Beyond the Campus : Building a Sustainable University - Community Partnership [1 ed.] 9781623962432, 9781623962418

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Beyond the Campus Building a Sustainable University–Community Partnership

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Beyond the Campus Building a Sustainable University–Community Partnership

Debra A. Harkins with The Community Action Project Team

INFORMATION AGE PUBLISHING, INC. Charlotte, NC • www.infoagepub.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data   A CIP record for this book is available from the Library of Congress   http://www.loc.gov

ISBN:

978-1-62396-241-8 (Paperback) 978-1-62396-242-5 (Hardcover) 978-1-62396-243-2 (ebook)

Copyright © 2013 Information Age Publishing Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, microfilming, recording or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher. Printed in the United States of America

The Community Action Project Team Authors Sukanya Ray Carol Ann Sharicz Elizabeth Doppler-Bourassa Manila Austin Michelle Ronayne Clare M. Mehta Johnny P.Q. Nguyen Jody H. Pimentel-Eye

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Contents Foreword................................................................................................. ix Isaac Prilleltensky Preface.................................................................................................. xiii Introduction......................................................................................... xvii

Part

I

Engaged Scholarship: An Overview 1 Framing the Issue: Integrating Teaching, Research and Service....... 3 Debra Harkins and Sukanya Ray 2 Collaboration: A Systems View for Learning Communities.............. 13 Carol Sharicz

Part

II

University–Community Partnership: History and Method 3 Civic Engagement: Learning Through Community Service............ 31 Debra Harkins and Clare Mehta 4 Method: Community-Based Action Research.................................... 43 Debra Harkins

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Part

III

Lessons Learned: Building a Sustainable Partnership 5 Resolving Conflict: Taking Down the Walls....................................... 59 Debra Harkins, Elizabeth Bourassa, and Sukanya Ray 6 Building a Team: Be Ready for Elephants and Tomatoes................. 71 Manila Austin 7 Power Dynamics: What to Listen For and How to Ask Good Questions.................................................................................... 95 Michelle Ronayne 8 Students’ Perspectives on Service Learning: How do Students Become Effective Community Researchers?.................................... 107 Clare Mehta, Johnny Nguyen, and Jody Pimentel-Eye 9 Partnership: What Sustainability Looks Like................................... 129 Debra Harkins 10 Conclusions......................................................................................... 147 References................................................................................................... 155 Electronic Resources.................................................................................. 167 Acknowledgements..................................................................................... 169 About the Authors....................................................................................... 171 Index............................................................................................................ 175

Foreword Isaac Prilleltensky

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wo fundamental goals drive community-based research: wellness and fairness. The two are so related that I think of wellness as fairness. Broadly defined, wellness is about interpersonal, community, occupational, psychological, physical, and economic well-being. For each one of us to thrive, we must enjoy beneficial conditions leading to fulfillment in each one of these domains. Our exposure to propitious conditions depends, in turn, on different types of fairness. While the most common attribution to the words social justice is distributive justice, there are other types of justice, or fairness, equally important: procedural, relational, retributive, informational, cultural, developmental, and intrapersonal. Distributive justice is about the fair allocation of resources, gains, and pains. Procedural justice is primarily about fair processes, in which people have a say in matters affecting their lives. Relational justice is about granting people the respect they deserve in relationships. Retributive justice is about responsibility and paying for transgressions, and informational justice is about enabling people to know what is happening in their organizations and communities. Intrapersonal justice pertains to lack of fairness towards oneself. Developmental injustice pertains to cases in which people are subjected to unfair treatment due to their developmental stages. Child abuse, elder abuse, and parentification of children are cases of deBeyond the Campus, pages ix–xi Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

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velopmental injustice. Cultural injustice takes place when minority groups are discriminated against on the basis of their identity. All these types of justice and injustice affect well-being and education in meaningful ways (Prilleltensky, 2012). In this book we are treated to an in-depth analysis of how a group of investigators strive to advance wellness and fairness in an early education center. While the authors do not explicitly use wellness and fairness as an organizing framework, I believe their work confirms the assumption that wellness depends on fairness. The researchers were concerned with the well-being of children, educators, parents, and the community at large. Specifically, they were concerned about the interpersonal, community, physical, and psychological well-being of children in the center. They also worried about the occupational, interpersonal, psychological, and economic well-being of educators and administrators in the center. Through their work, they discovered that fairness questions were paramount to the well-being of their constituencies. Relational fairness issues were front and center: Children were violent towards each other and the place did not feel safe. Informational justice was an issue for educators who were not always apprised of rules and job expectations. Distributive justice was an important topic of discussion, as educators were not paid decent wages for their work. Procedural justice was debated when it came to who did what when in the center. Employees wanted procedural justice in allocation of duties, which impacted occupational climate and trust. As can be seen, questions of fairness permeated every aspect of the research project, which makes for a fascinating case study in negotiating wellness and fairness with multiple constituencies: children, educators, administrators, parents, students, and researchers. What impressed me about this book is the level of effort the researchers invested in fostering a climate of wellness and fairness with all involved. They went to great length to enact principles of relational, procedural, informational, and distributive justice—and, no less important, to document their struggles. Candor is a prerequisite for in-depth analyses of community-based research, and in this book we are served big portions of it. University–community partnerships tend to be less glamorous that they sound, but also more meaningful than expected. These partnerships are by no means easy, and many universities around the world are trying to “get it right.” I predict that it will be some time before we all “get it right,” but in the meantime, we can learn a great deal from this exceptionally honest, profound, and revealing book. This volume will be of great help to instructors striving to implement university–community partnerships. Students will appreciate the complexities of this work and be better prepared for the challenge. We

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owe much to this team of authors for advancing community-based research in the context of town–gown relations. The authentic pursuit of wellness and fairness in communities requires the level of investment demonstrated by this team. The work is demanding, but the rewards are worth it: We all get to benefit from the reflective nature of this book. From the uninitiated to the expert community-based researcher, all of us have something to learn from this work. Read it, reflect on it, and share it.

Reference Prilleltensky, I. (2012). Wellness as fairness. American Journal of Community Psychology, 49, 1–21.

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Preface

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othing focuses our attention on moral issues like war. Long before this project began, the first author, Debra Harkins, had longstanding questions about how parents’ and teachers’ moral perspectives affect the lives of children in underserved school settings. This interest started in graduate school when Dr. Harkins sought to understand and explore the moral frameworks that arose across and between parents and teachers concerning whether young children should learn and hear about the recent U.S. foray into the Persian Gulf War. As this issue of whether teachers should discuss U.S. involvement in war with students reached a fever pitch, research questions began to emerge about the role of teachers in children’s social and moral development. Controversy was so acute in this economically disadvantaged and diverse school setting that the principal instructed teachers to “not raise the issue of war unless students started the conversation.” Some teachers felt so strongly about the importance of student knowledge of the war that they stood outside the door of their classrooms, listening and waiting for the moment when a student might initiate the conversation. Only then would the teachers return to the classroom to explore and share knowledge about the war. Dr. Harkins’ interest in moral and social dynamics within school communities quickly expanded, as she frequently assumed the role of engaged researcher in underserved communities. In addition, teaching at Suffolk University furthered her interest to work with the underserved. Suffolk University is unusual in that its roots were as a higher education institute for Boston working class. Founded in

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1907, Suffolk dedicated itself to serve those—Boston Irish at the time—who were unwelcome at the larger established law universities in Boston. It is in that spirit that this book emerged. Sukanya Ray brought her cross-cultural training and work experiences from India, Australia, and the U.S. and served as a dissertation committee member three times. Her passion for community engagement comes from her exposure to diversity as a young child growing up in India, particularly the dedication and extraordinary effort and sacrifice made by many people for social justice and independence of India from British rule under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. Her own paternal grandfather, father, and many other family members actively participated in that civil rights movement as community leaders in the state of Orissa to engage, empower, and mobilize common people in rural areas with courage and altruism. Dr. Ray grew up in a family that emphasized and instilled values of giving back to your community/society and empowering the underprivileged. In addition, she was also inspired by a message “grow like a Banyan tree” given by a maternal ancestor (in-law’s family) Baja Ray who had no formal education and lived in a remote village in India. Baja used this metaphor, “grow like a Banyan tree,” to encourage and support her children during a period of tragic loss of resources and despair in her family life. The Banyan tree symbolizes qualities such as deeply rooted growth, vitality, hope, building unity, strong community connection, and protection. This book resonates with these values by focusing on building university–community partnerships. Carol Zulauf-Sharicz brought her extensive experience and work on organizational learning, service learning, and systems thinking to support, and served as a dissertation committee member three times. Elizabeth Doppler-Bourassa, Manila Austin, and Michelle Ronayne worked with the first author to complete their dissertation projects on conflict resolution, teambuilding, and power, respectively. Jody Pimental-Eye, Johnny Nguyen, and Clare Mehta were engaged in service learning and in community-based action research during their undergraduate training. As engaged scholars, we joined forces to think about the contributions that we could make to empower underserved communities while preparing university students to be responsible citizens through community-based action research and civic engagement. We believe that effective university– community partnerships provide a mechanism for connecting resources with need. We believe that this collaborative approach brings higher education back to its central mission of civic engagement.

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How We Got the Idea for This Book It began with a call for help from an executive director (ED) of a culturally and racially diverse, economically disadvantaged early learning center. The ED contacted the senior author requesting help to reduce conflicts and make her community safer. The ED and her center had a long history of marginalization and minimization both within and outside of the organization. We worked with the community to conduct a needs assessment and then provided a conflict resolution intervention with the community. We completed this first phase in two and a half years. After the first phase, we were ready to leave. However, teachers informed us that it was not their responsibility to train new teachers and administrators. Teachers and parents demanded that we, the consultants, train the administrators. At this point, the first author decided to stay and focus on working with the administrators. Unfortunately, the administrators did not want conflict resolution training; rather, they wanted to work on teambuilding. This led to another two-and-a-half-year university–community partnership. It was at this point that the first author realized that this project actually entailed a large, macro system issue. All those involved in this project repeatedly articulated the idea of sharing the story of this university–community collaboration, and the vision of writing a book on this partnership emerged.

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Introduction

[T]he goal for universities should be to contribute significantly to developing and sustaining democratic schools, communities, and societies; by working to realize that goal, democratic-minded academics can powerfully help American higher education in particular, and American schooling in general, return to their core mission—effectively educating students to be democratic, creative, caring, constructive citizens of a democratic society. —Harkavy, 2004

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early all colleges and universities have mission statements. Many have grandiose statements about their commitment to students, the local community, and society as a whole. The goals are worthy and laudable, but too often implementations become restricted by power structures within and outside of the academic institutions. In particular, local community outreach implemented by colleges and universities seems to be rife with overbearings of privilege and power. Trustee boards are made up of community leaders— doctors, lawyers, businesspersons, political leaders, and other professionals.  Outreach tends to be to people and institutions that can help further institutional goals, such as fundraising, expansion, and other growth activities. As such, when an academic tries to connect with underserved communities, there is little support inside or outside of the academic community even though mission statements profess to support such activities. Further, there is an unspoken dynamic at play.  Universities are built upon power structures and hierarchical relationships among their mem-

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bers. Deans, for example, outweigh full professors, who outweigh associate professors, and so on.  However noble their goals are, academics unconsciously mimic this structure when they go out into underserved communities. Unfortunately, a traditional, albeit well intentioned, scholar’s approach toward helping often replicates the disempowerment that many underserved and minority community members regularly encounter. This creates distrust between university and community members and impedes positive social change. The traditional model of helping involves intervention from the position of an expert: identifying individual deficits and using remedial interventions to reduce maladaptive behavior. From this privileged perspective, the “expert” expects the “client” to comply with a treatment regime presented by the expert (Prilleltensky & Nelson, 2010). The expert model may be effective for individuals living in privileged communities due to their shared worldview and experience. However, using a model designed for the privileged with the oppressed and expecting it to work, without listening to the lived experience and needs of a community, will be ineffective, as it reenacts cycles of oppression. We need a new model of helping underserved and minority communities that embraces the ecological context and determines strategies that would honor the needs of the group. Such a model of community intervention must be strength- and prevention-based to promote holistic wellness. At every level of engagement, the “client/community” should be actively involved in identifying their needs and determining strategies for achieving community goals. In essence, we propose a model that emphasizes partnerships between engaged scholars and community partners built on trust, empowerment, and support.

Brief Description This book explores how we approached the issue of community development in the context of competing interests and a differential power imbalance. We used a process-based model for supporting community transformation, a phenomenon in which university–community partnership is but one example. We describe a multi-year community collaboration between a university and an early learning center located in the Northeastern region of the United States (Austin & Harkins, 2006; Doppler, Harkins & Mehta, 2008; Ronayne, Harkins, Austin, & Sharicz, 2010). Initiated by the ED, we sought to reduce the violence that was occurring between young children in this low-income community. However, success of any consulting engagement or desire to bring about organizational change rests with discovering the criti-

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cal point at which to improve the health of the system (Senge, 1990). During the course of working with teachers, it became apparent that the community director team was the critical leverage point. Campus partners met regularly with the community director team, which comprised the ED and the directors of each program. Work continued with the entire community and included surveying the organization at several points in time with a variety of systemic measures (Austin & Harkins, 2007). Although there is much to learn from these interventions, the most important lessons inform the building and sustaining of university–community collaborations. For such partnerships to be effective, exploration and understanding of organizational dynamics serve as the key for shaping, implementing, and most importantly sustaining the desired community change.

Theory and Approach Three compatible frameworks in the literatures of change management, social psychology, and community psychology guided our approach, both in intervening and in analyzing the research process and outcomes. First, we were aware of the risks inherent in our role as campus partners and the potentially disempowering effects of imposing a model for change from a position of privilege. In order to reduce these effects, we relied upon an action-based model (Schein, 1999, 2009) in order to engage the community in the work of identifying the problem and co-creating solutions. Second, we consciously adopted the roles of campus partners and tried, wherever possible, to encourage center employees to work with us in the research process (Argyris & Schon, 1996). In practical terms, this meant that we directed our efforts at those issues identified by the community as being most important and in need of improvement. Third, recent empirical work demonstrates that even under the most promising conditions, an organization’s capacity to learn can be stymied without sufficient internal and external support. While our approach was informed by these three frameworks, our methodology focused on the development of training and other onsite interventions that closely aligned with what teachers and administrators said they wanted: better communication, more respect and understanding from everyone, less conflict, and greater support (especially from “higher-ups”). We tried to help the community to define the “problem” and devise solutions, and we wanted to mitigate the disempowering effects of imposing our own bureaucratic notions. Our approach to working with this early learning center was reflective of our sociopolitical and pedagogical philosophy of community research and engagement. Our community action project team utilized a qualitative,

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action-based, and empowering methodology. Our professional perspective draws on work from Paulo Freire, Kurt Lewin, Isaac Prilleltensky, Peter Senge, and Edgar Schein. A participant-centered approach such as the one that we employed honors traditionally silenced voices in education.

Method We gathered qualitative and quantitative data from interviews, focus groups, and observations in order to understand and support this community in their goals and mission. Throughout this book, we critically examine the successes and failures of this university–community collaboration from which others can learn. Analysis of organizational climate, leadership, resistance to change, and power from the perspectives of both partners, as well as the questioning of whether transformation had actually occurred, provides important consulting and community service lessons.

The Plan of This Book The book describes the theory, method, and lessons learned through university–community collaboration. Part I includes two chapters: Chapter 1 describes how engaged scholars integrate teaching, research, and service through community engagement. Chapter 2 introduces the systems view for learning communities. Using a process-oriented approach, we begin with several assumptions regarding campus and community partner responsibilities to which each party should adhere throughout the engagement. Part II includes two chapters: Chapter 3 reviews the civic engagement literature with special emphasis on service learning—a 20-year nationwide movement for students in higher education to learn and serve communities in need. Chapter 4 describes the historical and methodological context of the campus–community collaboration beginning with the state of early childhood education in the northeast region of the United States. We chart the social and economic dynamics of this historically disadvantaged community. In addition, we explore how such history affected the development of the project into two distinct phases and the action method used throughout. In addition, we review the measures used throughout this community-based project including needs assessments, conflict resolution training, team building training, data gathering, data analysis, and postintervention analysis. Part III includes lessons learned through this university–community collaboration. Using community member anecdotes, Chapter 5 illustrates what we learned regarding conflict-resolution training intervention with

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teachers and parents. Chapter 6 recounts lessons from our two-year teambuilding intervention with the executive team, employing anecdotes reflective of team status at the beginning and end of team intervention. Chapter 7 reveals significant lessons of power and privilege that we attempted to address and where we sometimes failed. In Chapter 8, university students critically reflect on the impact that participation in this community service had on their current and future professional and civic lives. Chapter 9 represents the voice of our partner Sarah, the ED of the early learning center. Sarah describes the lessons and challenges of university–community partnerships from the community partner perspective. The concluding chapter provides final critical reflections on what we view as the key components for a strong, effective and sustainable partnership.

