Abstract
This study uses social cartography to map student perceptions of a co-curricular service-learning project in an impoverished rural community. As a complement to narrative discourse, mapping provides an opportunity to visualize not only the spatial nature of the educational experience but also, in this case, the benefits of civic engagement. The authors suggest that short-term immersion programs can provide students, regardless of their previous experiences with service, with opportunities to develop dispositions for active citizenship. Their maps, which envision a heterotopic space in two dimensions, examine the relationship between thought and action, specifically between empathy and apathy, and illustrate how what the students brought to the experience, in terms of their motivations and inclinations toward service-learning, as well as what they took away, in terms of their likelihood to participate in future service, ultimately led to individual growth and transformation.
The purposes of higher education are changing. Institutions are no longer responsible for simply disseminating information or reproducing the workforce. In addition to training competent citizens and employees, contemporary purposes of higher education include ensuring equitable opportunities for success, educating democratic leaders, and teaching students how to interact with diverse populations (Kahlenberg, 2011). To this last end in particular, a growing number of institutions, from community colleges to state universities, are committed to providing students with holistic learning experiences, encouraging and oftentimes mandating participation in co-curricular and academic service-learning programs, including advocacy and community-based research programs, which promote personal growth and active citizenship in addition to skill building and academic learning (Bowen, 2011).
The implementation of service-learning programs, which are designed to engage students in the community, have been shown to foster a sense of civic responsibility not only among participants but also between the participants and the communities they serve (Bowen, 2011). One of the most common ways that institutions incorporate these kinds of co-curricular democratic learning opportunities is through the use of short-term, service-oriented immersion programs, such as alternative spring breaks (Rhoads and Neururer, 1998; Stanton et al., 1999). Through these programming efforts, institutions are encouraging their student-participants to become active citizens, affording them opportunities to work alongside one another in direct service to underserved communities or individuals in need. These programs also encourage reflection, individually and through discussion groups, on important political and social justice issues, such as systematic poverty, that may emerge during a trip but may not manifest during classroom discussion, thus allowing students to unpack their shared experience in ways that a more traditional learning environment does not typically allow.
The co-curricular service-learning program examined in this study follows the traditional civic engagement model of higher education, which pairs organized direct service with regular reflection as part of the overall experience (Bowen, 2011). As an alternative spring break program, this experience was designed to provide students with an opportunity to work in an underserved community for an entire week. Workdays would be followed by nightly reflection, allowing students to regularly unpack their immersion experience communally, as well as individually. The program was intended to foster not only the participants’ own sense of individual responsibility but also their identification as members of a complex social system, with the hope that they would realize their own potential to facilitate positive change (Mayhew and Engberg, 2011; Welch, 2009). In turn, the idea was that this experience would encourage the students to continue developing their commitment to civic engagement post-experience, as their participation would ideally lead them to a habit of active citizenship.
The site for this program, the pseudonymous Appalachian community of Sturdy Pines, was selected for its contrast to the community setting in which the student-participants resided. In this sense, the community partner, a religious retreat that hosts volunteer missions, was chosen to provide students with a situation that, when compared with their present living conditions, served as a challenge to the familiar. More specifically, the partner offered students the opportunity to observe rich mountain culture while serving elderly and/or disabled community members by building and repairing local homes. This provided the unique opportunity for the students to work alongside volunteers from other institutions, as well as with Appalachian community members, which encouraged the participants to engage with people from situations and cultures that differed from their own, to completely immerse themselves in a challenging and engaging civic-learning and cultural experience.
