Yesterday, the New York Times published an article that I’m going to file in the “inconclusive but interesting” folder. The piece, “Gauging the Dedication of Teacher Corps Grads”, comments on a new report that surveyed every person accepted by Teach for America from 1993 to 1998.
“A new study has found that their dedication to improving society at large does not necessarily extend beyond their Teach for America service.
In areas like voting, charitable giving and civic engagement, graduates of the program lag behind those who were accepted but declined and those who dropped out before completing their two years, according to Doug McAdam, a sociologist at Stanford University, who conducted the study with a colleague, Cynthia Brandt.”
Reactions on Twitter and in the blogosphere seem to go in two directions: either the article confirms people’s doubts the TFA can change the face of education or it remains too flawed and misleading to make a meaningful case. I certainly have my questions. What about the advancements TFA has made in the last 10 years since 1998? What is the control group? How exactly does the survey define a social citizen?
But as someone who myself served as a teacher for two years following college—in Japan on the JET Program, not through TFA—I feel the piece engages an important conversation around work and service.
In order to avoid the path toward cynicism, here are five questions you can ask yourself before deciding to mix work and service.
1. Are you doing it for the resume?
Sought-after service programs like TFA are often seen by employers and graduate schools as a noble star on a young person’s resume. When I joined the JET Program, I can’t say I didn’t think about how it would distinguish me in a competitive job market. But service work should make sense in your broader narrative. I had participated in education and social services throughout high school and college, and having traveled in Japan I had a dream of moving back there. Think hard about how a two-year commitment fits within your personal and professional story.
2. What are your goals?
Service is often thought of as doing things for others, but you have to understand what you want to get out of it for yourself. Develop your leadership skills? Experience living abroad or in another state? Continue your commitment to a particular issue? Write them down. When the social problems you’re trying to solve become overwhelming, turn to this list to keep yourself focused.
3. Have you done your research?
It’s easy to romanticize service work. Yet in many ways it’s really like any other job, filled with interpersonal challenges, frustrating bureaucracy, and growing responsibilities. Are you aware of your actual daily duties? Do you know if there are opportunities for professional development? Have you seen your potential living and work conditions? Actively seek out that kind of information and then set realistic expectations for yourself.
4. How will you deal with emotional stress?
The daily grind of service is exhausting, especially when you’re stationed far away from your family and friends. Couple that with minimal compensation and you’ll likely start questioning your choices. That’s not a desirable position for anyone. Putting that support system in place beforehand can be the difference between dedication and disillusionment.
5. What will you do once your service ends?
Of course, this is a trick question. We all know that service never really ends! But when burn out hits, you might find yourself saying, “I served for two full years of my life. I put in my time.” That’s a pretty hopeless response. Figure out what you like about service and find at least three ways to integrate that into your daily routine at work, with your family, or on your own.
Other important questions to ask? Write in the comments below.
I like how this post puts the NYT story into context. I especially like question four, which clearly links the piece with the author’s first-hand experience.