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Pa r t

I

Engaged Scholarship: An Overview

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1 Framing the Issue Integrating Teaching, Research and Service If universities wish to address the many wrongs and injustices of society, they might begin by seeking ways to help their students become more thoughtful and perceptive about these problems. —Derek Bok

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ow does the current crisis in higher education relate to university– community collaborations? In this chapter, we frame the issue of university mission within the broader history of higher education, government, and community needs. This history illuminates the role engaged scholarship can play in the revitalization of higher education. The modern crisis in higher education cannot be underestimated. Many academic leaders lament a perceived loss of mission and purpose (Delbanco, 2012; Faust, 2009; Ferrall, 2011; Kolodny, 1998; Lewis, 2007; Postman, 1995). Complaints abound (DeMillio, 2011; Hacker, 2012; Hersch, Merrow, & Wolff, 2006; Kamenetz, 2010; Schrecker, 2010) revolving around a hollowness in higher education, the corporatization of the university, educators “teaching to the test,” and faculty working in depart-

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mental silos. Agreement exists among many academic leaders that higher education lacks direction and clarity regarding the purpose or meaning of information disseminated. As New York University Communication Chair, Neil Postman (1995), in The End of Education, aptly puts it, no underlying “narrative” exists to inspire students, faculty, and others in the university. With dropout rates hovering in the 40–50% range across the U.S., higher education has recently been dubbed a “failure factory.” Mark Schneider, economist and vice president of American Institute for Research, estimated that the more than 400 four-year institutions that graduate less than one third of their students cost the government and families about $770 million in federal grant aid and lost tuition. How much longer, Schneider asks, can the country deal with such poor performance (Schneider, 2009)? Even more disturbing, U.S. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan estimates that three out of four low-income college students fail to graduate within six years (Duncan, 2009). Public universities across the U.S. fare worse than private ones, with only 33–44% of freshmen graduating after six years. Duncan argues that when colleges fail to educate their students and fail to give them the opportunity to grow and learn, they fail in their mission. Overall, these statistics suggest that contemporary higher education deserves a failing grade. How did this crisis emerge? Delbanco (2012), Kronman (2007) and Hacker (2012) put much of the blame on tectonic shifts in higher education. These shifts include (1) the impact of economic instability, (2) the revolution in information technology, (3) globalization, (4) individual consumerism, (5) students overworked with little time to learn, and (6) most critical of all, argues Columbia University American literature professor Andrew Delbanco, little to no consensus on what students need to know. As University of California–Berkeley anthropologist, Nancy Scheper, in The Crisis of the Public University, wrote; “Against the backdrop of a deep recession, a failing war in Afghanistan, stalled efforts to overhaul American health care, the sudden appearance of the ‘new’ working-class poor in shelters and food kitchens, why should anyone give a hoot about a crisis in public higher education?” (Scheper, 2011). How did we get to this crisis in higher education, and how does it relate to university–community collaborations? To answer this question, we need to examine the original purpose of higher education.

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Brief History of Higher Education What was higher education’s original mission? As Lewis (2012), Kronan (2008), and DeMillio (2011) point out, the first higher education institutions in the U.S.—beginning with Harvard College in 1630—had two major interrelated goals: to advance knowledge and to serve society. Interestingly, these two goals are still part of the written mission of Harvard College: The support the College provides to students is a foundation upon which self-reliance and habits of lifelong learning are built: Harvard expects that the scholarship and collegiality it fosters in its students will lead them in their later lives to advance knowledge, to promote understanding, and to serve society. (Harvard College Dean Harry Lewis, 1993)

Evidence of the pivotal role that higher education plays in building civic responsibility among students exists in the early writings of many American luminaries, including Benjamin Franklin, who brought many ideas about education from Europe to the colonies. In the mid 1700s, he argued, “An investment in knowledge pays the best interest.” Many of these leaders contended that informed, responsible participation in public service strengthens the democracy of a nation, and that higher education in particular would benefit the nation by fostering civic engagement and connecting with public service. The mission of advancing knowledge to serve society articulated in various forms in early American colleges and universities led to major governmental investments in higher education in the mid 1800s. The trend began in 1862 with Lincoln’s signing of the First Morrill Act, which provided 30,000 acres of land grants to every U.S. state for building colleges for the “industrial classes.” Subsequently, the Second Morrill Act of 1890 provided further funding to establish 16 Black colleges in the South. Prior to the signing of the Morill Acts, less than 2% of Americans received a twelfth grade education (Maurrasse, 2001). John Henry Newman, an Oxford academic and priest in the Church of England, wrote of Jonathan Turner from Illinois, who spearheaded the first land-grant act: Turner’s plan was influenced and guided by Jeffersonian ideals. He sought to develop young people’s reasoning faculties, enlarge their minds, and cultivate their morals so that commerce, agriculture, and manufacturing could

6    Beyond the Campus prosper to the benefit of every American. Education was truly in the public interest. The plan included three basic goals:   1. To establish colleges that would be open at minimum cost, to laborers in agriculture, commerce, and the arts who needed educational assistance.   2. To develop curricula that would include instruction in practical and vocational subjects for the benefit of the working class.   3. To endow these colleges by grants of land from the enormous holdings of the federal government. (Newman, 1996, p. xv)

In the twentieth century, the 1914 Smith-Lever Act provided 50% of the resources used by higher education to assist communities by disseminating instruction and demonstration of home economics and agriculture. The Merrill land grants and the Smith-Lever Act served to increase U.S. food production. These federal acts together reveal the intimate relationship between higher education and civic engagement. Government support continued with the following: ◾◾ GI Bill in 1944, which provided funding to veterans for higher education ◾◾ National Science Foundation in 1950, which supported science based research and practice ◾◾ National Defense Education Act in 1958, which aimed at building partnerships between the federal government and schools ◾◾ The Higher Education Act in 1963, signed by John F. Kennedy, recognized federal responsibility for the support of colleges and universities. Modern public subsidies received by higher education include tax relief (exemptions for gifts and bequests) and government grants for student financial aid and research. Clearly, the federal government perceives higher education as well worth the investment. Despite the extensive and long history of government support for higher education, a major disconnect exists for many between higher education and societal needs (Maurrasse, 2001), particularly for the disadvantaged and poor. Pushes for higher education’s role in civic engagement continued in 1920 with John Dewey, the father of modern education. Along with Dewey, University of Chicago president William Rainey Harper advocated strongly for a civic-minded framework in higher education, stating that “universities are the prophets of democracy” (Bensen & Haravy, 2000). Uniquely situated, urban universities like University of Chicago could meet the needs of

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their local communities. Dewey argued that such a model of higher education should be comprised of three components: 1. Engaging students in their surrounding community 2. Focusing on solving problems across disciplines 3. Building collaboration between faculty and students to reach this goal. In 1982, former president of Harvard University Derek Bok, in his book Beyond the Ivory Tower: Social Responsibilities of the Modern University, addressed the deep apathy toward contemporary civic engagement contemporarily present within universities and among college students across the country. How, Bok asks, are universities going to meet the triadic mission of teaching, research, and service? Although colleges and universities have a long history and a mission oriented toward civic duty, he argued, there is a deeply felt disconnect from this purpose and responsibility. The refrain of lost purpose and meaning continues to reverberate from prominent contemporary educators. Most recently, Harry Lewis, former dean of Harvard College, in his 2007 book Excellence Without a Soul, argued that the great universities are floundering in excellence. Similarly, Drew Gilpin Faust, current president of Harvard University, in The University’s Crisis of Purpose asserts, “Human beings need meaning, understanding and perspective as well as jobs. The question should not be whether we can afford to believe in such purposes in these times, but whether we can afford not to” (2009). In addition, Anthony Kronman, Yale Law School dean, claims in his book Education’s End that higher education no longer answers the most important and pivotal questions for young adults such as “What is life for”—or, more intimately, “What is my role and purpose in life?”

Reclaiming Mission and Purpose Governmental and academic concern grew from these early clarion calls of lost university mission and led to several Presidential acts, including the 1990 National Community Act passed by George H.W. Bush. Similarly, within academic corridors, academic leaders began to take action. Campus Compact was formed in 1985 by 56 college and university presidents who were distressed by student, faculty, and university civic apathy. The Compact focuses on promoting requisite community service as part of the college curriculum. Written, agreed upon, and signed in 1999, the Campus Compact mission of higher education begins:

8    Beyond the Campus Colleges and universities have long embraced a mission to educate students for citizenship. But now, with over two-thirds of recent high school graduates, and ever larger number of adults, enrolling in post secondary studies, higher education has an unprecedented opportunity to influence the democratic knowledge, dispositions, and habits of the heart that graduates [of colleges] carry with them into the public square.

Similarly, federal executive orders further attempted to reinvigorate universities, including the creation of the Corporation for National and Community Service Trust by Bill Clinton in 1993. This order was directly responsible for the AmeriCorps and the Learn and Serve programs. Most recently, in 2009, Barack Obama declared a National Service Day. More general federal support for higher education was initiated with the establishment of the U.S. Department of Education in 1979: “The Congress declares . . . [that the] Department of Education [DOE] . . . will promote the general welfare of the United States . . .” (U.S. Department of Health, Education, & Welfare, 1979, p. 5). Continuing more recently, Secretary of Education Arne Duncan (2010) supported the DOE by reminding universities that their dual mission is “to teach and prepare students for life.” This dual mission stated by Ernest Boyer, former U.S. Commissioner of Education and President of the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, in his 1990 book Scholarship Reconsidered, redefined scholarly work as using rich university resources to address crucial community and social problems. Boyer poses the following questions to academics: “How can knowledge be responsibly applied to consequential problems? How can it be helpful to individuals and institutions? Can social problems themselves define an agenda for scholarly investigation?” (Boyer, 1990, p. 21). Boyer strongly argued in favor of higher education’s return to its roots of teaching students to be fully engaged and socially responsible citizens. Unfortunately, returning to a mission of civic engagement has been overshadowed by an extreme American emphasis on the pursuit of individual rather than community goals (Bellah, Madsen, Sullivan, Swidler, & Tipton, 1991; Putnam, 1995). As Harry Boyte, head of the Center for Democracy and Citizenship, and Elisabeth Hollander, senior fellow at College of Citizenship and Public Service at Tufts University, assert, “whereas [a] university [was] once centrally concerned with ‘education for democracy’ and ‘knowledge for society’ . . . [t]oday’s society [has] often drifted away from [its] civic mission.” (Boyte & Hollander, 1999, p. 7) The consequences can be observed in a lack of trust in any authority (e.g., religious, social, or political leaders) and a reduced sense of caring for others, community, or the common good. Personal advancement and gratification have diminished

Framing the Issue    9

the sense of moral ethics, civic responsibilities, and spiritual wellbeing of our communities. Although this individual accomplishment is admirable, it contrasts with a commitment toward shared benefits. An increased sense of apathy, distrust, and lack of moral commitment towards fellow citizens in our society runs rampant. Higher education must realize its potential to revive moral values, mutual respect, and civic responsibilities, while educating young adults to become civically engaged citizens (Bellah et al., 1992; Bok, 1982; Boyer, 1990; 1994; Boyte & Hollander, 1999; Colby, Ehrlich, Beaumont, & Stephens, 2003; Gibson, 2006; Jacoby & Associates, 2009; Morrill, 1982). Globalization and current social problems make the need for clear mission and action even greater. Global interdependence has increased. Old social problems continue to exist, while new problems surge. The increased diversity of racial and ethnic groups has added more complexity to this issue. Thus, contemporary college students must be adequately equipped with knowledge, skills, and ethical responsibilities for living in a global society. Furthermore, the central goals of college education must focus on strengthening students’ intellectual competence, technical skills, and civic responsibility. Young adults need to have wise and broad perspectives on domains of community service. It is critical that the next generation understand their role and the consequences of their individual actions on society. Developing this understanding goes beyond occupational skills. In this way, we can view true education as requiring the development of skills to promote community, society, and national well-being. (Bensen & Harkavy, 2000; Colby et al., 2003; Delbanco, 2012; Kronman, 2008; Lewis, 2007; Maurrasse, 2001; Palmer & Zajonc, 2010). Former president of Jackson State University, Ron Mason, cogently argues that students must not only be prepared to help their communities but also that higher education must engage in community partnerships for the institutions own “self-preservation.” Higher education institutions often located in or near underserved communities and stakeholders of higher education including parents, students and employers want students to have relevant experiences connected to daily social issues. The reality of higher education and its purpose must return to its roots of integrating research, practice and service to the community at large. Contemporary colleges and universities are doing a decent job of imparting important professional knowledge and skills (Boyer, 1987; Boyte & Hollander, 1999; Jacoby & Associates, 2009; Palmer & Zajonc, 2010). In their 2010 book The Heart of Higher Education, Parker Palmer, former senior associate of the American Association of Higher Education, and Arthur Zajonc, physics professor at Amherst College, passionately argue that high-

10    Beyond the Campus

er education is missing an integrated approach to train students in both knowledge and service. Higher education needs a multidimensional scope for students to reach their full potential by openly exploring their purpose in life, requiring a curriculum that goes beyond just cultivating academic and research excellence. Palmer and Zajonc (2010) argue that we currently teach only half of the curriculum of higher education. We have lost the central meaning of educating students to learn about themselves so they can determine their roles in building a better society. Curricula focused on fragmentation and objectivity alone have failed to recognize other key components in learning and living, such as relationship building and the dynamic interaction between self and others. Palmer and Zajonc (2010) claim that the central tasks of teaching include challenging ontological views of self, illuminating lingering distortions of the myth of objectivism, and revealing one’s role and purpose in society as well as one’s ability to give back. They further propose that learning in a community context is the dimension of reality leading to the highest transformation of purpose and realization of goals in life. Questioning the goals and purpose of higher education, Ernest Boyer, former Chancellor of State University of New York and President of Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, wrote: Throughout our study we were impressed that what today’s college is teaching most successfully is competence—competence in meeting schedules, in gathering information, in responding well on tests, in mastering the details of a special field. . . .  But technical skill, of whatever kind, leaves open essential questions: Education for what purpose? Competence to what end? At a time in life when values should be shaped and personal priorities sharply probed, what a tragedy it would be if the most deeply felt issues, the most haunting questions, the most creative moments were pushed to the fringes of our institutional life. What a monumental mistake it would be if students, during the undergraduate years, remained trapped within the organizational grooves and narrow routines to which the academic world sometimes seems excessively devoted. (Boyer, 1987, p. 283)

Engaged Scholars Intelligence plus character—that is the goal of true education. —Martin Luther King, Jr.

Faculty members play a crucial role in bringing the meaning and purpose of learning back to higher education. By educating students in professional

Framing the Issue    11

skills, civic responsibilities, and community health through multiple venues including content, self-reflection, critical inquiry, service learning, and serving as role models, faculty can save the university. As Derek Bok passionately asserts, “There is no reason for [a] university to feel uncomfortable in taking account of society’s needs; in fact, they have a clear obligation to do so.” Civic education cannot flourish if one privileges intellect over morality and action. Many educational leaders fervently claim that the time has come for universities to re-embrace all sides of their public mission (Bok, 1982, 2003; Boyer, 1990; Delbanco, 2012; Faust, 2009; Hatcher, 2012; Hersch et al., 2006; Kolodny, 1998; Kronman, 2008; Lewis, 2007; Palmer & Zajonc, 2010; Postman, 1995; Taylor, 2010). Similarly, in his 1999 book, Academic Duty, Donald Kennedy, former president of Stanford University, calls for a return to personal, academic and institutional responsibility. From higher education’s inception, a deep bind was forged between education, government and industry. As such, higher education has a social and academic duty to give back to society. Anderson strongly asserts that higher education’s fervor for academic freedom must be matched with its equally powerful counterpart, academic duty. This is echoed in Thomas Ehrlich’s co-authored book Educating Citizens (Colby et al., 2003), which states that educational institutions need to have clear moral values and include educators who recognize the power of building a curriculum to transmit those moral values. Similarly, Anne Colby, senior fellow at the Carnegie Foundation, asserts that faculty must portray themselves as role models for students by modeling honesty, integrity, care, and commitment to their students, their community, and the larger society. With individualism and materialism as the driving forces behind the structure of our current educational system, we need to remind ourselves and students that we are part of society. Another clarion call comes from Barbara Jacoby, senior scholar at the University of Maryland, in her 2009 book, Civic Engagement in Higher Education, where she points out how the phrase “personal and social responsibility” provides the broader language of global learning, U.S. diversity, and civic engagement. Such learning, Jacoby argues, includes faculty efforts to explain to students the interconnected web of relation between self, community, and culture. As engaged scholars, we are educating our future citizens with the core values of intellectual integrity, concern for truth, academic freedom, mutual respect, open-mindedness, listening, procedural fairness, advocacy, and public discussion of contested issues. Educators must shape their teaching pedagogy to infuse these values into the curriculum ensuring transmission to students. Faculty engagement in the community beyond campus is crucial to becoming a role model that imparts these values (Anderson, 1999;

12    Beyond the Campus

Bringle, Clayton, & Price, 2009; Bringle & Hatcher, 2002; Clayton, Bringle, Senor, Huq, & Morrison, 2010; Colby et al., 2003; Ehrlich, & Colby, 2003; Jacoby, & Associates, 2009; Janke, 2009; Kennedy, 1997; Wade & Demb, 2009; Zlotkowski, 2005). Education either functions as an instrument which is used to facilitate integration of the younger generation into the logic of the present system and bring about conformity or it becomes the practice of freedom, the means by which men and women deal critically and creatively with reality and discover how to participate in the transformation of their world. (Freire, 1981)

Civic engagement provides an integrative, holistic, and systematic approach for educating students while meeting higher education’s mission of social responsibility. This integrative approach to learning unabashedly combines values, knowledge, and critical reflection while students engage with communities in need (Senge, 1990; Senge, Cambron-McCabe, Lucas, Smith, Dutton, & Kleiner, 2000). A pedagogy of civic engagement promotes integrating community service with academic study and structured critical reflection. In this way, civic engagement facilitates the purpose or goal of higher education to a mission of learning through community service. The university–community partnership presented in this book reflects our attempt to integrate civic engagement into academic learning.