The site offered a rigorous work schedule that saw students in tasks related to housing rehabilitation for the residents of Sturdy Pines. Common home repairs included grounds-keeping, roofing, painting, and building wheelchair ramps, as well as refurbishing old tool sheds and carports. More importantly, the service included regular interactions with the homeowners that the students were serving, providing the participants with the opportunity to learn about the residents’ personal lives, the history of their homes, and their experiences living in Appalachia. This allowed the students to engage in direct service, while also offering companionship, albeit temporary, to the elderly individuals who they were serving. In this study, we examined the students’ experiences by using social cartography to map their perceptions before and after the service-learning experience. In particular, we explored how the participants’ experience on a short-term immersion co-curricular service-learning trip could transform not only their understanding of social issues but also their level of civic engagement.
Social cartography
Social cartography, ‘the art and science of mapping ways of seeing’, can provide researchers with a complement to narrative discourse (Paulston, 1996: xv). Whereas narrative models, such as transcripts or personal histories, emphasize temporality, maps produce a different kind of knowledge ‘that can highlight and help to examine the spatial character of educational experience’, especially as it relates to issues of identity and social justice (Ruitenberg, 2007: 10). According to Paulston and Liebman (1994), who first used social cartography to help comparative educators situate themselves by mapping paradigms and theories in comparative education discourse, mapping ‘has the potential to be a useful discourse style for demonstrating the attributes and capacities, as well as the development and perceptions, of people and cultures operating within the social milieu’ (p. 232).
In one of her first mapping exercises, for example, Stromquist (1996) demonstrates how different actors, including international development agencies, national governments, and feminist academics, can influence the quality of educational interventions to improve the conditions of women in developing counties. She writes, ‘Mapping, by forcing us to think in terms of discrete entities occupying specific spaces, makes us aware of the spaces we inhabit and the positions we take relative to others’ (p. 242). Similarly, Lather (1996) uses social cartography to explore the implications of postmodernism for emancipatory projects. She maps the tensions surrounding the transnationalization of contemporary theoretical discourse, and suggests that spatial metaphors, especially in the context of postcolonial feminism, have the capacity ‘to unlearn accepted ways of thinking and analysis that reinscribe dominance within the context of a politics of difference and a vision of social justice’ (p. 368). In both cases, social maps provide opportunities to engage the kind of cultural mininarratives that are so often overlooked.
More recently, social cartography has been used to map everything from rural women’s perspectives on nonformal educational experiences to practitioner perceptions of scientific research, from knowledge spaces and inquiry genres in comparative education discourse to the epistemological position of researchers in education policy (Ahmed, 2003; Mehta, 2009; Nicholson-Goodman and Garman, 2007; Tello and Mainardes, 2012). For Nicholson-Goodman (2012), who mapped the doctoral journey via autobiographical consciousness, social cartography ‘is meant to serve as a means for making sense not only of one’s positioning within a specific disciplinary surround, but also in relation to one’s own sense of self and of being-in-the-world and of the reasons for that positioning’ (p. 253). This suggests that mapping, while applicable to subjects across the social sciences, is as much about individual growth and development as it is about opening space for marginalized populations in the social milieu.
In this study, we extend the literature by mapping the perspectives of the students involved with a service-learning project in Appalachia. Our goal is to demonstrate how the spatial turn in the way we think about civic engagement can provide practitioners with an opportunity to visualize and reflect on their own experiences while also evaluating the experiences of student-participants that are unavailable from narrative discourse. Unlike previous exercises in social cartography, which typically map diverse perspectives or relationships at a particular moment in time, our research offers a glimpse at personal transformation that encourages debate and responds to Paulston’s (2000) challenge ‘to represent and compare the growing complexity of socio-educational phenomena [that] require a generosity of spirit and a deepening self-understanding that may leave many behind’ (p. 363). By situating the participants’ perceptions in maps that highlight growth, not only in terms of personal action but also in terms of individual levels of compassion, this study challenges traditional models of social cartography to offer insight into the ability of short-term immersion programs to cultivate dispositions for responsible citizenship.
