Penn State’s policies and performance in water conservation, recycling, purchasing landscaping, ener- gy use, building design, and research ethics. We critically evaluated Penn State’s food and transportation systems and asked if the University was moving in a sustainable direction. We checked to see if Penn State’s institutional power was being used to strengthen regional economies and promote corporate responsibility, and much more.

Students did most of the initial work. They picked an

indicator that they were interested in and developed a plan of study. Sometimes these were independent study projects undertaken for credit with faculty guidance; sometimes they were part of the content of an environmentally oriented course.

In most cases the data for the indicators already existed but had never been used to assess sustainability. For exam- ple, by studying a sequence of pre-existing University maps, Nate determined that the proportion of green space covered by impervious surfaces on campus had increased by 50 per- cent between 1970 to 2000.

Often the data for the various indicators could be plotted,

and, depending on the trends over time, “indicated” a move- ment toward or away from sustainability. For example, total waste production increased by over 20% at Penn State between 1989 and 1999 (more than two times the increase in the Penn State population for the same period).

The first Penn State Indicators Report, released in 1998, depicted an institution whose performance, measured by sus- tainability indicators, was not exemplary. For category after category (energy, food, materials, transportation, building, decision making) Penn State practices departed little from the national status quo. The University’s official posture appeared to be in accord with the national view that we can

When Amy was a Penn State junior, she wanted to know how much coal she and the other students in Beaver Hall were consuming each day as they flicked their lights and computers and stereos on. So she began knocking on doors and asking fellow students if she could count the number of plug-in devices in their rooms. She found that a typical dorm room had 12 plug-in devices—micro-fridge, television, VCR, comput- er, printer, alarm clock, CD player/radio, answering machine, video game unit and several lamps. Some rooms had as many as 19 plug-ins.

Amy then administered a questionnaire to gauge the num- ber of hours that the various “plug-ins” where in use each day. Next, she used a watt meter to measure the energy consump- tion for each category of plug-in. Crunching the numbers, she determined that, on average, 10 kilowatts of electricity—or eight pounds of coal—were used to supply the daily electricity needs of each dorm room. Scaling up to the entire dorm, Amy estimated that a little more than a ton of coal is required to supply Beaver Hall’s total electricity needs each day. The burning of this coal releases about three tons of the green- house gas, carbon dioxide, to the atmosphere.

As students considered the implications of Amy’s findings, they discussed ways of making this invisible connection— between electricity use and fossil fuel consumption—visible. One student suggested that an eight-pound chunk of coal be placed on all dorm room desks and a ton of coal set by the entrance to all dorms.

Amy’s Dorm Room

continue with business as usual—growing and consuming— without worry. And, yet, in private conversation people in all sectors of the University were concerned about the deteriora- tion of the environment worldwide and over consumption in the United State, in particular.

Using ecological indicators to give the University a “report card” was unsettling to some Penn State administra- tors. After all, they didn’t commission this study and there was legitimate concern that our findings might tarnish the image of the University. Indeed, we were tempted to assume a highly critical posture because the University’s environ- mental performance was lackluster in many areas. In the end, though, we decided against a highly confrontational pos- ture because we came to see that our goal wasn’t to win argu- ments but to effect long-term change.

As we prepared to release the first Indicators Report we invited university leaders (e.g., deans, department heads, unit heads) to supply written endorsements in an effort to create a positive “buzz’ around the Report. The Associate Dean of Liberal Arts had this to say:

This report is a demonstration of the kind of exciting and relevant learning that can take place when students and faculty work collaboratively. The sustainability project demanded methodological rigor and an interdisciplinary, integrated systems approach to the problem. But it also required the participants to grapple with ethical and moral questions involving distributional justice and the responsibility of the University to society. Penn State should be proud of the result.

These endorsements were included on the front and back covers of the report and in the announcements heralding the Report’s release.

The first Indicators Report was formally released to the University in a large open-air public ceremony on the steps of Old Main in September, 1998. Copies were sent to all department and unit heads. Leaders from various sectors of the University’s Office of Physical Plant (e.g., the energy czar, the head of landscaping, the chief of waste manage- ment, the transportation coordinator, etc.) were on hand to receive copies of the Report. They were the unsung heroes of this effort because they and their staff had spent immense amounts of time tracking down data, talking with students, and checking over early drafts of the Report for accuracy.