2 Collaboration A Systems View for Learning Communities . . . We can be fully human only in dialogue, in naming the world together. To do so requires humility, honesty, and openness. It’s not my world or yours that’s true, but our world that we discover/create together. —Robert Kull (2008, p.112), referencing Paulo Freire

E

very organization is comprised of dynamics, including interpersonal dynamics between people or teams. Inherent in those dynamics are processes that either keep the organization in a status quo situation or help it to grow and evolve. These processes occur within and between three different levels: the individual, the team, and the organizational. Crossan, Lane, and White (1999) identified four learning processes that operate through these three levels. These four processes are referred to as: (1) Intuiting; (2) Interpreting; (3) Integrating; and (4) Institutionalizing. These four processes are referred to as the 4I framework of organizational learning. The intuiting process emanates from the individual level and institutionalizing occurs at the organizational level. The interpreting process bridges the individual and group levels, while integrating links the group and the organizational levels.

Beyond the Campus, pages 13–27 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

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14    Beyond the Campus

This chapter provides a theoretical framework with which to understand the learning dynamics as they unfolded with our community partner. The creation of the engaged scholarship approach at the Learning Center emanated from the vision of the executive director (ED). Theory and research will be provided to elaborate the key practices and processes that set in motion the learning dynamics of this organization. Those key practices and processes include vision, systems theory, collaboration, and learning communities. An overall systems view of learning communities will be illustrated. Interspersed throughout this chapter will be concrete examples of application of the systems view. Lessons learned and best practices for building a learning community from a systems view will be provided. As individuals come up with ideas and insights, there is usually a need to share those ideas and insights with the next level of the organization, which is often a group or team. The primary means for this sharing is through dialogue or conversation. Of course, the mere act of sharing does not immediately guarantee the idea’s success. However, what is important is that the idea or insight begins to germinate in the consciousness of a wider population. Over time, this vision is shared with wider and wider groups within an organization, until there is shared meaning and acceptance. As an idea, insight, or vision starts to gain traction in an organization, it starts to become embedded or integrated into the routines, rules, and norms of the organizational culture. As Crossan et al. (1999) emphasize, “Whereas the focus of interpreting is change in the individual’s understanding and actions, the focus of integrating is coherent, collective action” (p. 528). Institutionalization is a means for organizations to leverage the learning acquired by individuals and groups (p. 529). As Crossan, Lane, and White (1999) describe the fourth I, institutionalizing, “This learning becomes embedded in the organization and begins to guide the actions and learning of organizational members” (p. 529). A summary of the 4-I processes at each level in an organization is depicted in Table 2.1. Table 2.1  Learning Processes in an Organization Level

Process

Individual

Intuiting (ideas, insights, vision) Interpreting (language, conversation, dialogue) Integrating (shared understandings) Institutionalizing (routines, systems, rules, procedures)

Team/Group Organization

Source: Crossan, Lane & White (1999)

Collaboration    15

The dynamic that was set in motion in the project described here emanated from the leadership of the center. One could look at this process as originating at the individual level, from the leadership of the ED. It was her vision, values, and ideas that set in motion a process of building an engaging learning community.

Igniting the Process: Leadership One significant dynamic in any organization encompasses how people interact with each other, how the work is done, the power distribution in that organization, the leadership, and the vision that leadership embodies. Many organizations subscribe to the “top-down” leadership model, whereby decisions flow down the hierarchy to the different levels, referred to as “transactional leadership,” originally conceptualized by James McGregor Burns in 1978 (as cited in Burke, 2011). As Burke (2011) relates, “Transactional leaders are more interested in maintaining the status quo” (p. 216). Inherent in this structure is a power differential. In addition, invariably, people at “the bottom” very rarely have the opportunity to interact with senior leadership. Therefore, those at the top may lack a realistic understanding of how the organization is actually functioning. Communication in a top-down model also has the tendency to be haphazard, as each level in the organization interprets the directives according to their own lens, rather than going through an integrating process (Crossan et al., 1999) that develops a shared understanding throughout an organization. At the Center, the ED wanted to adopt a shared leadership style, whereby decisions would be more inclusive and shared by all key members of the center. This kind of style invites all affected stakeholders to participate in the decision-making process, including parents, teachers, and staff. An egalitarian style has ramifications throughout the system. When a leader truly believes that the voices of others should be included, it sets in motion an underlying respect for those voices and an inclusion in the process that affects those involved. In other words, actors in the system are able to voice their input into how things run and the types of changes needed. This can be very empowering. These two different leadership styles set in motion very distinct dynamics in an organization. The shared leadership style was a cornerstone of the vision that the ED had for the center. Senge (2006) states, “When there is a genuine vision (as opposed to the all-too-familiar ‘vision statement’) people excel and learn, not because they are told to, but because they want to” (p. 9). Having everyone in the organization embrace a vision, and, in particular, the vision of shared leadership, is a process in itself. As noted by Senge, “The practice of shared

16    Beyond the Campus

vision . . . fosters genuine commitment and enrollment rather than compliance” (2006, p. 9). Having a shared vision has also been described as “the binding component and catalyst, which, along with effective leadership, can guide an organization through change” (Thomas & Allen, 2006, p. 129). There are challenges to the practice of shared vision. One challenge is to ensure that employees have access to the knowledge that is crucial for supporting and sustaining organizational visions for success (Thomas & Allen, 2006, p. 124). As part of her vision of shared leadership, the ED addressed the needs for developing the skills that are necessary for employees in this center. These skills would—over time—result in a workforce that was more empowered and accountable. At the organizational level, these skills, routines, and practices would become institutionalized.

Viewing the Systems Level A system is an interconnected set of elements that is coherently organized in a way that achieves something (Meadows, 2008). A system is made up of those elements and interconnections, has a function or purpose (Meadows, 2008). A systems view in any organization allows one to see the interconnections in any given situation. A system’s function or purpose is not necessarily spoken, written, or expressed explicitly, except through the operation or the behavior of the system (Meadows, 2008). The genesis of this system behavior lies in the mental models, including the vision, of leadership. These mental models and respective visions set in motion the processes that create the organizational structures (Kim, 1996). Organizational structures encompass the culture, practices, procedures, and policies in an organization. This interconnection is depicted in Table 2.2. Table 2.2  Link between Mental Models (and Vision) and System Structure Level of Understanding:

Action Mode:

Mental Models (including Vision)

Generative

  Systemic Structure

Creative

Source: D. Kim, 1996, p. 6; partial representation of model that focuses solely on these two levels of understanding

Collaboration    17

Senge (2006) describes systems thinking as “seeing the structures that underlie complex situations” (p. 69). It involves a “shift of mind from seeing parts to seeing wholes, from seeing people as helpless reactors to seeing them as active participants in shaping their reality, from reacting to the present to creating the future” (Senge, 2006, p. 69). Meadows (2008) shares a phrase in thinking about systems: “Listen to the wisdom of the system” (p. 178). This idea encourages leaders to start with a focus on the behavior of the system (Meadows, 2008). Beginning work with the behavior of the system focuses one’s attention on the dynamics that are inherent in that system (Meadows, 2008). Specifically, Meadows suggests that “it helps leaders to ask questions such as, ‘Where are we going? Where do we want to go as an organization? What are the strengths of this system/organization?’” (2008, p. 171). These are the questions that the ED of the center asked of herself and her center. That “wisdom of the system” encompasses a shift in focus to considering the wholeness of the organization and away from merely looking at fragments.

The “Big Picture” Developmental View of Organizations When an organization sets in motion the fundamental values of involvement, shared leadership, and respecting others’ voices, there are deep, fundamental, systemic shifts that begin to shape the entire organization and how it operates. One of these shifts involves taking a “big picture” developmental view of the interactions and relationships in the organization rather than the fragmented, functional view that is highly prevalent in the vast majority of organizations (Senge, 2006). This “big picture” perspective has the advantage of looking at the organization from a higher vantage point, to view the interrelationships and how the organization is connected. For example, Figure 2.1 presents an illustration of the organization from that wider lens. A description of the key elements will be discussed.

To Read This “Big Picture” Developmental View 1. There is a desire to be a high performing organization (important research findings on this point will be discussed below). 2. That desire is driven by the need to put into practice a shared leadership style. 3. Shared leadership is dependent upon developing the skills and competencies at all levels. In this center one core competency was developing conflict resolution skills.

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4. Having the baseline competencies above implemented and supported will set in motion autonomy, empowerment, and accountability. 5. This will lead to building capacity in the organization. 6. This will lead to having an organization that has sustainable practices. 7. This will feed back into having a high-performing organization. 8. The “cloud” in the picture represents those forces from outside the organization that can and do influence what goes on inside an organization. Such forces can include stakeholders (i.e., parents), laws or regulations, expectations (from the community), and other outside influences Adopting this kind of an orientation, which is strategic in nature, has powerful outcomes for the entire organization, as can be seen in Figure 2.1. Having the core competencies of shared leadership and developing the skills that are necessary in this Center (in this case, developing the fundamental skills in conflict resolution), will—over time—result in a workforce that is more empowered and accountable.

Stakeholders, Regulations, Expectations, Other Influences 2

3 Shared Leadership

Skills (Conflict Resolution) and Competencies

(Start)

1

4

High Performance Organization

6

Sustainable Practices

5

Autonomy, Empowerment, Accountability

Capacity Building

Figure 2.1  Big picture developmental view of organization. Source: Sharicz (2010).

Collaboration    19

Empirical evidence by Lewin, Lippitt, and White (as cited by Bess & Dee, 2012) has indicated that “some type of control structure may be necessary to ensure high performance” (p. 845). A significant and relevant finding related to high performance was that “leaving groups to themselves without leaders (a laissez-faire leadership style) was not as effective as providing some leadership . . . workers need and appreciate some leadership” (Lewin, Lippitt, & White, as cited by Bess & Dee, 2012, p. 845). The dynamic illustrated above will enhance capacity in the organization because everyone will feel valued and will be able to contribute to the sustainability of the program. These values and competencies become deeply embedded over the long term. The alternative to this kind of deep, systemic dynamic is continued fragmentation in the organization, which does not tap into any inherent growth potential.

From Fragmentation to Wholeness Because of the many pressures and stresses faced by organizations today, the tendency to want to solve a problem as quickly as possible and move on is a common and a natural response mechanism. Many times, individual departments will look at a problem from their own perspective and simply “solve” it, without consideration of the effects of the solution on others. This kind of a response, in its essence, encourages fragmentation. Figure 2.2 represents the “Fixes that Fail” phenomenon (Senge, 2006, p. 399). The diagram illustrates how any department that just looks at problems from its own perspective in order to solve them with expediency, without considering those who are affected, will always encounter unintended consequences that will come back to haunt the organization over time.

Problem

Quick fix

Unintended consequences

Figure 2.2  Fixes that fail systems diagram. Source: Senge, 2006, p. 399

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To read the diagram in Figure 2.2, the following narrative will be helpful: 1. There is a problem (in a department or in the organization). 2. Due to the perceived need to solve the problem quickly, a “quick fix” is applied to the problem. This “quick fix” is usually a solution that is employed only for the sake of expedience; it is usually not the thoughtful, considered decision that should be made. 3. Whenever a quick fix is applied to any problem or issue, there will always be side effects, or unintended consequences. Over time, these unintended consequences will reappear and overshadow the initial problem. In the center, the ED, in partnership with the researcher-consultants, possessed the core belief and value of wanting to incorporate the voices of the whole community, which included parents, teachers, and administrators. Their efforts “were directed at those issues identified by the community as being important and needing improvement” (Austin Stringer, 2007, p. 16). It also meant that the manner of intervention “was determined by what administrators and teachers said they wanted” (Austin Stringer, 2007, p. 16). The researcher-consultants “sought to create a more positive work environment by focusing on those aspects [of organizational learning] most closely aligned with what we heard from the community, as well as developing more productive leadership and management practices.”1 Having a systems orientation when approaching any organization represents a major shift from intervention, as a quick fix, to a consultation, which involves partnership and is inclusive of key stakeholders. When one has this latter orientation, the fundamental dynamics or aspects of an organization are considered and included in analysis. Addressing and incorporating the fundamental components of an issue or problem does truly help to address problems for the long term, without the organization being derailed by the unintended consequences discussed above. The dynamic (Senge, 2006) can be seen in Figure 2.3. Meadows (2008) suggests identifying what the elements in the system are and how they might be interconnected. In Figure 2.3, we start with the problem. When the community is able to talk about systemic, fundamental solutions—as opposed to just quick fixes—the problem diminishes over time. Another inherent underpinning of dealing with problems is how the involved parties deal with conflict, which is a major theoretical construct that will be discussed in later chapters in this book. Conflict resolution was a key skill targeted for development in the center. Our focus here will be on the linkage between conflict resolution and systems thinking. Recent

Collaboration    21

Problem Over time diminish problem Fundamental solution

Figure 2.3  Relationship of problem to fundamental solution. Source: Senge, 2006, pp. 391–392

research (Li, Zhu, & Gerard, 2012) explores the connection between conflict resolution and systems thinking. Li et al. (2012) referenced an early advocate, Mary Parker Follett, for using conflict positively to manage organizations. Three main points that Li and colleagues (2012) attribute to Follett in dealing with conflict that link directly to key attributes of systems thinking include: 1. Enabling both short-term joint gain and long-term fairness 2. “Breaking up the wholes” in uncovering the conflict (which would include seeing the interconnections in the conflict) 3. Having a creative settlement beyond “either-or” situations Another significant linkage of conflict management to systems thinking is to refer to the “structures and the values supporting those structures” that facilitate processing conflict in an organization (Conbere, 2001, as cited by Li et al., 2012, p. 212). The key methodologies would be to “foster dialogue, reflection and learning” about the issues in order to enable participants to “reach shared understanding and joint agreements” (Shaw et al., 2006, as cited in Li et al., 2012, p. 215). As Li et al. (2012) state, “both conflict resolution and systems thinking take problem solving or conflict resolving as a learning process” that involves “stakeholder commitment, mutual understanding, and joint action” (p. 215). This kind of involvement and orientation from all the stakeholders in the whole community (i.e., parents, administrators, and teachers) in partnership with the researcher-consultants will start to garner strong shared leadership practices and a more involved learning community.

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Relationship of a Systems View to Learning Communities Developing a learning community starts with the vision that leaders have for that learning community. On a very large scale, one dramatic example of a thriving learning community is the country of Finland. Leaders and policymakers in Finland started with the vision of focusing on teacher development and teaching higher-order skills such as problem solving and critical thinking to students as opposed to focusing solely on standardized testing (Darling-Hammond, as cited in Hargreaves & Fullan, 2009, p. 58). The results have been dramatic. Finland ranks number one and two in the world in literacy, mathematics, and science among 15-year-old students, according to the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development Programme for International Student Assessment (as cited by Hargreaves, 2009, p. 22). It also ranks top in economic competitiveness and corporate transparency (Hargreaves, 2009, p. 22). As shared by Darling-Hammond (as cited in Hargreaves & Fullan, 2009): Finland has been a poster child for school improvement since it rapidly climbed to the top of the international rankings after it emerged from the Soviet Union’s shadow. . . .  Teachers are sophisticated diagnosticians, and they work together collegially to design instruction that meets the demands of the subject matter as well as the needs of their students. Finnish schools are not governed by standardized tests, which are absent until the very end of high school, but instead by teachers’ strong knowledge about how students learn, engaged in the context of locally managed, democratically run schools. (pp. 57–58)

Hargreaves (2009) reiterates the importance of vision in this country’s model: “One way Finland achieves its remarkable results is through a bold and inclusive vision that unites and energizes its people” (p. 22). A whole-systems orientation to building learning communities can be seen in Hargreaves’ (2009) theory-in-action entitled “The Fourth Way,” which encompasses what he terms “five pillars of purpose and partnership” (Hargreaves, 2009): ◾◾ Pillar 1: An inspiring and inclusive vision ◾◾ Pillar 2: Public engagement ◾◾ Pillar 3: No achievement without investment (This pillar takes a whole-system perspective by citing high-performing countries that make a strong public investment not just in education, but also in housing, medical care, social services, and community development.)