Methodology
Social cartography is primarily concerned with the interrelationality of knowledge claims in the cultural surround. In order to map these claims, which are presented here as student perceptions of civic engagement, it is important to identify not only ‘the range of positions in the intertextual mix’ but also ‘the textual communities that share a way of seeing and communicating reality’ (Paulston, 1999: 453–454). This suggests that making a social map involves more than just defining its boundaries, usually in the form of vertical and horizontal axes; it also requires the identification of spatial relationships among the actors contained within those boundaries, as well as an explanation of how those relationships are being analyzed.
In Ahmed’s (2003) conceptual mapping of rural women’s perspectives on nonformal educational experiences, for example, space is described along axes of Equilibrium/Transformation and Focus on Actors/Focus on Subjects, and individual perspectives are plotted with respect to radical humanism, radical functionalism, humanism, and functionalism. Similarly, in Mehta’s (2009) Alexandrian-style conceptualization of Paulston’s map of knowledge spaces and inquiry genres in comparative education discourse, space is described along axes of Little Story/Big Story and Constructed Reality/Foundational Reality, and texts are plotted with respect to their focus on literary texts, nomothetic theories, ideographic studies, symbolic codes, and perspectivist mappings.
After delineating the map’s boundaries and establishing the relationships among the claimants, the next step is ‘to explicate what point of view is being utilized in the study, to disclose the interrelations of the field or site itself, and to convey something of the personal or professional experiences that have led … [to the choice of] a particular point of view’ (Paulston, 1999: 454). In other words, the map cannot stand on its own. It must be accompanied by an explanation of the choices that led to its construction.
Participants
The participants for this study are 12 undergraduate students, 10 females and two males, from a private suburban liberal arts college in western Pennsylvania. The institution serves approximately 5500 students, including 2000 residential undergraduate students, housed within five academic schools. The sample comprises students who volunteered for a short-term immersion co-curricular service-learning project during the spring of 2014. While the experience was open to the entire student body, this trip was only attended by sophomore, junior, and senior students. The participants represented nine majors from across the university—biology, biomedical engineering, communications, economics, journalism, management, marketing, nursing, and public relations—and identified as Black (one student), Mexican (one student), Saudi Arabian (one student), and White (nine students). Participants came to the trip with various levels of previous experience with service. Some of them had never served a community before, while others regularly volunteered their time in extended or short-term direct-service opportunities, such as mission trips through their places of worship.
Longitudinal design
This study offers a unique longitudinal design using social cartography as the method of inquiry. Prior to engaging in the service-learning experience, the students participated in an exploratory focus group that featured 10 open-ended questions in a semi-structured interview format. At this time, the researchers collected data in the form of audio transcripts that focused on the students’ motivations for participating in the project (see Table 1).
Student perceptions of civic engagement (pre-trip).
After engaging in the service-learning project, the students participated in a reflective focus group, which was held two weeks after the experience to allow for personal debriefing and independent reflection. This time the semi-structured interview consisted of eight open-ended questions that encouraged the students to share their thoughts related to their participation and service, as well as to the community they served in general (see Table 2).
Student perceptions of civic engagement (post-trip).
Our maps’ boundaries were crafted through an initial open-coding method. The large raw data set of transcripts was coded according to general thematic areas regarding personal transformation as they related to the learning and growth outcomes of the project. After these larger chunks of code were created, the researchers used more focused coding methods based on student responses, which led to the final thematic coding that included the empathy and action spectrums from which the maps were generated.
Decoding the map
Our map comprises four layers in two dimensions (see Figures 1 and 2). It is shaped like a circle not only because a circle represents potential, as an embryonic symbol, but also because a circle represents unity, as a geometric figure both encompassing and being composed of all points inscribed within. There is no right way to observe our map; however, the text has been positioned such that the more desirable traits, as they pertain to the desired learning outcomes for the participants, indicating a commitment to continuing active citizenship, both in thought and action, appear in the northeast quadrant.
Perspectivist mapping of student perceptions of civic engagement (pre-trip).
Perspectivist mapping of student perceptions of civic engagement (post-trip).
