This past summer in 2021, I started volunteering at HOPE in Lancaster, a non-profit organization focused on food and housing insecurity in my hometown. I thought volunteering would just be something nice to do--nice for others because I thought I would help make others’ lives better and nice for me because I thought it would be a good experience to put on my resume. During my time at HOPE, I have primarily helped support the Volunteer Coordinator through data entry. Basically, I enter volunteers’ hours, volunteer applications, and even run background checks--tasks that are crucial but would take a lot of time out of the Coordinator’s day when he could be focused on actually recruiting more volunteers. I really enjoyed tasks like this because I could be on my own while still helping the organization.
Shortly after I started volunteering, I also began the PALM 495: Service-Learning class. During the first week of the class, I was tasked with reading an article, written by Rachel Naomi Remen, that explored the difference between “Helping, Fixing, or Serving.” In the article, Remen writes the following: “Helping, fixing and serving represent three different ways of seeing life. When you help, you see life as weak. When you fix, you see life as broken. When you serve, you see life as whole. Fixing and helping may be the work of the ego, and service the work of the soul.” After I read this, I started to examine the mindset that I had going to volunteer every week, and I found I had the mindset of someone who was only helping, not serving. I started volunteering partly because of my own “ego” and because I thought it would be a beneficial experience to me. I thought it was a good decision because I was helping others who lived in Lancaster. But, my goal should have been not to help but to serve.
This realization that I needed a change in mindset has deepened even further as this Fall 2021 semester has progressed. In my ENGL 427: Southern Literature class, we have been focusing a lot on identity in the South. One week, my professor asked us this question: “Can southern culture really have an ‘other,’ since it is pretty much a culture that is considered to be an ‘other’ in and of itself?” This question led me to further examine my own identities and how they affect my service at HOPE in Lancaster. When I went to HOPE to volunteer, I was coming as a student and person who wanted to give back to the city that has given me so much. But in doing so, I was inadvertently “othering” the people I thought I was helping. Remen writes, “a helper may see others as weaker than they are, needier than they are, and people often feel this inequality.” We all need the same things--food, water, shelter, etc.--but some of us are more privileged than others. Yet, my initial mindset did not align with this as I viewed the people I was helping as “others,” people who also lived in Lancaster but were not part of my community.
As Remen writes, “we cannot serve at a distance. We can only serve those to which we are profoundly connected.” To truly serve someone, you must embrace the common identities you share, even if the only connection you find is that you’re both human beings. We are all human beings, and as such everyone deserves to be treated as equals with respect.
Shortly after I started volunteering, I also began the PALM 495: Service-Learning class. During the first week of the class, I was tasked with reading an article, written by Rachel Naomi Remen, that explored the difference between “Helping, Fixing, or Serving.” In the article, Remen writes the following: “Helping, fixing and serving represent three different ways of seeing life. When you help, you see life as weak. When you fix, you see life as broken. When you serve, you see life as whole. Fixing and helping may be the work of the ego, and service the work of the soul.” After I read this, I started to examine the mindset that I had going to volunteer every week, and I found I had the mindset of someone who was only helping, not serving. I started volunteering partly because of my own “ego” and because I thought it would be a beneficial experience to me. I thought it was a good decision because I was helping others who lived in Lancaster. But, my goal should have been not to help but to serve.
This realization that I needed a change in mindset has deepened even further as this Fall 2021 semester has progressed. In my ENGL 427: Southern Literature class, we have been focusing a lot on identity in the South. One week, my professor asked us this question: “Can southern culture really have an ‘other,’ since it is pretty much a culture that is considered to be an ‘other’ in and of itself?” This question led me to further examine my own identities and how they affect my service at HOPE in Lancaster. When I went to HOPE to volunteer, I was coming as a student and person who wanted to give back to the city that has given me so much. But in doing so, I was inadvertently “othering” the people I thought I was helping. Remen writes, “a helper may see others as weaker than they are, needier than they are, and people often feel this inequality.” We all need the same things--food, water, shelter, etc.--but some of us are more privileged than others. Yet, my initial mindset did not align with this as I viewed the people I was helping as “others,” people who also lived in Lancaster but were not part of my community.
As Remen writes, “we cannot serve at a distance. We can only serve those to which we are profoundly connected.” To truly serve someone, you must embrace the common identities you share, even if the only connection you find is that you’re both human beings. We are all human beings, and as such everyone deserves to be treated as equals with respect.
ENGL 427: Southern Literature Discussion Post Artifact
Does knowing that a writer is gay change the way we read their work? Does their work stand out as something other than southern? Can southern culture really have an “other,” since it is pretty much a culture that is considered to be an “other” in and of itself?
Knowing that a writer is gay absolutely changes the way we read their work. Anytime you learn about the identities of an author, it will change your perspective. For example, Ed Madden’s “Inferno” is read much differently if you believe the speaker to be a gay man who wants Grey to “dip the tip of his finger / in water and cool [his] tongue,” as opposed to a straight woman instead (Lines 29-30).
Although Southern culture can already be considered an “other,” there are still groups within it that are still considered “other.” For example, the strong religious culture in the South has made the LGBTQ+ community into “other.” But, just because one subgroup might be considered “other” does not mean the two identities are mutually exclusive. A Southerner can be gay, and a gay person can be Southern. I think cultures are definitely shifting, and the stigma around the LGBTQ+ community is lessening in some areas, but there are still a lot of places in the South where it’s not safe to be out. Southern literature done by gay people, about gay people, and for gay people is definitely crucial to stop “othering” gay Southerners.
Knowing that a writer is gay absolutely changes the way we read their work. Anytime you learn about the identities of an author, it will change your perspective. For example, Ed Madden’s “Inferno” is read much differently if you believe the speaker to be a gay man who wants Grey to “dip the tip of his finger / in water and cool [his] tongue,” as opposed to a straight woman instead (Lines 29-30).
Although Southern culture can already be considered an “other,” there are still groups within it that are still considered “other.” For example, the strong religious culture in the South has made the LGBTQ+ community into “other.” But, just because one subgroup might be considered “other” does not mean the two identities are mutually exclusive. A Southerner can be gay, and a gay person can be Southern. I think cultures are definitely shifting, and the stigma around the LGBTQ+ community is lessening in some areas, but there are still a lot of places in the South where it’s not safe to be out. Southern literature done by gay people, about gay people, and for gay people is definitely crucial to stop “othering” gay Southerners.