Collaboration    23

◾◾ Pillar 4: Corporate educational responsibility (having corporate partners in educational policymaking that consider the real needs of schoolchildren, not just having skill training that only benefits the corporations) ◾◾ Pillar 5: Students as partners in change efforts (Students are usually the targets of change; rarely are they change partners). Hargreaves’ (2009, pp.  22–26) five pillars include principles of practice, one of which is building strong collaborative cultures that make up “lively learning communities” (p. 30). Another strong emphasis focuses on a type of leadership that Hargreaves (2009) refers to as “distributed leadership” (p. 34), which is similar to the shared leadership practiced in the center. Hargreaves (2009) characterizes distributed leadership as drawing “change out of staff, rather than driving reforms through them” (p. 35). Part of the process of “drawing change out of the staff” is respecting and incorporating the ideas that are generated by the staff. Reeves’ work (citing Collins, 2001) found that effective leaders were “more likely to let the power of ideas exceed the power of personality” (p. 244). The power of ideas links directly back to the first process in the 4-I processes as espoused by Crossan et al. (1999). Owens (2010) also links systems thinking to learning communities. His synthesis of the research in these two areas includes: ◾◾ Evolution of shared vision, mission, and values ◾◾ Sustained action learning and experimentation ◾◾ Public reflection and the collaborative exploration of mental models ◾◾ Investigation and application of systems thinking ◾◾ Development and diversification of professional practice Owens (2010) reported that the participation and engagement of executive leadership with the ongoing work of teachers was a significant factor in the development of vision and mission in each professional learning community. Owens (2010) also reported that the “aspect of leadership that proved particularly important for the sustainability and development of each [learning] community was a focus by formal school leaders on the development of systems and processes to support teacher learning and collaboration” (pp. 50–51). In addition, Owens (2010) referred to the importance of distributed leadership when he stated, “In each professional learning community, distributed leadership proved to be a crucial factor affecting not

24    Beyond the Campus

only the breadth and depth of work being conducted by teachers, but also the ongoing life and sustainability of the communities themselves” (p. 50). Hargreaves (as cited in Hargreaves & Fullan, 2009) assigns “huge priority to the development of sustainable and distributed leadership that is knowledgeable about learning . . . and—most of all—by developing an inspiring and inclusive educational and societal vision” (pp. 40–41). Hargreaves encapsulates his version of “lively professional communities” (p. 40) in the Fourth Way: The Fourth Way, rather, is a democratic and sustainable path to improvement that builds from the bottom and steers from the top. Through highquality teachers committed to and capable of creating deep and broad teaching and learning, it builds powerful, responsible, and lively professional communities, in a largely self-regulating profession where teachers set high standards and shared targets and improve learning through networks from evidence and with each other. (Hargreaves & Fullan, 2009, p. 40)

Another research study conducted by Richmond and Manokore (2011) utilized a distributed leadership conceptual framework. Their study identified five elements critical for the creation and sustainability of learning communities. These elements brought together the overarching characteristics of collaboration, a systemic perspective, and sustainability in learning communities. These five elements as identified by Richmond and Manokore (2011, pp. 13–23) are: ◾◾ Teacher learning and collaboration—exhibited by the collaborative act of sharing resources that individuals bring to and receive from other learning community members can result in learning ◾◾ Professional community—characterized by participants who share a common vision and who learn from each other ◾◾ Confidence in content knowledge, pedagogical knowledge, and practices—this element involved learning community participants both developing confidence in their knowledge and teaching practices and sharing instructional practices ◾◾ Accountability—this element uncovered two dimensions of accountability: (1) the extent to which participants were accountable to their peers and (2) the impact that district and state accountability measures had on the learning community. This component is similar to the elements that are represented in the clouds in both dynamic representations in Figure 2.1, the Big

Collaboration    25

Picture Developmental View of Organization, and in Figure 2.4 below, the Systems View of Learning Communities. ◾◾ Sustainability—defined as the outcome of both physical and social capital. Sustainability is seen as dependent on how the learning communities view themselves as active members of the community over time. A systems view of learning communities is in Figure 2.4. This systems view of learning communities provides a synthesis from the research of the key elements inherent in the dynamics of learning communities. The leadership, with the two-way arrow, shows the need for networks to contribute to the community and to leadership and to receive guidance, support, communication, and direction through a vision articulated by leadership. The inside of the loop captures the reinforcing cycle of building capacity, which will feed into building sustainability. Community input, shown in the cloud, is a mutually supportive and needed component of the growth of learning communities. Research also suggests that “networks provide the best hope for initiating, implementing, and sustaining change” (Reeves, as cited in Hargreaves & Fullan, 2009, p. 252). The process-oriented, systemic perspective of the leadership was the catalyst for the sustainability of the changes that occurred at the center. Not all of the changes or interventions were positive, as will be discussed in later chapters. The outcomes that resulted from these changes will be discussed below. Leadership: Vision, Guidance Communication, Support

Capacity building

Sustainability

Network of Learning Communities

Figure 2.4  Systems view of learning communities.

Community input—All key stakeholders

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Outcomes with this Process-Oriented, Systemic Perspective Even though there were some incidents that occurred that may be viewed as negative, what needs to be kept in mind is that systemically, changes and shifts were occurring at a deeper organizational level, which had far-reaching ramifications for long-term growth and sustainability. One of the shifts that occurred was evident in how the teachers viewed the initial stages of the project. The teachers referred to the project as the “university project.” However, as time went on, during the last few weeks of the project, several teachers had started to refer to the project as “Project Shared Vision.” This shift in language represented a shift in ownership. Language that is used is indicative of the underlying feelings and level of attachment. If one wants truly to notice what is going on in an organization, one of the most fundamental “tools” that can be employed is to observe what is going on: observe the language that is being used, observe the interactions, and look for patterns in those interactions. Meadows (2008) recommends paying “attention to the triggering events, the outside influences that bring forth one kind of behavior from the system” (p. 179). Paying attention and observing will help all members of an organization to start to understand how that organization is operating in order to make changes. The initial consultation in the center began with the teachers as the initial leverage point for intervention. However, it became apparent that working with and introducing the leadership team to the same skill set as the teachers would provide higher leverage. This level of intervention provides an empirical example of taking a “whole system perspective.” Too often with many organizations, only a select group of employees are trained in or introduced to new practices, and research has shown that such an approach does not “stick” as well when the employees go back to their respective tasks and roles. Requiring that the entire organization undergo the same training and interventions provides everyone with the same opportunity to use the same language and expands everyone’s thinking with similar concepts and practices. A synthesis of best practices going forward will be shared in the following and concluding section.

Guidelines for Best Practices and Effective Action for Learning Communities For any learning community to be effective, having a “big picture perspective” with shared (distributed) leadership will set in motion the dynamics of an empowered, involved organization that can lead to sustainability. Some

Collaboration    27

effective starting points for best practices and effective action in creating learning communities would encompass these actions: 1. Develop a vision for your learning community that honors the mission and history of your organization and is inspiring for future opportunities and inclusiveness. 2. Think about the “structural” dynamics that are in place in your organization. Consider: What is the leadership structure? How are decisions made? What is the pattern of communication and interactions? What do you want to change? 3. Foster dialogue within the learning community in order to spread ideas that are generated and to uncover the challenges that are inherent in any system. 4. Consider who needs to be involved in the learning community—students, parents, administrators, staff, other leaders, extended networks. 5. Discuss what it means to be accountable, responsible, and sustainable.

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Pa r t

II

University–Community Partnership: History and Method

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3 Civic Engagement Learning Through Community Service Education is simply the soul of a society as it passes from one generation to another. —G. K. Chesterton (1910)

H

ow does teaching style relate to civic engagement and university–community collaboration? In this chapter, we explore the role of civic engagement in student learning and university–community partnerships.

Approaches to Learning What does it mean, if anything, to teach students didactically versus actively? According to Paulo Freire (1981), a Brazilian educator, philosopher, and leader for critical pedagogy, it matters a lot and inadvertently reflects ideas of freedom among those with power and those without. We need to educate adults, particularly the oppressed, Freire argues, through methods that allow individuals to regain humanity and liberation. As Freire states, “No pedagogy that is truly liberating can remain distant from the oppressed by treating them as unfortunates and by presenting for their emulation mod-

Beyond the Campus, pages 31–41 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

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els from among the oppressors. The oppressed must be their own example in the struggle for their redemption” (1970, p. 54). Freire continues that a teacher’s method of teaching is a political act and teachers must be willing to reexamine and rethink the how of teaching: [E]ducation makes sense because women and men learn that through learning they can make and remake themselves, because women and men are able to take responsibility for themselves as beings capable of knowing—of knowing that they know and knowing that they don’t and those who authentically commit themselves to the people must re-examine themselves constantly. (Freire, 1981 p. 60)

Hence, traditional learning, described by Freire (1981) as the “banking education” model of learning, perpetuates social inequalities. In this model, the “learner” is devoid of knowledge while the “teacher” fills the learner up with knowledge through a pedagogy of instruction and didactic learning. The wide gap perceived by the “knower” and the “student” in a traditional model of learning assumes that teachers: know, teach, talk, discipline, enforce choices, choose course content, and become the subject of the learning style. In addition, the view of “students” is that they know little, must listen while taught, must comply with enforced rules, must be disciplined by the teacher, must respond to teachers actions, must adapt to teacher’s choice of course content, and must become the object of the learning style (see Table 3.1). In contrast, liberation approaches to learning, first articulated by Freire in his book, Pedagogy of the Oppressed (1981), turn many traditional learning ideas upside down. Based on Freire’s (1981) own attempts to teach poor adults in Brazil to read and write, he provides critical reflections on how teachers can avoid using oppressive pedagogies with their adult students. The goal of a liberation perspective is to prepare students for lives that simultaneously provide individual satisfaction and support the common good. Since the assumption of liberation education is that both teachers and students teach and learn from each other, the pedagogy is more interactive, discussion-based and field-oriented. In this learning model, students and teachers learn together to critically evaluate the historical and contemporary reality of their own and others’ world in order to act upon the world. Civic engagement provides a central pedagogical means for this approach providing active learning through community service. A liberation approach to learning is particularly well suited for working with communities in need, underserved communities, and communities that historically and currently lack social and political power. Avoiding rep-

Civic Engagement    33 Table 3.1  Assumptions of Traditional and Liberation Learning Paradigms Learning Paradigms Assumptions

Traditional

Liberation

Goal Self Knowledge Truth Learning

Standardization Contained and individualistic Static and decontextualized Singular and objective Passive process

Power

Used to monitor, correct and control Passive transfer to recipient

Flexibility Relational and contextual Dynamic Co-constructed Active and socially constructed process Used to empower others

Learner

Teacher Problem focus Pedagogy

Transfers information to learner Linear, single-cause Primarily didactic

Actively constructs thru understanding relevance to self and others Co-construction of meaning Complex and systemic Multi-modal

lication of oppressive conditions that have historically created communities in need provides a civic engagement model for members of higher education seeking to work with communities. As Freire (1981, 1998) aptly states, if you want to help those in need, you must work with the oppressed while they organize and empower themselves. Civic engagement in the form of service learning, community service, and community-based action research start with the assumption of working with and in the community. We present the assumptions of these competing learning models in Table 3.1. Although many college courses lend themselves easily to civic engagement, many students receive most of their training from a traditional perspective where understanding, describing, and practicing helping is from an expert position and lens. As a result, college students often become confused when introducing social justice perspectives of helping into academic courses. Many students have learned from teachers who used the traditional pedagogy model from primary through secondary education, and many academics in higher education use a traditional model. Pedagogical challenges arise for the socially justice-oriented teacher when college students receive most or all of their training from a primarily expert-focused perspective. When students question whether social justice helping is academically sound, a pedagogical approach that challenges the constructed

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Communitybased action research

Service learning

Volunteerism Civic Engagement

Internships

Community service

Figure 3.1  Higher education civic engagement activities. Source: Adapted from Edward Zlotkowski (not a complete list)

boundaries of disciplines and practices within higher education becomes crucial. This chapter serves as an overview of civic engagement (see Figure 3.1), a nationwide movement for students in higher education to learn and serve communities in need. By serving communities that are disempowered socially (with inadequately funded preschools), economically (with more than half of their members in poverty), as well as culturally and racially (with high proportions of immigrants and minorities), students gain experiential learning opportunities, strengthening collaborative bonds across campus and community. We briefly review the current theory and research on college-focused civic engagement describing the important role community service plays in supporting university–community collaborations.

What Is Civic Engagement? Peter Levine, director of the Center for Information and Research on Civic Learning and Engagement, defines civic engagement as “acting upon a heightened sense of responsibility to one’s community.” Similarly, Barbara Jacoby, scholar at the University of Maryland, in her 2009 book, Civic

Civic Engagement    35

Engagement in Higher Education, identifies the wide range of activities and terms used to describe civic engagement including developing civic sensitivity, social participation, public problem solving, community service, building civic society, public leadership, social justice, and benefiting the common good (Jacoby & Associates, 2009; see Figure 1). The broad term civic engagement encompasses the notion of global citizenship and interdependence. Through civic engagement, individuals—as citizens of their community, their nations, and the world—are empowered as agents of positive social change for a more democratic world. This is explained best by Ernest Boyer, who in his 1990 book, Scholarship Reconsidered, defined scholarship of engagement as connecting higher education resources with the most pressing ethical, civic, and social issues.

How Engaged Scholars Train Students Toward Civic Engagement In order for civic engagement to flourish in higher education, several components need to be in place, including: ◾◾ University/college administrative support (i.e., offices dedicated to providing students with civic opportunities) ◾◾ Faculty buy-in and support (i.e., administrative support of faculty civic involvement beyond the campus) ◾◾ Student interest (i.e., college/university support through academic credit for civic involvement) ◾◾ Community participation and collaboration Furco’s (2001, 2003) research demonstrates that the key factors for service learning success involve support and buy-in from the educational institution and faculty. Without buy-in and institutional support, many faculty and administrators will find civic engagement practices nearly impossible to conduct. Other important elements needed for successful higher education civic engagement presented by the Coalition for Civic Engagement and Leadership, 2005 and the Civic Engagement Working Group, 2006 include: ◾◾ Understanding the embeddedness of the self in relational, historical, and social time ◾◾ Valuing and appreciating resources and knowledge of diverse cultures and communities ◾◾ Understanding that identity is related to inherited and self-chosen groups ◾◾ Expressing one’s voice to create social change

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◾◾ Collaborative inquiry and negotiated social action ◾◾ Taking action on issues of concern and commitment ◾◾ Knowledge rooted in values connected to democratic ideals and practices ◾◾ Knowledge as dynamic, systemic, and changing ◾◾ Knowledge of key historical struggles and movements toward democracy ◾◾ Working through conflict ◾◾ Active political role ◾◾ Knowledge of key debates within one’s major ◾◾ Public problem solving and community service ◾◾ Taking leaderships roles in organizations ◾◾ Empathy, ethics, and sense of social responsibility ◾◾ Promoting social justice Educators have many pedagogy practices available to them to provide such civic engagement learning opportunities, including service learning, community service, problem-based learning, collaborative learning, fieldwork, and community-based action research, to name just a few. Each of these approaches requires educators to build connections for students between their personal commitments, lifestyles, and community activities (Colby, Ehrlich, Beaumont, & Stephens, 2003; Jacoby and Associates, 2009). Undergraduate education using a civic engagement model involves rethinking, remodeling and reenvisioning curriculum, teaching, assessment, and faculty role. Next, we explore some of the extensive research on service learning.

