Since beginning my higher education, I have been taught the necessity of chopping my life into various bits, packaging them and sliding them via bullet points onto the shelves of my resume for the world to see.
One part of my life never seemed to fit, though - community service.
Of the many concepts that underwent a transformation when I began college, "service" is one of the most profound.
Pre-college, I was one of those people who got involved in my communities just for the sake of being involved.
My favorite service "project" was being a Sunday school teacher, which eventually transitioned into being a mentor for junior high students in my church.
It was several hours of "unpaid" commitment every week.
And I loved it.
Then, as a journalism student at Mesa Community College, I learned about all the ways service is rewarded in the academic arena. Honors, scholarships, college credits and recognition could all be had for 300 hours or less.
That was the first red flag that went up. Service being rewarded by money and fame? How is it service, I wondered, if the server is getting something out of it?
Well, I had certainly put in enough hours for such recognition, but my service, being religious in nature, was on the wrong side of the politically correct divide and therefore ineligible for recognition from the world at large.
That gave me flag number two: only certain kinds of service were worthy.
And the final blow to my idea of service came with the realization that every hour of service had to be counted. The volunteer has to calculate, hour by hour, just what benefit they are getting out of the experience.
The hard, cold reality of "giving" in the competitive adult world removed much of my previous motivation. I hated the idea of serving to pad my resume. I began to seriously question why people serve.
My economics teachers tell me charity and service are part of our rational self-interest. We engage in them because they give us satisfaction.
My psychology class has taught me that the motivation is probably rooted in Maslow's hierarchy of needs - our esteem, belongingness and love needs.
My political science professor told me community involvement is the social capital upon which America was created and sustained.
So, according to academia, it was about the server's needs. After much confusion, I realized I needed to think it through myself.
I decided helpfulness should be encouraged by society. While required service hours may do little to create a giving spirit, it at least lends social approval to the acts - and maybe the participants will understand the greater motivation and benefits through experience.
Marginalization of the different kinds of service should be kept to a minimum.
Having the government do our service for us deprives both parties in the transaction: the "giver" feels resentful instead of invested, and the receiver suffers the delusion of entitlement.
And most of all, benefiting from service is unavoidable - especially for the person who believes in the pure power of service through sacrifice. It's one of those things that is twice blessed: it blesses the giver and the receiver.
Service is what lets us get over ourselves and see the bigger picture. It ties us to each other. It creates community. And it enriches life like nothing else can - even when it goes unacknowledged.
Reach the reporter at: francesca.vanderfeltz@asu.edu.