After the Report’s release, some faculty members from across the university—in agriculture, engineering, landscape architecture, ecology, political science and communications— voluntarily began to use the entire Report or parts thereof to teach about sustainable practices, environmental ethics, place-based research, rhetoric, citizenship, and so forth.

Institutionalizing Sustainability I remember the sense of satisfaction our sustainability

group experienced in the Fall of 1998 after releasing the

Indicators Report. We were in the news. Reporters were calling us from all over the East. Pennsylvania’s Department of Environmental Protection was requesting a box full of the Reports to distribute to their personnel, and students and fac- ulty from dozens of universities were contacting us request- ing copies of the Report. Meanwhile, Penn State’s President requested that a copy of the Report be sent to all the mem- bers of the Board of Trustees, and he was passing the Report on to his vice presidents, instructing them to study its recom- mendations. With all this activity, it was tempting to imagine that our work was finished. After all, the Report clearly doc- umented the gaping sustainability deficit at Penn State and prescribed thirty concrete steps that Penn State needed to take to erase this deficit.

But six months after the Report’s release very little had ostensibly changed. Reluctantly, we acknowledged that the Indicators Report, by itself, didn’t have the power to trans- form Penn State into a sustainable university, but it did, at least, provide the language to begin to talk about sustainable practices at Penn State. As with any attempt to change the status quo, persistence would be essential.

Up to this point we were just a couple dozen University folks (mostly students) who had come together around a common concern. We eschewed formal membership, a con- stitution, rules or official university standing and in this way avoided many of the problems that institutionalization and bureaucratization might have created. It was our allegiance to sustainability and our desire to transform PSU to “Pennsylvania’s Sustainable University” that united us. Although our internal structure was very open and informal, we did establish a website, and when the occasion demanded, we were ready to portray ourselves with formality.

After trying out lots of possibilities for our group, we finally hit on “The Green Destiny Council”. This name was inspired by Penn State’s multi-year one-billion dollar fund- raising effort dubbed “Grand Destiny.” By substituting the word “green” for “grand” we signaled that ours was a group concerned with ecology and the environment; by playing off “Grand Destiny” we had a name that people would remember (especially decision makers); and by using the word “coun- cil” we conveyed the egalitarian character of our “organiza- tion”.

One year after the release of the first Indicators Report we made a commitment to release an updated and expanded ver- sion of the Report in the year 2000. This allowed us to keep the University’s environmental performance in the spotlight.

Developing an Ecological Mission for the University A small group (myself and two students) went into hiber-

nation for three months to draft Penn State’s ecological mis- sion. On the one hand, this seemed ludicrous—two students and a professor drafting the University’s ecological mission. We had no vested authority to do this. But we had learned that we didn’t need to wait for permission. We could just begin the process.

We called the mission document, “Green Destiny: Penn State’s Emerging Ecological Mission” (www.bio.psu.edu/greendestiny) to signal that we were work- ing as “midwives” to birth a mission for the University. Each of the document’s eight core pages proposed a facet of the new ecological mission (See Box).

We knew, of course, that it wouldn’t work for us to simply declare what we thought the University’s ecological mission ought to be. We would have to open up the process and culti- vate support, especially among faculty and staff in positions of leadership. In other words, we would have to schmooze.

The mission document that 150 leaders (including all top administrators) received was eye-catching. There was a cover letter with a formal Green Destiny letterhead; and the cover of the document had a color photograph of the Earth along with the Penn State official logo, and a red silk ribbon. On the last page we asked reviewers to place a check next to each mission element indicating their stance — e.g., “sup- port”, “don’t support” or “undecided”. We also encouraged reviewers to include specific reactions to any/all of the mis- sion components.

Support ran high (greater than 70 percent) for all eight of the mission elements. The second most frequent response was “undecided.” The “don’t support” response was less than 10 percent in all cases. We modified the language to address what we judged to be legitimate concerns and then summarized the results and sent a short report back to all the leaders. Then, we called a meeting with the Provost. He expressed genuine support for Green Destiny’s mission docu- ment and encouraged us to take it to the Faculty Senate for endorsement. After spending six months in committee and undergoing minor language modifications, Green Destiny’s Ecological Mission statement was put to a vote before Penn State’s Faculty Senate and approved unanimously. Next it went to the President’s desk. He quickly added his approval.

