Some Reflections on Service-Learning and the Heritages of Liberal Arts Higher Education.

The term, service-learning, is in the air at just about any conference involving educators. The range of different kinds of programs reflects the range of different interpretations of what the term itself might mean. In some institutions of higher learning, dedicated staff members and enthusiastic students have made service-learning an important part of the collegiate experience. In other institutions, similarly dedicated staff members straggle to gain acceptance for the very notion that service-learning could be legitimate, let alone be an integral or valuable part of the curriculum.

It is not uncommon to hear discussions regarding strategies for gaining the attention and support of colleagues for the service-learning enterprise. All too often, this takes on the tone of a "Trojan Horse:" if only a significant enough program could be inserted into the institution, then people would see its value, and begin to support service-learning as an ongoing part of the campus culture.

Tragically, in my view, some of the very best reasons for supporting service-learning are buried in mission statements, where we never look to see them. The comments which follow are addressed to those working within liberal arts colleges--especially private, church-related institutions, I'll not try to discuss various types of service-learning programs or opportunities, but rather to suggest why it is incumbent upon institutions to think seriously about the role of service in their curriculum and culture.

All kinds of reasons can be advanced for students being involved in service-learning--such projects can provide valuable networking for possible future employment, the experience is an excellent item to include in a resume, students can learn teamwork working with each other or members of the community, the experience fulfills religious or philosophical convictions about the need to do good, student participation in service will be good for public relations, etc. Yet all these reasons begin by thinking about the experience itself and working backward to justify its inclusion in the collegiate framework.

I believe that the dual heritages of the civic-republican tradition and the Judeo-Christian tradition, in which so many of the nation's higher education institutions were founded, not only allow service-learning, but virtually compel it, if those heritages are taken at all seriously. The very term liberal arts, coined by Cicero centuries ago was used by him to refer to those skills and knowledge appropriate to free citizens in a democratic society, fitting those citizens for involvement in public deliberations. Too often given only lip service in official documents, preparation for citizenship was the principal goal of a liberal arts education. Such an education was to produce individuals whose character and aptitudes would impel them to improving the state of the society of which they were members.

On one hand, service-learning programs become, not something that is grudgingly tacked on to the list of requirements, but rather a laboratory for civic education as essential as laboratory experiences in biology, chemistry, or physics. What are the skills, aptitudes, and characteristics of citizenship which are to be nurtured by a liberal arts education? Certainly communication skills are basic. Clear, concise speaking and writing are needed for the citizen to let others know his or her thoughts. Just as important are analytical reading and listening, so that ideas from others may be weighed and adopted, rejected, or modified. The citizen is convinced, with J. S. Mill, that in a world in which human fallibility prevents any of us from having only right answers, openness to ideas of others is crucial as both a test of and a complement to one's own.

The good citizen exercises justice, moderation and self control, and courage to put these in action. With others, the citizen exercises prudentia, or practical wisdom. Unlike technical knowledge which allows us to make or do things, and unlike theoretical knowledge which helps us to know things, practical wisdom has us engaged in deciding on courses of action (thus practical) which lead toward what both Aristotle and Plato (working from somewhat different contexts, and thus to different results) would call the Good.

On the other hand, in addition to the role of service experience as a laboratory for learning civic skills, the civic republican tradition of Aristotle, Cicero and others also recognized the responsibility--the obligation--of the citizen to serve the community. Just as the community can nurture healthy individuals within it, those individual citizens must in turn contribute to the ongoing vitality of the community.

While the focus of the civic republican tradition was on the healthy polis, the Judeo-Christian tradition had long emphasized virtues which led to service. The prophet Micah asks, "What doth the LORD require of thee but to do justly and to love mercy ..." (Micah 6:8). In the well-known 13th chapter of I Corinthians, Paul concludes by listing some of the cardinal virtues of the tradition: "And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity." The teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, such as the parable of the Good Samaritan, the Sermon on the Mount, and the illustration of good trees bearing good fruit, all call on people to put into action those virtues listed by Paul.

This tradition also emphasizes that all human beings are ultimately a part of the family of humankind and interdependent. It is convenient for many in the modern world to try to ignore this ultimately spiritual connection. But political, military, and ecological events, as well as much recent interdisciplinary scientific research at the frontiers of knowledge would suggest that we ignore these connections at our peril.

Professor Martin Marty from the University of Chicago has spoken about the predicament of church-related institutions representing a particular theological heritage within a pluralistic society. He suggests that such institutions best serve students not so much when specific doctrines are taught but when the institutions ensure that particular, enduring questions will be raised during the time of the student's enrollment. Along this line, and bearing in mind the centrality of service within the Judeo-Christian tradition, I believe it is incumbent upon church-related colleges to ensure that service is an integral part of the culture of the campus.

Thus, both traditions, which support so many liberal arts institutions, place a very high value on service. Given the fact that we are speaking of educational institutions, it is surely logical to integrate that as service-learning. Carefully executed, a service-learning program provides a laboratory for developing civic skills, provides an opportunity for citizens to serve the community, provides nurturing for the character of the individual, provides a good in the community being served, and provides rich experience which can greatly enhance learning in itself, and which informs more traditional classroom-based coursework.

For those institutions who wish to take seriously the heritages in which they are founded, the question becomes one, not of seeking a justification for considering service-learning, but rather a question of how it would ever be possible not to embrace service-learning.

Dr. David Hendricksen was Associate Professor of Music at Tusculum College in Greeneville, Tennessee. In 1992, he was presented with the Outstanding Teaching and Leadership Award by his faculty colleagues. <[e-mail]>.