Service Learning As an Example of Civic Engagement While there are many experiential activities available, the most extensive research exists for service learning. Although service learning has a long history dating back to the 19th century, the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s reinvigorated this activist-focused approach to social change and led to the development of the Peace Corps and VISTA (Volunteers in Service to America). By 1969, sponsors of Peace Corps, VISTA, Urban Corps, and education boards developed recommendations that more fully integrate community service into higher education. This resurgence of higher education civic engagement continued on college campuses, and several critical national service-learning initiatives passed. For example, in 1985, Campus Compact (a coalition of approximately 1,200 presidents of colleges and university committed to supporting civic engagement in higher education) was created by the Education Commission of States, the National and Community Service Act of 1990,

Civic Engagement    37

Serve America, AmeriCorps and Senior Corps programs, and Learn and Serve America. Service learning literature describes the recent efforts to increase civic engagement of higher education within their local communities. Service learning specifically rejects the “banking model” of education (Freire, 1981; Colby et al., 2003; Colby, Beaumont, Ehrlich, & Corngold, 2007) and relies instead on active community engagement as a primary pedagogy tool. Some scholars (Furco, 1996; Sigman, 1994) argue that service learning includes a continuum of academic experiential opportunities with some service learning focused much more on those served (e.g., volunteerism and community service) and other service learning opportunities focused more on the students’ learning (e.g., internships and field-based education). The various types of service learning often reflect the philosophy and pedagogy of the particular curriculum. When service learning is engaged “thickly” it can provide effective community service and increase academic learning (Liu, 1995; Morton, 1995). Service learning not only provides community service and academic learning but does so though deep reflection of values requiring the learner to take a stance on whatever community service in which one is engaged (e.g., Do I speak up in a homeless community? Do I intervene in an argument between a teacher and a parent?). Hence, knowledge and valued-based community service action are deeply embedded within service learning (see Figure 3.2). The standard definition of service learning provided by Bringle and Hatcher (1995) is: course-based, credit bearing educational experience in which students (a) participate in an organized service activity that meets identified community needs, and (b) reflect on the service activity in such a way as to gain further understanding of course content, a broader appreciation of the discipline, and an enhanced sense of civic responsibility. (p. 112)

This definition of service learning reveals the critical components of values, knowledge and action found in the broader concept of civic engagement. Values

Actions

Figure 3.2 

Civic Engagement

Knowledge

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Much of the research conducted on the impact of service learning reveals significant increases in students’ moral reasoning and development, civic engagement, transfer of in-class and out-class learning, academic learning, and critical thinking (Astin & Sax, 1998; Astin, Sax, & Avalos, 1999; Brownnell & Swaner, 2009; Eyler & Giles, 1999; Eyler, Giles, Stenson & Gray, 2001; Rhoads & Howard, 1998). While generally effective for students engaged in service learning, research suggests very little improvement for community members served. In some cases, service learning seems even to make things worse for community members, perpetuating the dominant deficit perspective (Boyle-Baise, 1999; Rosenberg, 1997; Sleeter, 2001; Varlotta, 1997). Schultz (2007) even goes so far as to claim that service learning is simply patronizing. Learning how to civically engage with communities without perpetuating inequalities is higher education’s central challenge. Dan Butin, founding Dean of School of Education at Merrimack College, in his 2010 book, Service Learning in Theory and Practice: The Future of Community Engagement in Higher Education, expanded the definition of service learning addressing the need for mutual benefits to community service. Butin suggests that service learning embraces a pedagogy steeped in philosophical and strategic decisions to build relationships between higher education and local communities, one “culturally saturated, socially consequential, politically contested, and [an] existentially defining experience” (pp. 17–18). As Butin asserts, service learning challenges us to rethink, reevaluate, and reenact our pedagogical practices and policies within and outside of the classroom. This book attempts to address the lessons we learned in this process.

Community-Based Action Research as Example of Civic Engagement As previously noted, criticism has been leveled at the academy for failing to engage with communities outside of the ivory tower (Strand et al., 2002). To address this criticism, service learning has been implemented in colleges and universities across the United States with the aim of promoting students civic involvement and social and democratic development (Knapp, Fisher, & Levesque-Bristol, 2010; Strand et al., 2002). In spite of the widespread acceptance of service learning (Strand, 2002), researchers are increasingly noting the limitations of traditional service learning courses. First, as stated above, it has been noted that the university, and not the community, is at the center of service learning (Stoecker, 2005; Stoecker, Loving, Reddy, & Bollig, 2010). As such, traditional service learning may maintain inequities between the university and the community (Stoecker, 2005). Second, be-

Civic Engagement    39

cause of the structure of the university semester, there are time constraints placed on service provided by students. Real social change is likely to require sustained action (Clary & Snyder, 2002). Without sustained action, students’ impact on community organizations is likely to be minimal. Related to this, because of the time limits placed on service learning classes, organizations may struggle to find meaningful experiences for students (Bach & Weinzimmer, 2011), or even worse, may find that student service learners place a considerable burden on community staff who need to serve as trainers and supervisors to students (Stoecker, 2005). Finally, Stoecker suggests that because students in traditional service learning classes engage in charity work, service learning may reinforce ideas that poor communities are helpless (Stoecker, 2005). Community-based research (CBR) is becoming a popular framework for civic engagement for colleges and universities in the United States (Stoecker, 2005; Willis, Peresie, Waldref & Stockmann, 2003) that addresses some of the limitations of service learning. CBR, defined as a collaborative research endeavor between students, faculty, and a community, aims to address a community-identified need or broader social change (Brown, 2011; Strand et al., 2002). By recognizing that all involved are researchers and learners, CBR values multiple sources of knowledge and promotes collaboration at every stage of the research process (Marullo, Moayedi, & Cooke, 2009; Strand et al., 2002). Consequently, CBR goes beyond traditional service learning to provide a framework for power sharing between academics and community partners (Stoecker, 2005; Strand et al., 2000). CBR also enables colleges and universities to meet their primary goals of educating students, advancing teaching and scholarship, and providing service to the wider community (Dallimore, Rochefort, & Simonelli, 2010). CBR is an effective mode of teaching, learning, and empowerment for students, faculty, and community organizations (Strand, 2002). Students benefit from participating in CBR in a number of ways. First, conducting field research increases students’ interest in the research process (Ferrari, & Jason, 1996; Maich & Hall, 2011). Field research also allows students to apply research skills learned in the classroom to real-life problems identified by community partners (Bach & Weinzimmer, 2011; Ferrari, & Jason, 1996; Hyde & Meyer, 2004; Rosing & Hoffman, 2010). Second, students’ involvement in community-based research impacts their professional growth. Working with community partners gives students real-world experience and helps them to develop marketable skills such as communication and negotiation skills (Rosing & Hoffman, 2010; Willis et al., 2003). Additionally, involvement in CBR affects students’ career goals (Ferrari & Jason, 1996; Willis et al., 2003). Third, CBR helps students gain a better

40    Beyond the Campus

understanding of how societal structures can hinder the reduction of social inequalities, and how these structures can render short-term solutions such as charitable donations or short-term service inefficacious (Rosing & Hofman, 2010). Finally, through engaging in CBR, students develop the knowledge and skills necessary to become active citizens in a participatory democracy (Brown, 2011). Faculty, as well as students, benefit from being involved in CBR. One way faculty benefit from CBR is through expanded skills and knowledge. Specifically, faculty gain experience in facilitating discussions, negotiating conflicts, empowering students and community members, and supporting students’ professional and personal development (Stoeker & Tryon, 2009). CBR also enables faculty to broaden their research focus and further their scholarship while contributing to the community. The type of research that faculty and students produce through CBR projects affects social change, rather than “shelf research” that is printed in research journals and left on shelves to collect dust (Stoecker, 2005). Finally, community organizations benefit from CBR. Through the process of CBR, less powerful members of society become a central component of knowledge formation and gain access to institutions that have complementary resources (Stoeker, 2005). CBR offers benefits beyond those offered by traditional service learning classes by building deeper community relationships (Willis et al., 2003). However, Stoecker (2005) notes two challenges that faculty should be prepared for when developing a CBR course. First, CBR projects rarely fit neatly into the academic schedule. As such, students and faculty embarking on CBR should be prepared for the project to take longer than one semester. Second, Stoecker notes that in spite of the increasing popularity of CBR, traditional service learning courses tend to be more widely recognized and have more support within institutions than CBR. As such, faculty planning to teach CBR courses may need to be diplomatic in negotiating resources as to avoid competition and conflict.

Guidelines for Best Practices and Effective University– Community Partnerships We have been fortunate to have an office of service learning on campus with whom we work directly and who supply service learning assistants, often students who took the primary author’s course the previous semester. As Harkavy (2004) states, service learning is only as effective as the resources provided by the commitment of the university to such endeavors. Key components (Werner, Voce, Openshaw, & Simons, 2002) include:

Civic Engagement    41

1. Ensuring “win–win” opportunities for community partners and students 2. Keeping a focus on context 3. Being empowerment driven 4. Engaging in sustainable projects Additional ideas for effective service learning collaborations identified by Bringle and Hatcher (2002) encompass: 1. Clear mission, purpose, and goals of class and community objectives 2. Campus clearinghouse where community partners and students can teach each other 3. Compatibility between faculty, student, and community needs 4. Effective communication across all stakeholders 5. Skilled staff to support liaisons between community and campus partners For any university–community partnership to be effective, sharing perspectives will help ensure a more successful and empowering process that may lead to long-term sustainability. Some useful ideas for best practices and action toward developing effective partnerships include: 1. Develop a vision for your partnership that honors the mission and goals of the members of the university and the community. What does the community want to change? Determine if agreement exists on the goals of the partnership. Do the goals of the community align with the values of the university members? 2. Think about the support systems and resources across the university and community. What resources are available in the university that can be tapped? What are the similarities and differences in communication and interaction patterns that might influence the collaboration? 3. Foster dialogue across all levels of the partnership in order to share ideas and to uncover challenges that exist within any collaboration. Determine how to foster dialogue throughout the collaboration. 4. Consider who needs to be involved in the collaboration—students, parents, administrators, teachers, staff, other leaders, board members, extended stakeholders. 5. Discuss what it means to be accountable, responsible, and sustainable.

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4 Method Community-Based Action Research [I] want a place that people can come together and work together. [My greatest concerns] are if the children are being supervised appropriately. —Executive Director of early learning center

A Snapshot of the Community A call for help and a desire to create a more peaceful community: The executive director of a nearby economically disadvantaged and diverse early learning center contacts us and indicates her desire for peace-building training for teachers to help make her community safe for children. Thus begins an intensive multiyear university–community consulting engagement. This project began as a consulting attempt to provide conflict resolution training to members of an early education center in the Northeast region of the United States (Austin & Harkins, 2006; Doppler & Harkins, 2008; Ronayne, Harkins, Austin, & Sharicz, 2010). Initiated at the request of the center’s executive director, university faculty and students began by providing conflict resolution training to parents and teachers, focusing on how to create classrooms that would be more peaceful. Prior to initiating trainBeyond the Campus, pages 43–55 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

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ing, we conducted a needs assessment to determine community members’ ideas and suggestions for this intervention. The later, more comprehensive intensive action-based project grew from that initial request. Here, we begin by describing how this university–community partnership began. Next, we provide an overview of the early learning center, which elucidates the social and economic dynamics that affected this historically disadvantaged community when our project began. We conclude the chapter with a macro view of local, regional, and national crises in early childhood education.

How the Collaboration Began The executive director (ED) describes the setting when she first arrived at her large, culturally diverse and economically depressed early learning center located in a small city in the northeastern United States. Chaos abounded after a recent expansion of the center. Conflicts were continuously erupting. Teachers were overwhelmed trying to manage their classrooms while attempting to resolve the inevitable conflicts without adequate knowledge or conflict resolution training. In addition, resources were sparse, with few books, writing tools, or toys. Of the few materials present, most were second-hand items sourced from local public libraries, schools, and the staff themselves. The ED continues, I was very concerned with the lack of safety for both children and the staff at the center. Safety needs were manifested in different ways. The children fought over toys in the play yard if they did not get what they wanted, and formed small groups that bullied other children. Some staff overlooked the behavior, and others felt powerless to do anything about it. And when an administrator or I stepped in to stop the behavior, the effort was often met with a range of responses, from indifference to anger.

With the hiring of an ED charged with growing and expanding the center, expectations changed regarding staff performance, program goals, and organizational workflow. This organizational shift led to much tension and dissatisfaction throughout the center. Significant attrition of staff occurred, with more than half of the original twelve community members leaving soon after the arrival of the ED. The changing mission and goals were not transparent; communication from upper to lower levels of the organization was ineffective. Hence, resistance was high from teachers and long-time staff to any suggested changes by upper administration. Trust and collegiality had disappeared among all community members. According to the ED, prior efforts to address conflict were limited and not sustained: “Initial efforts to address the

Method    45

safety issues included workshops on child development, which received some professional support. However, the lasting effect of this strategy was limited.” In order to mitigate the disorganization occurring, the ED chose to focus on interpersonal conflicts, staff training, and community building among teachers, parents, and children. At this point, the ED sought out a university partner to provide conflict resolution training in the hopes of promoting a more healthy and peaceful community. When I asked the staff what they wanted, they stated that they needed help, but they had some difficulty articulating what that help would look like. I also became aware that we did not have the kind of parent participation that I had envisioned for the center. I became cognizant of the fact that I did not have all of the answers, and the answers that I did have were not working as I had hoped. One reason for this—as I learned through our university– community partnership—was that my viewpoint differed from that of the rest of the organization. While I knew that I did not have all of the answers, Senge points out that “often people in important leadership positions think they have to have all the answers, and those ‘below’ them hold the same view. Ironically, this fails to tap the collective intelligence that can arise when those in visible positions openly ask for help” (Senge, 1990). It is when the staff asked for help that I began discussions with [the first author] and her colleagues at Suffolk University to see what could be done.

Overview of the Community The center with which we collaborated serves primarily low-income children and their families in an urban New England neighborhood. As the ED stated: “No one [working here] is getting a living wage, including directors who are eligible for subsidies.” With few resources, the ED spent a great deal of her time writing grants to support existing and developing programs. The center is located in a poverty-stricken area with a high incidence of violence. A major challenge for this community at the start of intervention was trying to increase parent involvement. Parents were detached from the early learning center, with very few attending meetings or center activities. Teachers, directors, and staff were at a loss about how to get parents involved. The vision and goals of the ED included an early learning center that was safe, where people got along with each other and where young children were able to learn. She stated, “I wanted people [to] come together, [to] work together, and [to] develop a place that feels welcoming.” In initial discussions with the ED, she indicated her greatest concern was child safety and development.

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Early Education There is a plethora of intuitional research available indicating a positive correlation between early education and long-term social and academic achievement (Ludwig & Sawhill, 2008).  For example, studies reveal that individuals who enrolled in early education are 22% more likely to complete high school, 19% more likely to attend college, and 12% less likely to commit a crime (Ludwig & Sawhill, 2008). Benefits are particularly evident in children from disadvantaged families (Morrissey & Warner, 2007). The research is clear: Intervening at an early age creates more benefits, reduces costs, and impacts development significantly more than at any other developmental period (Morrissey & Warner, 2007). The primary early childhood education program Head Start provides low-income children aged 3–5 with schooling, health, nutrition, and social welfare services. Head Start services around one million children annually, at a total cost of $7 billion, with an average of $9,000 spent per student. Programs such as Head Start aim to empower parents and encourage them to get involved in the education of their children, while providing parents with other services that support their employment and provide better living conditions (Ludwig & Sawhill, 2008). In the United States in 2008, 20% of children came from families with unemployed parents and 44% of all American children—a total of 11,053,420 under the age of six—came from families considered “low income” (NCCP). With the national rate of unemployment at 8.1% in 2012 (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics), enrolling children in Head Start allows parents the time to obtain a job and generate an income while their children are cared for and educated. Despite Head Start’s obvious benefits, a relative dearth in funding decreases the availability of enrollment in these programs and waitlists often delay or prevent immediate care (Ludwig & Sawhill, 2008). Although the long-term benefits for children from disadvantaged families who receive early education are firmly established, funding allocated to programs like Head Start is often much less than what is needed and is not evenly distributed to those communities most in need. Despite evidence that underprivileged communities may receive the greatest significant benefits from high-quality childcare, data reveal that lower-income communities receive less funding than higher-income areas. For example, Ludwig and Sawhill (2008) examined counties across the U.S. and found that higher-income communities received 50–100% more funding, despite the more obvious need in other lower-income communities. Such disparities in funding influence the early education programs available to those communities in most need.

Method    47

Systemic Marginalization of Early Childhood Educators Although the funding picture may be grim, the situation surrounding our culture’s views of early childhood educators is worse. There appears to be a blatant disregard for the significance of prekindergarten education, evident in low teacher salaries, minimal benefits, and nonexistent or minimal teaching requirements to work with preschoolers. For example, requirements to work with young children in low-income preschools are often less than a bachelor’s degree and no more than a high school diploma. In comparison to state preK programs, which generally require a four-year college degree, even Head Start programs do not have minimum requirements for their early educators. Another indicator of the low valuation of early educators in community settings is teacher median salary. According to most recent available U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, the hourly wages for daycare and preschool workers in 2010 were $9.28 and $12.35, respectively. Considering that daycare workers’ median income is less than fast food cooks, janitors, school bus drivers, and only five cents more than that of taxi drivers (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2009), it is not surprising that teacher turnover rates are high. This phenomenon creates a continuous need for new workers who will likely be similarly untrained and underpaid. This book explores the complex set of obstacles and lessons learned as we worked to achieve the ED’s goal of a peaceful learning environment and workplace. Realizing change within a community that was significantly disadvantaged socially, politically, and academically created a unique set of collaborative issues for all involved. These issues included exploring the systemic nature of the conflicts within, across, and surrounding the community center; overcoming obstacles to achieve a high-functioning administrative team; and critically reflecting on the multiple levels of existent marginalization.