At last, after four years of persistence, Penn State now had a comprehensive set of sustainability indicators telling it where it stood and an ecological mission telling it where it needed to go.

Making Sustainability Reality: Offering a Blueprint After the Faculty Senate and Penn State President

endorsed Green Destiny’s Ecological Mission proposal, we again asked ourselves, “What’s next?” It seemed like the time had come to figure out a way to put the lofty ideals and good intentions embodied in Penn State’s ecological mission into concrete actions. Specifically, we asked ourselves, “How could we create a detailed blueprint for sustainable practices at Penn State?”

The Mueller Report “Blueprint” work is “nuts and bolts” technical stuff—e.g.,

it’s about heating and cooling systems, the design of urinals, the margin settings on printers, the volatile organic com- pounds in paints, and so forth. One afternoon when we were discussing this, a faculty member said, “These details are pretty boring but if it was my own house I’d be interested.” We were sitting in the Penn State Biology building (Mueller Lab) at the time. Suddenly I realized that we could create a sustainability blueprint for the very building that we were in.

At the time of these discussions (September, 2000), I was in the midst of teaching a five-credit ecology course in the biology building. It had been my custom to devote the last six weeks of this course to what I called “the ecology in action” project. Instantly I knew I had my “action” project for the semester. I would give these biology students— with their concern for the complexity and intricacy of life systems—the opportunity to join their knowledge of life with actions in their “home” building which respect and nurture life.

When it came time to initiate this project in early November, I told the twenty students in the class that their assignment was to “cut the ecological impact (i.e., “foot- print”) of the Mueller building in half while creating healthier working conditions for all Mueller occupants.”

Students began by considering all the inputs to the build- ing (e.g., electricity, steam, paper, computers, printers, toners, furniture, carpeting, paints, cleaners, pesticides, coffee, etc.). Each student took one “input” and determined: 1) Mueller’s annual consumption for that item; 2) the environmental impacts of this consumption; and 3) alternatives that would significantly reduce ecological impacts.

Next, a new team composed of four recent Penn State graduates, a Ph.D. graduate student in engineering, and myself went to work fleshing out the analysis. Five months later we had a solid document which we entitled, “The Mueller Report: Going beyond Sustainability Indicators to Sustainability Action”. This Mueller Report (www.bio.psu.edu/greendestiny) offered the University a blueprint for halving the ecological impacts of its current building stock. In the box below we offer an abbreviated excerpt.

Energy: Move toward fossil fuel independence Water: End water waste Materials: Become a zero-waste university Food: Eat foods produced sustainably Land: Create and abide by a land ethic Transit: Promote alternatives to car transit Built environment: Create “green” buildings Community: Guarantee ecological literacy

Green Destiny’s “Emerging Ecological Mission” for Penn State

Although the Mueller Report was ostensibly about how to reduce the ecological impacts of the University’s current building stock, the broader message was that current build- ings on the Penn State campus squander massive amounts of energy and money. These buildings were constructed at a time when most people imagined that U.S. supplies of energy were nearly inexhaustible and when almost no one had made the connection between fossil fuel use and climate disruption. Now we live in a different time. We know much more which means that we need to do much more. Now, by employing green design technologies, it is possible to achieve eight to ten-fold reductions in energy use.

In October, 2001, Green Destiny Council released the Mueller Report to the University in a public ceremony. University officials from the Office of the Physical Plant, who had played a key role in providing and interpreting data, were on hand to formally receive the Report.

After the Report’s release, we moved quickly to set up meetings with key decision makers (e.g., Chair of Biology, Vice President for Business and Finance, Head of University Operations). Receptivity was high. Everyone likes “win- win” situations and the Report was being seen in this light. The Office of the Physical Plant announced its readiness to institute the suite of energy recommendations necessary to dramatically reduce Mueller’s energy consumption.

At long last, Penn State is beginning to operationalize sustainable practices. It is a small but important beginning. The Green Destiny Council will continue to raise the bar. . . with persistence, not insistence.