In the outermost layer, space is arranged along axes of Passive/Active and Apathetic/Empathetic. The horizontal dimension, on the one hand, considers the likelihood that students will engage in service outside of the service-learning experience. Those who appear toward the left side of the map, for example, are less likely to engage than those who appear on the right. The vertical dimension, on the other hand, considers the likelihood that students have developed positive dispositions toward underserved populations, such as the elderly residents they served during the trip. Those who appear toward the bottom of the map, for example, are less concerned, either through ignorance or an acceptance of metanarratives of progress or personal responsibility, than those who appear toward the top. According to Paulston (1996): ‘Every social map is the product of its makers and open to continuous revision and interrogation. In the process of mapping meaning, the subject is seen to be mobile and constituted in the shifting space where multiple and competing discourses intersect’ (p. xxi). This suggests that our map is just one of many ways that cartographers could approach the subject of service-learning.
It is important to note that the poles on the cardinal sides of the map are not intended to establish dichotomies. While the use of outliers may seem to promote binary relationships, the researchers align with Nicholson-Goodman (1996) in her use of the term dichotomy in its astronomical sense: ‘that is, the phase of the moon (or an inferior planet) when half of its disc is visible’ (p. 308). This suggests that rather than promoting categories that are mutually exclusive, the poles on our map are encouraging an interplay between the outliers that celebrates difference instead of establishing a hierarchy. While some people might read the traits on one side of the map as being more desirable than the traits on the other side, the map itself does not make or encourage any such claim. Similarly, the arrows that define this layer are not intended to limit the space within the illusion of a Cartesian plane. Instead, the space between the arrows should be read as allowing for, and in fact encouraging, the inclusion of more perspectives as future iterations of the map are developed.
In the next layer, space is inscribed within a nebulous figure indicated by a dotted line. This figure is meant to appear elastic, meaning that it has the capacity to expand or contract as new claimants (i.e., student perspectives) are added to or removed from the map. For Paulston (1999), cartographers must ‘[resist] all modernist urges to box in or lay down a grid’ (p. 454). This suggests that there is no such thing as a coordinate plane in social cartography, meaning that the claimants are positioned in relation to each other rather than attached to specific points in the field; in theory, then, there is the potential to include an infinite number of student perspectives on the map. In much the same way that interplanetary bodies interact, the addition of each new perspective alters the position of every other perspective on the map. This implies that the position of the first perspective we included on our map shifted 11 times from its initial position as other perspectives were added and new ideas were taken into account.
In the next layer, space is further described within four perspectives that appear at the intersections of the traits that comprise the map’s outermost rim. At the Passive-Apathetic intersection, for example, is a space for students who are disengaged from their community. Not only are they disinclined to act, they are also indifferent to the plight of marginalized populations. At the Active-Empathetic intersection, however, is a space for students who are proactive in their relationship with the community. Not only are they aware of injustice in society, they are also moved to do something about it, actively seeking opportunities to enact positive social change. There is also space at the Passive-Empathetic intersection for students who believe in social justice but are disinclined to act, as well as at the Active-Apathetic intersection for students who simply go along with the flow, helping out without an actual investment in what they are doing.
Finally, in the innermost layer, space is portrayed as an intertextual field where the claimants can be observed in actual relation to each other. This is a heterotopic space that is open to all perspectives while privileging none. According to Foucault (1986), heterotopias are ‘capable of juxtaposing in a single real place several spaces, several sites that are in themselves incompatible’ (p. 25). Although, for our purposes here, it is desirable, especially in the post-trip map, to see student perspectives clustered in the northeast domain, signifying proactive participation in the community, the students whose perceptions appear in the other spaces are not viewed as wrong or deficient. The map is merely a snapshot of their perceptions at a given moment in time, and there is always the potential for growth. In order to demonstrate this potential, each claimant is at the center of a nebulous figure that represents several possible positions at once. Wherever these clouds overlap, their borders have been connected to show similarities among claimants with similar perspectives. The secondary positions of the claimants were determined by the students’ responses to interview questions during the two focus groups, which are explained in the following section.