Community-Based Action Research Method and means cannot be separated from the ultimate aim. —Emma Goldman

Action-based methodology holds special importance for social-justicefocused community interventions, and this approach unabashedly acknowledges its subjective and morally bound perspective. Action focused researchers beginning with Lewin (1946; see also Argyris & Schon, 1996;

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Schein, 2009; Senge, 1990) emphasize the value of community-based and organizational-focused research as a means for the achievement of positive and sustainable community change. Since their beginnings, action-based methods have been a critical means to work with marginalized or disenfranchised groups (Fraenkel, Hameline, & Shannon, 2009). Similarly, other qualitative methodologies, which seek to engage and elevate research participants, are often oriented toward social justice (Kamya, 2007). Social science research designs that use action-based methods often seek to engage community members as co-facilitators, co-partners, and co-researchers to create more lasting and socially just community change. It is for these reasons we chose an action-based approach to address potential organizational issues in the process of doing community based intervention and research. As discussed in Chapter 2, a process-based approach involves examination of all aspects of an organization. Given our model of community collaboration and the ED’s familiarity with our approach, we mutually agreed that a needs assessment should precede the conflict resolution training to determine members’ ideas regarding conflicts occurring in their community. Subsequent to the needs assessment, campus and community partners designed and implemented an intervention based upon the needs of members of this community, theories of systemic change (Lewin, 1946; Senge, 1990), and community-based models of violence prevention. The eleven-week intervention included a series of workshops and project meetings for parents and teachers, as well as classroom support for teachers through modeling and constructive dialogue. The fourfold aim of the intervention included: 1. Provide and model strategies for creating a safe and supportive environment for children and communities 2. Act as an initial support to a group of teachers 3. Determine the efficacy of the intervention 4. Empower community members to train the remaining teachers The second half of the project focused on team building with community administrators. This chapter summarizes the action-focused methods, process, and interventions employed during this university–community engagement.

Partners Campus partners included three faculty members (authors DH, SR, and CS) at a university in the Northeast region of United States. The first two authors are associate professors in a psychology department with special-

Method    49

ization in community service, teambuilding, social justice, and diversity issues. The third author was an associate professor in the education department with a specialization in organizational systems. Three of four of graduate students involved (authors MA, MR, and ED) worked on their doctoral research with the first author at various points in the project. In addition, three of five undergraduate students involved (authors JN, CM and JP) were part of the first author’s project team. Weekly on-campus project meetings occurred throughout the period of collaboration. The community partner comprised a primarily female center whose membership included the Executive Director, associate and assistant directors, along with teachers, assistant teachers, parents, and staff. At the beginning of the project, the center served approximately 350 families. The center represented a diverse and multicultural community: ◾◾ 23 participants identified themselves as Caucasian or European (37.7%) ◾◾ 14 indicated they were of Latin American or Hispanic descent (23.0%) ◾◾ 8 participants were either African American or Cape Verdian (13.1%) ◾◾ 2 participants identified as Asian (3.2%) ◾◾ 16 participants declined to disclose their ethnicity (26%) Data were collected at two points—pre- and post-intervention—and participation rates were similarly high on both accounts: 44 employees participated pre-intervention (69.8% or the entire organization) and 45 participated post-intervention (71.4%), with 28 employees participating in both pre- and post-intervention. See Figure 4.1 for project timeline.

Phases of the Project Phase One: First Needs Assessment The first phase of this community engagement involved conducting a needs assessment to determine how community partners at all levels of the organization viewed the issue of heightened conflicts as specified by the ED. The following steps were taken: 1. A 13-item, semi-structured interview schedule was developed in collaboration with the ED to assess community members’ beliefs about general classroom and community concerns, specific beliefs and observations about children’s conflict behavior, specific

Year 2

Classroom observation for six weeks to observe classroom conflict

Four teachers receive 9 hours a week of classroom support for three months to integrate training

Interviews and surveys across entire center

Workshops and monthly project meetings with teachers

Year 3

Executive coaching with ED continues

Presentation of findings to adminstratives and staff

Needs assessment (2) of organizational issues

Conflict resolution intervention begins

Year 4

Teambuilding workshop (MBTI)

Weekly team meetings for one year

Communication and conflict resolution workshops to center staff

Center intervention continues and Management team intervention begins

Figure 4.1  University–community project timeline and activities (year 1 through year 8).

Year 1

Suggestions for intervention

Oral and written presentations of findings—findings reveal communication and conflict as central issues

Interviews across entire center

Needs assessment (1) on center wide conflicts

Project begins Meetings between ED and DH

Years 5–8

Interviews with ED

Interviews & termination meetings with center staff and director team

Project ends

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Method    51

2. 2. 3. 4. 5.

beliefs about adult responses to children’s conflict, and areas in which they would like to receive training and support. Focus groups of parents and teachers were asked similar questions. Injury reports were gathered pre- and post- intervention. Classroom observations of preschool classroom conflicts were video taped post-intervention. Journal records were kept by university members throughout the intervention. Teachers were interviewed post-intervention.

We invited community members (i.e., preschool teachers, teacher aides, parents, and administrative staff) to participate on a voluntary basis prior to the intervention as part of a needs assessment. Administrative staff made allowances for teachers and staff to participate during the workday. Researchers made additional efforts to accommodate parents’ schedules, including providing childcare and conducting phone interviews. The needs assessment revealed three areas of concern: 1. Concern regarding classroom violence and aggression among children 2. Impact of increased ratio of children in the classroom that made it difficult for adults to intervene 3. Perception of little support or effective communication throughout the center

Phase One: Conflict Resolution Training Based on the information gathered in the first needs assessment, we discussed and consulted with center staff, an intervention was co-developed based on available resources. We sought to engage team members in diagnosing and creating their own solutions for problems they identified in the needs assessment and throughout the project. The conflict resolution intervention developed focused on the toddler and preschool program (due to limited university human resources) and included: 1. Eleven weeks of nine hours a week of in-class support to assist toddler and preschool teachers to integrate the training information into their classrooms 2. Six workshop trainings for parents and all center teachers 3. Monthly community project planning meetings during which teachers, parents, and researchers collaborated to review the

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progress and process of the intervention and to make changes as needed. Following the intervention, we interviewed teachers a second time using the same interview schedule. Journals Throughout the intervention phase of the project, the consultant team that volunteered in the classrooms maintained journals to document observations of classroom conflict behavior and anecdotal evidence regarding community members’ reactions when applying the model. Additionally, a lead investigator kept a community log to document participant attendance at training and project meetings as well as issues that arose among consultants and participants throughout the intervention. We used these journals to validate timelines for trainings and participation and to provide a context for interpreting teacher interview responses. Classroom Observations In addition to the interview data, we conducted classroom observations of conflict behavior over a six-week period following the intervention to capture live incidents of children’s conflict in the classroom. A graduate student and a research assistant observed each of the six classes for one hour each week, primarily during the children’s free play. Both observers sat next to each other in an unobtrusive location in the classroom and did not interact with the children. The graduate student recorded written observations describing incidents of children’s conflict while the assistant captured these incidents on video camera. In addition, we asked lead teachers and a selected child to wear audio recorders in a pack around their waists to assist with documentation of the verbal interactions during incidents of conflict. The six-week observational period was broken down into two phases. We designated the first two weeks of the observation period for piloting the observational process. Our two aims of this pilot period were: 1. to establish inter-rater reliability for incidents of conflict 2. to sensitize the children and teachers to the presence of observers and AV equipment The actual observation period continued over the following four weeks, resulting in four hours of observational data per classroom. Due to a medical leave of absence, one teacher only participated in the two pilot weeks and the first three actual observation days. We used the observational foot-

Method    53

age from these six classrooms to provide anecdotal evidence to compare differences in teachers’ classroom practice of empathy and empowerment between teachers involved in and those not involved in the intervention.

Phase One: Data Analysis Teacher Interviews We examined possible changes at various levels within this community using teacher interviews. Next, we analyzed teacher interviews to explore the issue of aggression in the classroom from the perspective of the teachers in the community before the intervention and to describe change in two individual teachers’ experiences at three phases of the intervention. Additionally, we completed a series of quantitative analyses to measure individual change in teacher empathy and empowerment. Case studies of teacher interviews allowed comparison of teacher responses across three interviews between a teacher involved in the intervention and a teacher not involved in the intervention. The case studies explored the extent to which the intervention may have facilitated changes in empathy, support, and empowerment among relationships at multiple levels of the system. We thematically analyzed these two cases to explore teacher beliefs about their classrooms, children’s peer conflict, and adult conflicts across three interviews before the intervention, immediately after the first intervention, and several months after the first intervention. We provide the details of these case studies in Chapter 5 as lessons learned for addressing community conflict at multiple levels. Quantitative Analyses A series of quantitative analyses assessed change in teacher empathy and empowerment based upon the narrative analysis of teacher interviews from participating classrooms. We coded empathy (Hoffman, 2000) and empowerment (Evans, 2002; Shulova & Harkins, 2009) using these interview segments. Classroom Observations We made observations of teacher classroom behavior during child conflict. For each of the classrooms, we reviewed video observations to identify the teachers’ responses to children’s peer conflict (Evans, 2002) including: 1. Evidence of teachers’ acknowledgement of children’s feelings 2. Gathering of information from each child’s perspective 3. Restating the problem in child’s words

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4. Asking children for possible solutions 5. Following up on children’s shared solution

Transition Upon completion of the first intervention phase, the teachers involved with the training and research on conflict resolution stated that their willingness to carry on the effort would be contingent upon administrators’ ability to support them and, in particular, to take ownership of the initiative. Center administrators, however, stated that they did not want to lead this effort, but wanted instead to focus on creating consistent policies and procedures. In this way, it became clear that the consulting intervention (and research effort) would need to move to the administrative level in order to achieve meaningful and lasting change. Clearly multiple organizational issues occurred at this critical juncture of this community engagement. (See Chapter 6 for further discussion.)

Phase Two: Second Needs Assessment and Team Building The second phase of the intervention was primarily concerned with the administrative team and assessing change across the entire organization. We conducted a second needs assessment in order to hear how teachers and administrators understood the current “problems” at the center and to solicit their ideas about what kinds of changes were desirable at that point in time. We audio recorded all interviews and thematically analyzed them. With the consent of the management team and staff, surveys that reflected the needs assessment’s themes were developed and distributed for completion before the second phase of the intervention began. Based on the needs assessment and in discussion with community members, the second phase included a series of workshops on communication and conflict resolution (topics selected by the administrators and teachers), team-building sessions with the management team (including the MBTI), individual coaching sessions and “check-in” interviews throughout the intervention, and regular attendance of weekly management meetings by the primary researcher (a time commitment of approximately 16 hours/week). The first author and MA facilitated these weekly year-long community focused team building sessions. We completed follow-up intervention surveys after completion of all identified consultation activities and presented aggregated results of the survey research to center employees. The main survey results for phase two of the project can be found in Chapter 9.

Method    55

Community organizational assessment included the following measures: 1. Organizational learning (using the team climate index; participative safety and task orientation and a learning organization assessment) 2. Organizational performance (using turnover and SOHQ morale scale) 3. Organizational climate (using a school organizational health questionnaire SOHQ) For detailed information, see Austin and Harkins (2006) and Chapter 6.

Third Phase: Interviews with ED The third phase of this community engagement involved three sets of interviews with the ED two years after the second phase of community intervention conducted with the first author and CS. We held interviews to determine the ED’s views on the state of the community center before during and after this community engagement. Questions included strengths and challenges regarding community organizational structure, dynamics, and resources at each of these phases of community engagement. In Part I, we discuss the initial community initiative and our processoriented approach to community intervention. In Part II, we explore our reflections on conflict resolution, team building, power/privilege, and sustainability of university–community partnerships from our action-based approach to community engagement.

Note This figure represents only those nonprofits that are registered and have incomes higher than $25,000 and who therefore must file tax returns. The actual number of nonprofits in the U.S. is likely much higher than 1.6 million (National Center for Charitable Statistics, 2011).

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Pa r t

III

Lessons Learned: Building a Sustainable Partnership

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5 Resolving Conflict Taking Down the Walls I think last year we had a wall right down the middle of the room. As you can see, we don’t have a wall anymore. We took down the wall. —Preschool teacher

I

n this chapter, we critically reflect on the collaborative project that contributed to at least some teachers feeling like they could finally take down the wall in their classrooms. Although this consulting project began with a request for training to reduce violence in the classroom, it quickly became clear that child aggression was a symptom of broader system-wide dysfunction. The following sections in this chapter critically examine what happened—and sometimes did not happen—to address conflict within this community. University–community lessons learned:

1. 2. 3. 4.

Move past surface issues Share power and expertise Process decisions at every step Focus on building relationships

Beyond the Campus, pages 59–69 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

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Lesson 1—Move Past Surface Issues Based on the needs assessment, teachers, parents, and administrators expressed that their approaches to intervening in child conflict were in dire need of change. Although there was a great deal of interest, support, and agreement regarding the need for solutions to resolve conflicts, several obstacles prevented this community from achieving their goal. One obstacle that quickly became evident was that these conflicts extended beyond the classroom. As children became more aggressive, teachers found parents becoming angry when their child came home with bite marks and bruises from other children. Unfortunately, teachers experienced parents’ anger to mean that parents believed teachers were inexperienced or inept. As parents complained more, administrators reprimanded teachers more. Further, as threats of parent complaints increased, parent–teacher communication decreased. For example, one teacher stated, “They [parents] feel as though because [names of assistant and ED] are the higher ups, it’s better for them to go and speak to them than us.” As parents increasingly sought out the directors’ audience, teachers felt less informed and valued. This communication breakdown led teachers to feel less able to understand and respond to child misbehavior. As one teacher stated, “If I just think that kid’s just being a little brat, I’m more upset with them.” Teachers discussed feeling powerless and believed this situation contributed to the high teacher turnover rates. Unfortunately, quick replacements often reinforced parents’ perceptions that teachers were ineffective.

Classroom Conflict Teachers described child behaviors such as biting, hitting, spitting, pushing, scratching, and kicking as children’s primary responses to interpersonal conflict. Teachers further explained that these behaviors often occurred in relation to other children and adults in the classroom over having to share toys or over following teachers’ directions. Typical teacher responses to child aggression included removing disputed toys, separating children, verbally instructing children (e.g., to share, get along, and/or be nice), sitting children in a time-out chair, or sending children to another classroom. While teachers agreed that the problem of child aggression was of concern, they expressed frustration with the limited resources available to address problem behaviors. Teachers were aware that their usual approaches were ineffective but did not know any other approach to address the escalating aggression in their classrooms. As one preschool teacher put it,

Resolving Conflict    61 The way an adult disciplines children is partly based on childhood experiences. In my case, do as you’re told, no voice in decisions, no voiced feelings, no compromises. I believed that stopping a fight altogether and saying things like, “We don’t do that. We have nice hands,” was the right approach.

Teacher assistants seemed even more lost about what to do with the constant classroom fighting, biting, and crying. As one teacher assistant explained, I get aggravated so fast, I want to help. Sometimes I leave here with such headaches. . . . I want to learn how to have more patience. I know sometimes I just, like, send the kids next door to the other teacher when they get outrageous and sometimes they’re better in that classroom than mine. I just want to be able to talk to them, you know, even if I went to one of those . . . just learned how to talk to them, you know. . . . I want to learn how to be more patient and not get aggravated so fast. I need ideas on what I can do with young kids; I do not know what to do with them.

Similarly, parents expressed frustration with the limited physical and human resources at the center and believed that these deficits contributed to child conflict. One parent expressed her disappointment with the “lack of qualified teachers” and another parent voiced her frustration, stating, “My child is bored because they don’t do anything; they only have paper and crayons here. I wish I could send my child somewhere where there were things for him to do like painting and reading. They are bored so they fight.” Parents were aware of and frustrated at the high turnover rates reported by teachers. For example, one parent indicated, “I have had my son here six months and he’s had five teachers and two directors.” In fact, the data gathered revealed that combined teacher and teacher aide turnover rates hovered above 80% in year one of the project. The impact of repeatedly hiring and providing intermittent training to teachers who quickly leave, along with the classroom disruption caused by teacher departures, coupled with parents’ perceptions of this constant teacher turnover, is difficult to overstate.