Conclusion Over the years that I have been working on sustainability

issues I have come to understand that sustainability is a social change movement. In this context, Green Destiny’s work has really been about alerting Penn State to a problem, as well as an opportunity, and encouraging the University on to a new path. Our success, to the extent that we have had any, has been hinged to our understanding of power and the process of social change and our use of an array of tools and strategies.

Given the culture of our institution, we needed numbers, indicators, and benchmarks to begin the awakening process. As is true of all social change movements, we also needed trigger events to heighten awareness about the problem and the opportunities. The fanfare we were able to create around the public release of our various reports has served this “trig- ger” function.

Now, after five years of persistent effort, it appears that the Penn State population and administration recognize the importance of instituting sustainable practices. Indeed, I had to smile when I received a recent note from our President in which he wrote: “I appreciate your efforts to enhance Penn State’s sustainability efforts.” What I especially liked about this sentence was not the President’s sentiment of gratitude but his phrasing “Penn State’s sustainability efforts.” You know you are making progress in a social change movement

The 123 faculty and staff occupying the Mueller Building consume, collectively, 5.3 tons of chlorine-bleached, 0% post-consumer-con- tent paper each year. Mueller’s paper comes from Willamette Industry’s paper plant in Johnsonburg, PA. In 1998 that plant released 338 tons of pollutants, including 61 tons of sul- furic acid and 148 tons of hydrochloric acid.

Mueller could significantly reduce its paper “footprint”, first, by purchasing 100% post-con- sumer-content paper that is chlorine free; and, second, by more fully utilizing the paper that it purchases. At present, Mueller documents are often printed without considering how font size, margin width, and line-spacing decisions affect paper needs. Paying attention to these “details” can dramatically reduce paper consumption. For example, a hundred-page “standard” print job (i.e., 12-point font, standard margins, double spaced, one-sided) can easily be reduced to less than 20 pages by reducing font size to 10- point, extending top, bottom, and side margins to 0.75”, and using single spacing and 2-sided printing.

By buying 100% post-consumer recycled paper and fully using that paper, Mueller could reduce its annual paper use by two-thirds, from just over 1 million sheets to approximately 300,000 sheets. Expressed on a per capita basis, a Mueller occupant adopting “best” paper practices would decrease his/her paper con- sumption from over 8,000 to approximately 2,700 sheets, and, in so doing, save over 555 gallons of water, about 360 kWh of electricity, approximately 2,650 square feet of forest land, and almost 800 pounds of CO2 emissions. Moreover, although recycled paper costs more per sheet, the potential reduction in paper use could reduce per capita paper expenditures by $25/year.

Adopting even the most simple paper con- serving strategies at the scale of the entire University could result in significant monetary savings. For example, if Penn State was to change standard computer/printer margin set- tings to 0.75” on all sides (making 19% more area available on each text page), the University would reduce annual paper con- sumption by 45,000 reams and save $123,000 each year (www.bio.psu.edu/greendestiny).

Mueller Paper

when the target of your efforts begins to assume ownership of the very goals and ideals you have been endeavoring to

promote. !

Christopher Uhl ([email protected]) is a professor of biology. He is a human ecologist whose research and writing focuses on ecological sustainability.

Nicole Webster Connie Flanagan

Public Scholarship: Expanding Higher

Education’s Mission

All of these methods of employing service learning may be viable, but the one commonality they are missing is the core value of service learning embedded in the history of the department. This is an important factor of the programs and courses which fall under Agricultural & Extension Education within the College of Agricultural Sciences.

The department has a unique composition in that it fol- lows the mission set forth by the Smith Lever Act of 1914, which provides a non-formal educational component to all land-grant universities through the Cooperative Extension System.i This act calls for research and information to be delivered to all citizens of a state in a practical and meaning- ful manner. In many cases, this is done in collaboration with community organizations, public institutions, faith groups, and schools. The goal in delivering extension programs is to provide the richest and most informative experience for the individual. This concept is seen within various extension pro- grams as well as in the Agricultural and Extension Education (AEE) classrooms, where faculty are preparing individuals to work with communities and the world.