Our map, with its four layers in two dimensions, is but one possible figuration for examining student perceptions of civic engagement. As a complement to narrative discourse, it provides us with an opportunity to visualize not only the relationships among the claimants but also, with the implementation of a pretest-posttest design, the personal transformation that each student was able to realize as a direct result of participating in the service-learning experience. The general shift of perceptions from the southwest domain of the pre-trip map to the northeast domain of the post-trip map reinforces our argument that even the most disengaged students can start to become engaged citizens when given the chance to immerse themselves in structured, service-oriented immersion programs.
Analysis
In order to convey a better understanding of the maps in context, this section provides insight into the discussions held by participants in the pre-trip and post-trip focus groups. In particular, the following transcript excerpts showcase personal transformation in regard to student ideals and perceptions as they pertain to service and civic engagement. To eliminate the possibility of identification, gendered pronouns have been struck from the analysis.
Reinforced proactive perspectives
Some of the participants came to the experience with proactive attitudes toward service. Although they indicated that this trip reinforced how they felt about the importance of helping people in need, the position of their perspectives did not change much from one map to the next. One clear example of a reinforced proactive perspective is Student 1. Student 1 demonstrated a strong orientation toward civic engagement pre-trip, and regularly participated in service projects on campus and in the greater community. Due to this student’s past experience with alternative break programs, there was already a level of understanding of social issues, as well as a commitment to civic engagement, present in the student’s perceptions. Post-trip, however, the student noted a personal transformation due to participating in this particular program, explaining, ‘The trip changed my life in all aspects. At one point, I just thought, “I have had a great life experience”. I now know about [Sturdy Pines,] poverty, and I got to meet all of these people’. Moreover, Student 1 discussed a desire to participate in future alternative break trips. While this student entered the experience situated within the northeast domain (Active-Empathetic), there was still a slight shift in Student 1’s perspective to the right due to participation in the service experience, which is highlighted on the post-trip map.
Emergent proactive perspectives
Several of the participants demonstrated proactive perspectives post-trip that they did not exhibit during the initial focus group. In some cases, these shifts were subtle—Student 4, for example, moved from an indolent perspective to a proactive one—while in other cases, these shifts were significant—Student 8, for example, moved from a disengaged perspective to a proactive one. To elaborate, as a previous alternative spring break participant and casual volunteer, Student 6 had a pre-existing awareness of the importance of service; however, in regards to participating in this particular alternative spring break experience, Student 6’s motivation for enrollment in the program was related to going on a road trip with close friends. It was this source of motivation, coupled with a loose understanding of civic engagement, which positioned Student 6 initially in the southwest domain (Passive-Apathetic). However, after the experience, Student 6 noted a stronger understanding of social issues, as well as a self-proclaimed connection to the region, its people, and the culture, ultimately inspiring this student to apply to work at the service-site for the summer following the program. It is activity shifts of this type that placed Student 6, and likeminded participants, in the northeast domain (Active-Empathetic) post-trip.
Emergent compliant perspectives
There were also several participants who demonstrated a shift from disengaged perspectives pre-trip to compliant perspectives post-trip. Unlike those students who appeared ready to continue to engage in service, these students were beginning to understand the importance of engaging with underserved communities. For example, a lack of funding to go on a ‘real spring break’ was Student 12’s motivation for participating in the alternative spring break program, explaining, ‘To be honest, we were going to go on a spring break, but we’re all too poor, so we wanted to do something, and this was a good alternative’. This lack of engagement and seemingly low level of empathy placed Student 12 in the southwest domain (Passive-Apathetic) pre-trip. However, post-trip, this student explained that the trip afforded the opportunity to increase knowledge of self and service, thus leading the student to become ‘more inclined to find ways to get involved’. This shift in mindset and push to compliance exemplified in Student 12’s transformation is what helped situate participants in the northeast domain (Active-Apathetic) post-trip.
