Ever since inauguration day, I’ve woken up with a pit in my stomach. I consider myself an environmentalist—I believe clean water, clean air, a healthy environment should be afforded to all. With the swipe of a pen and a majority of short-sighted votes from our elected officials, many of the rules and regulations put into place to ensure that we have those aforementioned things can be swept away in the next four years. So, what do you do when you feel like your country is falling apart and you worry that the little girl growing inside of you will not enjoy life on a healthy, sustainable planet?
And you think about all of these things as you stand in front of your environmental and ecological engineering urban water projects service-learning course.
“We feel depressed, Dr. Payne. We have been left with a mess.” said one concerned student.
“Yes, you have, but you may be the only ones that can and will address these issues,” I mused out-loud.
How do you motivate students to be actively engaged citizens to be critical of society's injustices, striving for a better, healthier, more equitable, and sustainable world? How do you motivate them when all you can think about is your own white privilege and how it has sheltered you from many of the very issues you are asking them to rail against? You want them to be critical of your country, the world, but have you been?
I teach a service-learning course centered around stormwater management and the health of a local river where my students volunteer, integrate stakeholder needs through the design process, and critically reflect upon their experiences. But this year I found myself on a journey past typical good will and good deeds that arise from a traditional service-learning courses and toward a more critical perspective. As Mitchell (2008) argued, critical service-learning should have a social change orientation, work to redistribute power, and develop authentic relationships. When I first heard this framework and let it sink in, the sense of dread and uncertainty engulfed me. I realized I had glaring gaps in my course that needed to addressed if I were to ever hope to teach from a critical perspective.
"What is your identity? And how does your identity then manifest itself into your actions, your classes, your...does it matter if you're a staff person or a faculty person, and does that force your identity to go different ways?”
As a cohort we explored these issues through intimate discussion, critical analysis of assessment scales, and now through our own reflection. Prior to this experience, would I have ever thought about my own white privilege and positionality—my identity that I bring to my teaching and my course? Would I have ever explored Mitchell’s (2008) work on critical service-learning? The honest answer is most likely not.
“I expected to be uncomfortable and I expected it to make me think...I really feel it did,” I said.
While I may have embraced the uncomfortable and uncovered some of my own biases I bring to my teaching, I do still feel lost. Reading isn’t doing and I still find myself unsure of where to begin on this critical service-learning journey.
HEADLINE: Fellow parent defends day care after stabbing incident.
Lafayette police said, just before 5 p.m., two mothers came to pick up their children. The two women had ongoing issues with each other and a fight broke out in the parking lot.
"Two women were involved in a physical altercation. During the fight, one of them presented a knife and one of them was stabbed," Sgt. Michael Brown said.
I was there with five of my service-learning students delivering their final educational presentation to our project partners. We were on lock-down. My students were in shock, and then TJ said, “this reminds us why we do this…if we can impact just one child, give them hope for a better future it is all worth it.”
I sensed he was on the verge of connecting the dots and approaching the ideas of critical service-learning, but I was also worried that white privilege might rear its ugly head. I was eager to integrate this incident and this learning opportunity into class the next day, but I was unclear as to how to do so in a way that adheres to the tenants of critical service-learning and respectfully honors my students’ and project partners’ thoughts and opinions.
It as was at this moment, that I knew I needed a clear plan for developing my own understanding and ability to implement the foundations of critical service-learning in my course. As fellows we talked about the journey and how we might “approach” critical service-learning, but I needed to put in the work. I also needed to accept that perhaps, truly fostering critical, reflective perspectives in one semester just might not be possible. I had tried to integrate probing questions into my students’ reflection assignments that would begin to spark some awareness in regards to their own positionality and bias as they approach their projects and project partners. We also had a few moments of in-class discussion that touched upon these issues, but I never felt like I was moving the dial. I just didn’t know how.
Beyond the terms of our fellowship we will continue to develop a toolkit for faculty interested in approaching critical service-learning and I think this might be the part in which I most look forward to participating. Now that I have completed my service-learning course, this summer will also afford me the time to reflect upon my curriculum and discuss ideas with my fellow cohort. I plan to review the key literature in critical service-learning, seek additional “how-to,” practical examples toward fostering critical perspectives in the classroom, and ultimately develop activities for moving my students’ understanding (and mind) to a more critical perspective.