As was expressed by Boyer, ii scholarship of learning should not be confined to the classroom, but rather become a

part of the environment. His belief in experiential learning as one of the main tenets of the land-grant model that is used in many agricultural extension programs and classes. The motto of service and learning is woven throughout creeds and mission and vision statements of many youth organiza- tions within Cooperative Extension. For example, the motto for the National Future Farmers of America,iii an organiza- tion that helps to develop young people’s leadership skills, stresses learning by doing in their activities. Other youth organizations, such as 4-H, also realize the importance of service and learning. They have incorporated this belief into the group’s pledge to remind participants of the importance of service and to remember that service incorporates head, heart, health, and hands.

Within the classroom, faculty members have embraced the approach that service learning, civic engagement, and leadership will provide a well-rounded experience for the student. As many students enter our classes, they are intro- duced to a philosophy of teaching and learning that happens simultaneously. For example, Connie teaches a graduate course called Youth Civic Development. Graduate students from a wide range of disciplinary backgrounds enroll each

Many people are asking themselves where service learning fits within ourhigher educational curricula. The approach many times depends upon the culture and attitude of the department or college toward service learning. Some

individuals may view service learning as a forced component of a course or an

extracurricular activity, made to enhance course content. Others may place it within

the community service category and give students extra credit for completion of a

“service” project.

year, and the students share a commitment to engaged schol- arship. As mature students, they come to the class with a wealth of experience in community settings within the United States as well as in different nations. The goal of the course is to develop theory in the fledgling field of youth civic development by drawing from applied and basic research and the collective wisdom of students who have tested ideas in practice. As a group, we are building a field with a foundation in the community contexts where young people live, and where their everyday experiences and choic- es give meaning to the term “youth civic engagement.”

The commitment the AEE Department has toward service learning is quite evident in the creation of the tenured faculty position on service learning and outreach. This position has the incredible role of researching service learning not only within the AEE Department, but across various disciplines throughout the university. It is co-funded through the Children, Youth and Families Consortium (CYFC), which promotes research, outreach, and teaching to address critical social issues for children, youth, and families.

Nicole’s research agenda will strive to give voice to underrepresented students within the service learning field and to understand how self-identity and representation are critical outcomes within mainstream service learning research.

She plans to create public scholarship opportunities for students within an urban and suburban context to begin to dispel the myths about urban youth and communities. These projects will move students to think beyond providing a serv- ice to a community, but rather viewing the process as an engaged partner for community development. This will come from paired group assignments and engaged dialogue before the actual public scholarship project. During the proj- ect, students will have the opportunity to create their voices through a variety of methods as individuals and community members. Since many of these students are coming from diverse cultures and backgrounds, they will have the chance to express their voice in a culturally relative method. This ranges from song to poetry to written word. In addition, they will continue to work with the community to create a com- munity voice that is not often seen in academic projects.

The AEE Department and College of Agricultural Sciences have shown their belief in service learning not only by creating this position, but by supporting faculty and others who wish to incorporate this methodology within their class- es. This new focus on an interdisciplinary culture falls with- in two streams for both undergraduates and graduate stu- dents. Leadership Development and Youth & Family Education are each offered as either a major disciplinary focus or as a minor. Both streams are built into the core areas of the department allowing for all students to develop a rich academic program. Faculty involved in these two areas work across disciplines and subject matter, lending their expertise and support to shape significant experiences for their students. Overall, the AEE Department strives to pro-

vide students the opportunity to enhance their learning expe- rience through course offerings, faculty, and expertise within the department. Although the primary focus is not on service learning, the curricula and mission of the AEE Department combine the principles and pedagogy of this method of learn- ing and teaching. In the call for a more engaged university, the AEE Department has taken a proactive step in providing today’s student with a program that reinforces “real world” applications and issues related to youth development, leader-

ship and civic engagement. !

REFERENCES: i W.D. Rasmussen, Taking the University to the People: Seventy-Five Years of Cooperative Extension. (Iowa: Iowa State University Press, 1989). ii Boyer, Ernest, Scholarship Reconsidered: Priorities of the Professoriate. (Princeton, NJ: The Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, 1990). iii The National Future Farmers of America, “The FFA Mission & Strategies,” <http://www.ffa.org/default.html> (February 3, 2003)

Nicole Webster ([email protected]) is assistant professor for agriculture and extension education. Connie Flanagan ([email protected]) is associate profes- sor for agriculture and extension education.