Developing indolent and disengaged perspectives
Even after the service experience, there were some participants who did not seem to grasp the importance of serving underprivileged communities. For example, Student 2 enrolled in the service-learning experience specifically to complete co-curricular transcript requirements in order to be acknowledged at graduation, an example of an institution offering students incentives to participate in service outside of the general curriculum. As the student’s motivation was solely for academic reasons, on the pre-trip map, Student 2 appeared in the southwest domain (Passive-Apathetic); there was, after all, no other impetus for enrollment in the experience than the exception of graduation requirements. However, post-trip, Student 2 displayed positive transformation, describing the experience as enlightening, as there was an increased knowledge of self, the region, the community, and the student’s fellow participants due to participation in the experience. While Student 2 found the experience enjoyable and beneficial to future career plans, there was no noted desire to participate in future service projects, thus leaving the student in the southwest domain, with a noted shift from disengagement toward indolence. In this sense, while the participants sharing this mindset acknowledged the meaning made in the experience, they expressed no interest in maintaining a level of civic engagement post-trip.
Limitations
In the context of service-learning, social cartography can be used to advance the argument that short-term, service-oriented immersion projects foster an appreciation in students toward positive social action. Although there are limitations—Ruitenberg (2007), for example, suggests that practitioners may suffer from a general lack of ‘carto-literacy’ or limited access to mapping software, while Watson (1998) contends that a lack of hard data can reduce social cartography to little more than an exercise in ‘intellectual gymnastics’ (p. 108)—the benefits of exploring the spatial nature of education are worth the trouble. After all, it does not matter if one is using an expensive computer program or simply tracing the rim of a coffee mug to make a map, so long as the effort contributes to the discourse.
In addition, while the study was able to map the students’ immediate perceptions surrounding their transformative outcomes, it was not able to account for long-term effects. Further research should be conducted to determine whether the passage of time has allowed for deeper levels of civic-engagement, or a retraction of initial perceptions and intentions as they relate to civic engagement and feelings surrounding social justice issues.
Conclusion
Moving forward, we invite practitioners to consider our maps in the context of their own service-learning projects, or, even better, to design their own maps that might better suit their needs. As Paulston (1999) suggests, it is important for cartographers to ‘field test [maps] with the individuals or knowledge communities involved’, to ‘share the conflicting interpretations and remap as desired’ (p. 454). After all, without the consideration of multiple discourses, the temporal and the spatial notwithstanding, it is impossible to account for the complexity that practitioners continue to encounter in the field.
The institutional focus on civic and democratic engagement in higher education has led to an increase in service-learning programs on campuses nationwide. These programs are created with desired learning outcomes centered on participant growth and development, as well as on fostering an increased sense of civic responsibility (Mayhew and Engberg, 2011). As exemplified by our maps of the students’ service-learning experiences in Appalachia, short-term immersion programs have the potential to greatly enhance student learning and development. Participants in this particular trip reported not only an increased awareness of social issues but also a desire to continue participating in community outreach projects, both in their own communities and beyond. This desire for continued engagement is due to the participants’ realization of their individual ability to affect positive change based on their alternative spring break experience.
With the focus of higher education shifting toward holistic learning practices, specifically toward those that provide experiential learning opportunities and foster a sense of civic and democratic engagement among students, service-learning programming appropriately fills a need within the field. Programs such as alternative spring breaks afford students the opportunity to not only take a praxis approach to their learning but also to broaden their cultural understanding in context while encouraging their growth as active citizens. In this sense, civic engagement programming at institutions is a response to the industry call for holistic engagement opportunities for students. Therefore, as these programs provide an observable transformative experience, challenging students through various projects and community opportunities, we contend that service-learning is an important part of the higher education experience, and thus should be supported and encouraged wherever possible.
Footnotes
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.