Attempts to Resolve Conflicts Many teachers identified ineffective training as contributing to the problem of managing child aggression. Despite past trainings, most community members reported that teachers did not intervene effectively when managing child conflict. Consistent reports of dissatisfaction suggested that past trainings were perceived as not relevant or sustainable. These reports, along with interviews and classroom observations, revealed the

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multiple factors underlying the failure of these training models to reduce classroom aggression. According to teacher reports, previous attempts to change their responses to child conflict in the classroom were unsuccessful. As teachers reconstructed their stories, underlying patterns of conflict emerged and seemed to contribute to the continuation of conflict in the classroom. Ultimately, teachers’ stories revealed that organizational structures were in conflict with the very behavior that the trainings were trying to promote. Teachers described administrator responses to child aggression as providing peer problem solving training for teachers. Unfortunately, teachers experienced this effort as simply an increase in “paper” solutions imposed upon them by administration through readings, newsletters, and workshops, with little follow-up or support. Interestingly, the only evidence of these previous trainings was literally a piece of paper listing steps for conflict resolution that the teacher had posted high on a corner wall, near the ceiling of the classroom. While teachers may have agreed with the new strategies, they felt that implementing them would be impractical. As a result, teachers grew weary of any new suggestions offered by administrators and reported feeling powerless and frustrated when trying to manage children in their care. A vicious cycle ensued as frustrated teachers reverted to their familiar power-assertive strategies, leading to a backlash from administrators. Unfortunately, these past attempts at conflict resolution had resulted in many side effects that undermined the organization. Teachers began to resist any new information that came their way. Teachers described using newsletters to communicate with staff, and felt resigned to interact in old ways with children. This resignation resulted in poor communication among staff, parents, and administrators. Administrators demanded that teachers demonstrate emotional intelligence, while teachers implored the same from children. Yet these demands had paradoxical effects. The general request for more support and frequent criticisms that teachers perceived continued to increase the teacher turnover rate while deepening the apathy of those teachers and staff that remained. The problem of aggression in the classroom persisted as the system inadvertently reinforced such behavior. Thus, changing the culture of the organization to one where all community members were appreciated, encouraged, and supported required more than a set of workshops. As a microcosm of larger social issues, this consulting project revealed that traditional efforts towards violence prevention in the lives of young children using short-term, symptomatic solutions fail to address the com-

Resolving Conflict    63

plex dynamics of conflict in an underserved and diverse community. In this case, while teachers felt directed to use strategies that upheld the rights of individuals and foster relationships, the top-down interventions were in conflict with the larger systemic picture of organizational imbalance. Individual change in conflict was unsustainable, while patterns of conflict in the larger context went unaddressed. In the past two decades, response to growing awareness of a need for broad community intervention to address school violence has led to several peer problem-solving models of conflict resolution (Bickmore, 1998). While research supports the use of peer problem solving models to foster children’s prosocial behaviors, most studies conducted have occurred within contexts where the organizational culture and/or philosophy were congruent with the values of autonomy, emotional expression, and empowerment inherent in the peer problem-solving models (Arcaro-McPhee, Doppler, & Harkins, 2002). Problems arise when introducing these models into culturally diverse and underserved communities and/or top-down, hierarchical organizations in which multiple views of conflict and power structures operate simultaneously. With this in mind, the need for institutional effort towards violence prevention, particularly in educational settings, is alarmingly clear (Deutsch, 1994). As reflected on a societal level, we repeatedly espouse ideas such as peace, fairness, and respect for diversity. Yet most adults are unsure of how to instill these values in children and often struggle with demonstrating these ideals in their own interpersonal relationships, particularly when in conflict with others (Goleman, 1995; Stone, Patton, & Heen, 1999). For example, adults often use their words to encourage children in conflict to share, get along, or take turns. However, traditional adult behavior models use power-assertive strategies to end conflict and decide who wins and who loses a dispute (e.g., through time out, removal of a disputed object, separation of children). Further, the adult’s behavior reinforces the notion that the powerful other (teacher/adult) is the person with the solution. From a systems perspective, it is illogical to expect children to use constructive negotiation skills towards mutually agreeable solutions when the social context of the teacher–child relationship does not consistently model and support such change (Senge, 1990).

Lesson 2—Share Power and Expertise Considering all that we learned during the needs assessment, it seemed clear that the highest leverage point entailed supporting community members in developing a culture of peaceful conflict resolution behavior. The

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intervention involved engaging community members in a learning process that felt safe and allowed members to take responsibility for changes in their own behavior, as well as that of their community. Rather than impose a model of conflict resolution through didactic instruction, we used a collaborative intervention to empower community members in the process of resolution. Our purpose of sharing the development of the interventions rests with the assumption that those with the prescribed “power” to initiate the intervention must model the values they attempt to instill, creating a context for celebration and tolerance of differences. Only when the intervention supports systemic change can we expect individuals within the system to make and sustain organizational change (Senge, 1990). We attempted this process by first working to build a context for understanding change within this community based upon the teachers’ descriptions of conflict and aggression in their community pre-intervention. We also held monthly project meetings and had opportunities to collaborate and support teachers in the classroom. The in-class support served as a critical component to organizational change as it made our commitment clear to teachers and the community at large. University members from the project team modeled the conflict resolution skills during the in-class support sessions. We became classroom partners even though teachers first thought we were sent by directors to spy on and undermine them. If we went in without valuing that the classroom was theirs and had tried to take over, disaster would have ensued. Ironically and despite this fact, the teachers frequently attempted to get us to tell them what to do. Informal conversations during the children’s naptimes likely provided one of the most valuable experiences in the process. The doors were opened for communication that was more honest as adults sat and whispered together in the dimly lit room with soft and soothing music playing in the background. It was during these moments that teachers sometimes took a risk and challenged us. These were wonderful moments when we had the opportunity to reflect on the teacher’s perspective and share alternative considerations. For example, one teacher referenced an event that had occurred earlier on the playground when a child had been walking around with a large stick, pretending to use it as a sword, and creating a potential power struggle between child and teacher. Rather than tell the child to put the stick down, the second author of this chapter engaged the child in a dialogue, encouraging her to brainstorm safe ways to use the stick on the playground. The teacher remarked, “Wow, you really got taken advantage of there!” The second author responded, “Is that how it seemed to you? I did not

Resolving Conflict    65

feel taken advantage of. I did that on purpose so the child could work with me and cooperate to find a better place for the stick. I felt good about the interaction.” Given the trust that built from in-class support, teacher and university partner were able to discuss the incident without defensiveness. As trust built over time, tensions turned into playful jesting. Teachers began to describe with enthusiasm how they were using the model outside of the classroom and in their communities. One teacher created a calming space for children to go when they were sad or angry. The children were eager to use the space. She appeared irritated and said to the university partner during naptime, “Great! Thanks a lot. Now all the kids are sad and angry. They hardly ever were before!” As the novelty of the space wore off, the children began to use the calming corner very effectively. The teacher often joked with the university partner, “There you go, talking about feelings again!” By the end of the intervention, the teacher shared with the university partner that she had labeled her husband’s feelings during a discussion, and that he made a joking comment, inquiring whether she had learned that from the university partner. She went on to describe with enthusiasm how she had used the conflict model to handle a frustrating situation with the local cable television company. Rather than get the runaround, she was very pleased when, as the result of her negotiation, the company provided her with additional benefits. Another teacher explained how she introduced the model to the principal in the local public school to help resolve some peer issues with her own child. We understood past unsuccessful efforts toward change in this community as reflective of a larger dilemma of competing conflict ideologies. The patterns and structures in the larger system went unaddressed and likely undermined previous attempts to affect conflict behavior. These findings served as a guide for the planning and implementation of any intervention. Our philosophy was to intervene at a systemic level by changing how teachers were involved in the process of reconstructing the culture of conflict. Teachers in this system not only worked on restructuring the culture of conflict in their professional relationships, but they were also empowered to sustain and generalize this culture of conflict to their larger communities.

Lesson 3—Process Every Decision with All Stakeholders One issue that emerged early was the tension between our intervention model and the traditional power structure of the organization. Most research on organizational learning supports the notion that change must begin with and be supported at higher levels of an organization, namely within the administration (Kline & Saunders, 1998). In this community, the

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administration invited the university team to enter the system, demonstrating endorsement of the philosophy of the model and participating in the initial stages. At the planning stage, lead teachers joined the project. Additionally, the university team suggested that the teachers’ aides might be included in the intervention. .

This suggestion received mixed reactions, and teachers initially decided that the aides would not want to participate. This discrepancy in perspectives emphasizes the challenge faced when trying to balance the tension between prescribed power to decide where to intervene, and sharing power with the community by respecting the boundaries established regarding how and with whom the intervention would begin. Instead of using this tension as an opportunity to challenge power dynamics within the organization, we chose to honor the voice of the community teachers, and this decision reverberated throughout the project. As the intervention continued, the issue of involving the aides reemerged but remained unresolved. The teachers and parents continued to be the primary participants in receiving the training and practice of the intervention. This missed opportunity is addressed more fully in Chapter 7. As a culmination addressing this administrative issue, the university team and trained teachers initiated an open project meeting for staff to discuss and begin to address their concerns at the end of the first intervention phase. The primary question that surfaced was given all the work done, who held the power to create and sustain the changes that the intervention inspired? The community members came to some agreement, in that training should be open to aides as well as teachers in other classrooms (i.e., infant/toddler, preschool, and early school aged) throughout the center. The university team envisioned the trained teachers taking the lead in these future trainings. The teachers expressed interest in assisting but not leading future trainings. Instead, teachers wanted administrators to take on this leadership role. Interestingly, the impact of the intervention in one group of teachers became more apparent to the community toward the end of the intervention. Teachers began to voice their concerns regarding the sustainability of the changes occurring in their classrooms. How could change remain without others in the community receiving training? Teachers were particularly concerned with including administrators and aides more directly in the training. However, some teachers continued to express mixed feelings about allowing aides to participate, believing aides to be less invested, too young, and too apathetic. At the same time, members of the administrative team developed their own unique concerns about how the intervention was

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proceeding. As the teachers became more vocal with their own feelings and frustrations, the administrators began to face the challenge of responding to the increased voicing of concerns and demands. As one director stated in a project meeting to determine the future direction of the study, “You’ve armed the angry mob. What are we supposed to do now?” This statement served as another indicator of the shifts in power that were occurring within the organization. Another critical incident emerged around this same time and put the validity and sustainability of the intervention to the test. The project team had initiated applications to present their experiences at several conferences. All four of the center’s teachers were actively involved in preparing presentations for one local conference. Then the opportunity arose to present the work at a conference in Hawaii. The organization agreed to fund the trip for the ED and one of four teachers—a trip to a dream destination, and only one of four teachers could go. Given the philosophy of collaboration and empowerment, what would be a logical way to resolve this dilemma? The ED approached the lead graduate student investigator from this phase and suggested that she put all of the teachers’ names in a can and have a drawing. The lead investigator reluctantly agreed with the suggestion. She felt hesitant and the teachers looked apprehensive, but no one articulated a concern in the moment. The drawing was held, the teacher was selected. The feeling of unease persisted. Shortly afterward, one of the other teachers approached the graduate student and expressed frustration and anger. She explained that the whole project so far was about working together and everyone having a say. However, the teachers were not asked what they thought was a fair way to decide who went to Hawaii. In fact, a few of the teachers felt a drawing was unfair because it was random and implied that everyone deserved to go equally. They felt that other teachers had different and possibly more compelling reasons for wanting to go on the trip. Additionally, they felt that some teachers had contributed more to the project and the decision could reasonably have been merit-based. Had time been taken to include all of the stakeholders in the discussion to problem solve how best to resolve this dilemma, the teachers may have still been disappointed if not picked, but they might have felt more confident about the outcome. To address this situation, the teachers, consultants, and administrators came together to acknowledge the experience of this decision and to reconsider the decision making process. Ultimately, the teachers voted to keep the outcome as determined by the raffle. The working relationship among the university team members and the staff members at the learning center

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was preserved despite hard feelings. Moreover, the power of the intervention model was perhaps bolstered by the evidence that these relationships were strong enough to tolerate mistakes, withstand difficult conversations, and constructively resolve interpersonal problems.

Lesson 4—Focus on Building Relationships Another impact of the intervention included changes in the types of language used by teachers in interviews before and after the intervention (see Doppler, Harkins, & Mehta, 2008). Shifts from negative to more positive language when discussing child conflict were apparent, as was as an increase in the usage of expressed “wants”- rather than “needs”-based language. This language shift suggests that teachers may have experienced more opportunity for choice rather than feeling a sense of obligation. Teachers’ increased use of empowering language coincided with their employment of classroom strategies in which sharing of power with children was occurring. For example, one strategy included using a timer to facilitate turn taking, creating opportunities for children to make decisions in the classroom. Further, we found teachers’ use of empowerment in the classroom to be more pronounced for teachers involved in the intensive intervention (Doppler et al., 2008). For example, teachers in the intensive intervention sought more child-centered solutions to conflicts postintervention than pre-intervention and more child-centered solutions than teachers from the less intensive intervention (that is, involved in all aspects of intervention except in-class support). These differential findings suggest that introduction of a model (whether it is imposed or co-constructed) has a greater impact on the viability of community change than the specifics of any one model. For example, we introduced several constructs around conflict resolution and community building using an empowerment model, including emotional expression, gathering information from all sides, engaging children in the resolution process. Several teachers incorporated more emotional activities into their curriculum and classroom, including “calming corners” and “Mr. Feelings” charts. However, it may be that emotional expression emerged and successfully integrated because the teachers had a voice in how to implement change in their community. Future integration of violence prevention models should not only include empowerment as a construct, but also be guided by the partner’s experience of power in relationships, especially in the context of the organizational structures. While financial productivity is often a key benchmark for organizational development, this study sheds light on the potential power of an often-overlooked variable, investment in relationships and community. The

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community members’ motivations were not limited to desire for financial compensation. Rather, the investment came from the developing relationships among community members and the opportunities created for support and empowerment. In this context, empowerment, relationship, and community building emerged to serve as key leverage points for making and sustaining fundamental changes in individual behavior and organizational culture. Consultations with underserved communities warrant the time and energy to foster empowerment and community building within organizational cultures (Senge et al., 2001). Investing in effective training would lower overall costs to the organization, as turnover rates would be expected to decrease. Lessons learned as we worked together to reduce violence highlight the importance of examining the systemic organizational issues that are prevalent in most communities before university partners begin trainings related to conflict. In most cases, conflicts at the lower levels of an organization—in this case child aggression—are symptomatic of larger systemic issues. This is particularly relevant given the increase in violence and the growing diversity of our society. We recommend reflecting on the following questions when conducting a similar community-based research project: What other issues beyond the identified issue may be influencing the community? How does the identified issue interact with the larger organizational issues? Consider how to address similar issues in your next community engagement. Are community stakeholders aware of the organizational dynamics affecting the conflicts within and across levels of interaction? Are community and university members willing to reflect on their own impact on the organizational dynamics and ready to commit to and engage in a long-term partnership to create systemic change? What needs to change to create a supportive, empowering, and peaceful community?

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6 Building a Team Be Ready for Elephants and Tomatoes If some of our problems are actually lessons, are actually stories to learn from, then in solving problems of this kind too quickly we risk losing the lesson or making the moral of the story disappear. We would be better off, it turns out, not solving some problems, but instead sticking with them in hopes they can “solve us” . . . the problems that solve us are those from which we genuinely learn. They change how we think. —Robert Kegan and Lisa Laskow Lahey, How the Way We Talk Can Change the Way We Work

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n this chapter, we examine the consulting intervention as it transpired at the level of the administrative team. We critically reflect on how the team evolved and what consultative techniques supported the growth we observed. As in the other chapters in this section, we have extrapolated what we learned into discrete lessons, and in the case of team development, all of them pertain to the active and ongoing process of building trust. Trust is the foundation from which we form and build interpersonal relationships. It is a prerequisite for high-performing teams, and without it, team members either avoid conflict entirely or fail to resolve conflicts in productive ways (Lencioni, 2002; see Figure 6.1). Inability to work through Beyond the Campus, pages 71–94 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

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Inattention to Results Avoidance of Accountability Lack of Commitment Fear of Conflict Absence of Trust

Figure 6.1  The five dysfunctions of a team (Lencioni, 2002).

conflicts impedes team learning, which, as Senge (1990) defines it, requires the alignment of all members to create the results that the team truly desires. Helping the center’s administrators to achieve the truly desired results was a key outcome that we, as consultants, were striving for throughout the intervention. We knew from the outset that conflict resolution would be a central focus of our work. However, upon engaging the team of administrative directors in this process, we quickly learned that it was first necessary to take a step back from this objective and address the more basic issues of trust, support (Kegan, 1982), and psychological safety (Edmondson, 1999). But what of “elephants” and “tomatoes”? These two words were chosen by the administrative team members to describe their journey together, and how this sojourn was punctuated by two pivotal conflicts. The first, which the team called the “elephant in the room meeting,” occurred about three months into the director-level consultation. It was given this label because the meeting was the first time that team members had dared to confront the fact that they actually had a conflict (up until that point the directors were largely committed to avoiding conflicts). This early conflict was experienced as negative by everyone and was characterized by uninterrupted monologues by the ED, by notable silences from the most junior associate directors, and by a great deal of mediation on the part of the middle manager on the team. The second conflict occurred nearly a year after

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the elephant in the room meeting and was named “the tomato meeting,” because the administrators likened the surfacing of conflict and confrontation of their boss to feeling as if they were “throwing tomatoes” at her. Post-intervention interviews revealed that this conflict was experienced as positive and as a turning point. Furthermore, subsequent analyses demonstrated important shifts in turn-taking behavior: The ED spoke more frequently and in shorter bursts, and previously silent members contributed their voices throughout the meeting. After these meetings and upon later reflection, the administrative team members felt that they had made progress because of the consulting effort. Analyses of turn-taking behavior and language (Austin & Harkins, 2009) and measures of organizational climate, organizational learning, and team effectiveness (Austin & Harkins, 2006) all indicated that, indeed, the administrators were happier and healthier by the end of their process (Austin, 2007). The following sections in this chapter are told in the first person voice (MA-author) providing critical reflections on what we did—and sometimes did not do—to build trust with this team as a prerequisite for conflict resolution and team development. University–community consulting lessons learned include the need to: 1. Get over yourself: Derive your confidence not from your role as expert, but from your basic human capacity for listening and empathy. 2. Be consistent: Follow through on what you promise, even when it feels like going backwards, sideways, or when it is just too darn hard. 3. When in doubt, bake cookies: Rethink the “golden rule”—underserved groups need support, and they need what they need, not what you might need; so give them help, but on their terms.

Lesson 1: Get Over Yourself! Walking into a new consulting engagement is scary. You are a stranger to those you have been charged with helping. You are an outsider, and you have been called in as an expert who, to be successful, must somehow fix a problem. What this problem is and how to create positive change may or may not be known at the outset. Nevertheless, any organization, large or small, for profit or not, is composed of people, all of whom are enmeshed in a very specific environment that is theirs—their company, their school, their team. In almost every sense, you, as the consultant, do not belong.

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This distance and the outsider status is one way you derive your power as a consultant: Your external perspective coupled with whatever expertise—models, frameworks, theories or diagnostic methods—you bring to the table. The initial impulse, which I (author MA) certainly felt in this case, is to demonstrate your value by imposing your knowledge on the group as soon as possible. That is the pull, and the challenge is to get over yourself and resist it!

Give Up the Security of Expertise For me, the intervention began with a suggestion by my doctoral research advisor. I had been working as a consultant prior to graduate school (designing and teaching custom trainings for leadership development, management, coaching and team building, among other topics), and so I had already amassed some measure of consulting expertise. I was writing my dissertation proposal and was in search of a team that would let me work with and study them for an extended period. My advisor, in turn, was looking for a graduate student to help the early education center’s administrative team learn to resolve conflicts productively and prosocially. Conflict resolution was the identified consulting objective, based on the demands made by newly empowered teachers: namely, that their bosses should practice what they preach, learn to resolve conflicts, themselves, and then take on the good work of training others at the center. My initial assumption, then, was that I would join the other university students and teachers to begin work with a team of administrators eager and ready to learn conflict resolution skills. This would be great, I thought, because I had actually taught workshops on team building and giving feedback using the Myers Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI; Myers & Myers, 1980) for major companies like Pepsico and Fidelity Investments, and I had loads of information and experience that I could share. However, I did not account for the fact that the administrators strongly disagreed with the teachers, nor did I sufficiently anticipate how little they trusted the university consultants, their own ED, or even each other. The mismatch between my assumptions and the reality of the situation became clear quickly. My first time attending a meeting at the early education center (a practice I would repeat for the entire two years of our partnership) I sat mostly in silence observing as the administrators subtly resisted the idea of being trained on, and then leading, the conflict resolution initiative (arms folded across their chests, vocalizing one small objection after another, etc.). I was prepared to speak about how we might use some of the tools I knew, like the MBTI, to understand conflict behavior,

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but as the objections in the room became more obvious, the idea that I would instruct administrators on anything that felt academic or was disconnected from their immediate context became increasingly preposterous. In fact, toward the end of the meeting, one of the bolder administrators (and the only male in an all-female team) asked me, in the guise of a joke, if I was “wearing a wire” and secretly recording what they were saying. That was the moment when I realized that the issue was more than objecting to conflict resolution training; rather, there was deep distrust among team members (Lencioni, 2002) and of the consultants, including myself. Building trust and creating a safe and open environment (where people did not suspiciously wonder if teammates and other would-be helpers were working against them) were the immediate priorities. Sharing of expertise, the application of frameworks, or any “canned” didactic instruction would have to wait.

Shut Up and Listen But how to proceed without the reflexive imposition of models or frameworks? What value can a consultant bring to a team in conflict if that value is not an extension of expert knowledge? These questions reverberated in my head as I wondered what the next step should be. As it turns out, there are some approaches to consulting, like Edgar Schein’s Process Consultation (Schein, 1999), that can accommodate multiple ways of helping. According to Schein, there are three ways consultants can potentially intervene to help a client system. One is through being an expert, where the assumption is that the consultant delivers some specific service, advice, or knowledge that the client system does not have. Another is through acting as doctor, where it is the consultant’s role to determine the nature of the problem (diagnose) and to find the best solution. The doctor–patient approach is the least empowering for the client, yet in some cases may be the most appropriate. The third approach is one of process consultation, in which the client system—in this case the team of administrators—is invited to frame their own problem and to devise a solution, while supported by the consultants. This method is the most empowering. Therefore, for theoretical reasons pertaining to serving underprivileged communities (explained at the beginning of this book) and for practical ones (e.g., the team’s initial resistance to the teacher-prescribed “solution” of conflict resolution training), we opted to “shut up and listen” to the community via a formal needs assessment process. Overall, I interviewed 27 directors, teachers, and teachers’ aides at the center, which constituted nearly half of all employees at that time. This

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meant a lot of listening, but it was well worth the effort. I analyzed my interview notes, the themes from which can be found in the appendix at the end of this chapter, and validated those findings with the administrative team privately, and then with the entire center in a public feedback and discussion meeting. The themes from this analysis can be found at the end of this chapter. This method allowed center employees to define their problem in their own words. It also helped me, as an outside consultant, to create a shared understanding of the issues that was firmly grounded in the employees’ experience, their context, and their perspective. At this point in the engagement, my research advisor and I were working closely together, and we took a similar approach to designing the team intervention. Rather than steamroll the administrators with conflict resolution training, we used the findings from the needs assessment as a springboard for discussing what kinds of changes the employees would want to work on as a team. The group consensus was that they wanted to clarify their roles by writing job descriptions and a policy manual. In other words, they wanted to resolve role conflicts within the team, not through conversation, but through the codification of rules that would be clear and unarguable. For example, one of the associate directors, during our first interview, acknowledged that a direct conversation with the ED and her director was needed, but she did not want to do it because she was afraid it would be “awkward in the end.” She said that she wished she had a “really specific, clear job description,” because if it were clear what her job was, she would not be upset about doing things she was “not supposed to do.” “If I know it’s my job, I’m not going to worry about it,” she explained and then told me that if she took up the issue directly there could be “bad feelings,” and that the administrators worked too closely to risk that. Referring back to Lencioni’s (2002) pyramid in Figure 6.1, this wish for job descriptions belongs at the second layer from the top—team members wanted accountabilities to be clear and to be able to rely on the power of policy to invoke compliance when disagreements arose. As consultants, we could see some of this dynamic as it was unfolding in various meetings. Furthermore, our assessment of the team was that working on the foundation of the pyramid—building trust and constructively resolving conflicts— would benefit the employees greatly. However, this is not what they wanted. They were not ready to begin there, and had we insisted that they do, we would have become just one more marginalizing force in their lives, though our intentions would have been pure. This would have been the antithesis of what we wanted to achieve.

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Some Things to Try That Worked for Us Listening to and supporting the administrative team’s diagnosis of and solution to their own problem was a critical first step in helping them to trust us as consultants. It was also a very humanizing action—that is, our behavior was intended to reduce the power differential between the consultant and the community members being helped. Therefore, allowing the team to take the lead was one way that we leveled the playing field and built trust. Additionally, we employed other techniques to reinforce this power shift, in baby steps, every week: ◾◾ Spend the time. People in underserved communities are used to not be being respected by or “worth the time” of consultants or other authority figures. They may punch the clock, but adopting a “clocking out” mentality, yourself, will not serve you in the helping role. During the needs assessment process, while I listened to many of the center’s employees, I typically had time on my hands in between interviews. Rather than talk on my cell phone or read a book, I spent my time hanging out with teachers and administrators, just listening and sharing some stories and experiences of my own. Reflecting back on these moments, I think that those afternoons sitting with people did as much as the structured interviews to build trust and show that I cared for and respected them. This tactic was unplanned, yet proved critical. ◾◾ Be the best listener you can be, and trust that the value you bring (at least initially) is grounded in your capacity for creating connections and empathizing, not in the number of books you have read, how smart you are, or how much you would normally charge for your services. Even when you disagree with what you hear—perhaps you’ve observed otherwise or seen differently in another situation—you have to avoid shutting down the speaker in the moment. This is particularly important when you are working with people who are used to being ignored. There are ways to introduce an alternative point of view or interpretation (discussed in detail in the next section), but as a first step toward building trust, my advice is to “shut up and listen.” ◾◾ Value their knowledge over yours. One way to keep the dialogue open and not to shut down a person as she is sharing is to remind yourself, at least temporarily, that she knows more about her own situation, feelings, and context than you do. It is also useful to remember that people often cannot really hear an alternative perspective when they have not had the opportunity to

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fully explore and express their own. Sometimes this means that both sides of a story—theirs and yours—cannot be told in one sitting. In these cases, you need to be the rock and create a safe place in which community members can feel heard; you need to let them go first, and then figure out how you will circle back to the issue as you see it at some later point in time.

Lesson 2: Be Consistent Personally, I do not like conflict. It is awkward, it is painful, and it is emotionally risky. In truth, I have gone to great lengths in my life to avoid conflict, only really getting into it when there is a lot at stake for me—when I deeply care. So my initial objective as a consultant to this administrative team was to help community members to improve in a behavior that I, myself, tended to sidestep. This was ironic, certainly, but not unusual. In fact, it is often the case that we gravitate toward the kinds of problems that have transformative power. If we work through them—put in the time, suffer the discomfort, stay with them even when it is really hard—we come out on the other side, not just with an answer, but also with a hard-won, new way of thinking, doing, or looking at the world. As the opening quote to the chapter implies, we benefit by sticking with useful problems—the ones that we do not solve; the ones that “solve us” (Kegan & Lahey, 2001). The second, and perhaps most significant, challenge to building trust was that engaging in conflict constituted a “useful” problem for me and for the administrators. We shared a promise of tremendous learning, but also the cost of having to do something acutely uncomfortable that required trust—trust in each other and trust in ourselves. In order to help the team grow, we were going to have to create a safe place in which administrators could work through their useful problem. My role would be to support them in that process.

Be a Role Model Luckily—and perhaps because I was a graduate student in psychology during this engagement—I was aware of my issues with conflict. I was equally lucky in that I had close and supportive relationships with my research advisor and fellow student-consultants, all of whom served as sounding boards as I figured out how to lead a difficult process. In order to begin to create a safe place for others, I had to settle on an approach that felt safe for me, too. The method turned out to be doing my best to model the kind

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of trustworthy behavior I wanted the team to develop. “Trustworthy” here meant providing consistent support and being honest; as confronting team members in a way that was direct but also respectful. I had to show them that I was willing and able to sit through the “awkwardness” that comes with interpersonal conflict, and that it was safe to do so. The process began in earnest when I started attending the team’s weekly management meetings. At these engagements, I worked on helping the team write the job descriptions they had requested during the needs assessment. We met for several weeks in a row, but did not make much progress— in fact, we had not written a word. It was in the third meeting that the team finally confronted the “elephant in the room,” acknowledging they had an underlying conflict about roles and responsibilities. In particular, the team was divided about what the rule should be about volunteering for Family Night (a regular dinner the center hosted for parents and children in their community) and that the division of labor among administrators was unfair. This meeting was pivotal according to the team’s own estimation. As the facilitator, I can attest to the discomfort I observed—and felt—during the team’s negotiation, which lasted over an hour. Throughout their discussion, I attempted to model an open and direct confrontation style that was also respectful (and gentle, because—remember—I do not like conflict). The easiest way to explain what I mean by respectful confrontation is to demonstrate through dissection of an actual transcript. What follows is a somewhat paraphrased recounting of the moments leading up to the team’s acknowledgment of the elephant in the room (their words, as you will see). I have identified specific facilitation techniques that I used to both challenge and support team members as they engaged with one another. The left-hand column of Table 6.1 shows my analysis of the conversation. The right-hand column shows the words I used initially to urge team members to focus on each other, directly, and to confront each other. It also shows, in an abbreviated fashion, how team members responded to this challenge and actually took it up, further challenging each other about the “sub-issues” that no one had addressed openly to date. The second table (Table 6.2) shows how, once the team began to acknowledge the underlying conflict, my facilitation approach switched from confrontation to support. As you can see from the analysis below, I attempted to reflect the two competing viewpoints voiced so far. Next, I introduced feelings into the conversation (resentment), and I concluded (or backslid) with a personal story. Talking off topic about my divorce was not a brilliant technique, and I do not recommend that consultants engage in uncensored sharing, but it did serve a purpose in this case (clumsy though it may

80    Beyond the Campus Table 6.1  Elephant in the Room Transcript—The Initial Challenge Facilitation Technique

The Conversation (excerpted from meeting transcript)

I begin by directing the conversation back to being “in the room” (meaning directing their energy not to staff, but to each other in the here and now). I confront the team, drawing on my own experience and observations of them to challenge them to speak more plainly. Team members 1 and 2 assert their position that everybody should volunteer and participate in family night

Consultant: What about your job descriptions? I mean I understand that there are implications for staff, but I don’t know if you’re going to be able to figure that out until you figure out what you guys are doing or not doing around this.

Consultant: What I’m sensing, from standing up here, is that there are things that you guys want and don’t want to do and aren’t saying—I don’t know what we’re negotiating, because I don’t hear anybody saying, “I don’t want to do this,” or “I do want to do that.” TM1: To volunteer your time at the end of the family night needs to put your foot down and be like, “Okay, everybody needs to be there,” or it is not volunteering. TM2: I’m not expecting to get paid for it. I do it because I do it for the center and it should be part of my job. Yes. All of us have to participate—[some] of us do it more than others . . .  TM3: Well that’s the nature of the beast. Some people volunteer and some don’t. TM4: But are there other things that people can do to help . . . get it ready, to go out on their own time to buy supplies, without being here for those hours?

Team members 3 and 4 see the situation differently, and suggest there are other ways to help out than actually attend the event itself. [TM2: It would be nice to have you here at some of Team member 3 them.] eventually confronts TM3: I just think that we have a sub-issue here that her teammates about we’re not dealing with. I think that’s what it is, the “sub-issue” that is because we’re really not getting any specific issue being “danced around,” out and it’s being danced around. . . .  I’m still kind inviting people to of confused. Are we negotiating who and how comment on what is the participates at our level? Who and how participates real problem. at the staff level? Or is it—is it a different problem?

have been): It humanized me, making me less of a distant authority; and it was a way of introducing an interpretation about “invisible work,” which stemmed from my own experience. Support at this juncture in the conversation may have helped team members to feel safe enough to persevere and continue exploring the “real issue.”

Building a Team    81 Table 6.2  Elephant in the Room Transcript—Following Up with Support Facilitation Technique

The Conversation (excerpted from meeting transcript)

I reflect both of the competing perspectives in the room.

Consultant: It sounds like that people are doing a lot of work in different areas and that some people are working very hard, and are really good about attending and putting on family nights, and other people are doing other things and they’re working really hard in other areas, which also might help the center. Consultant: But it sounds like . . . there’s some Then I try to identify resentment or there’s some feeling that they’re the feeling for them not helping each other out and that these things (resentment) and bring aren’t working toward the same goal, or they’re not that out into the open. feeling on the same team about it. That’s what it sounds like to me. Consultant: And so I don’t know I mean if that’s And then I retreat into like a lack of appreciation, or . . . I don’t see you my own personal story do the work. I mean this is a personal aside, (perhaps over sharing) but when I was getting divorced I—I coined the as a way to further term, “invisible work,” which I didn’t want to interpret what I am do anymore. I didn’t want to work at something observing. and not get recognized for that work and I know the kind of resentment that builds up, and it’s reminding me of a lot of invisible—that your work might be invisible to each other. Team member 3 endorses TM3: I think that’s close right there. You know I’m part of this team, but I’m just bewildered my interpretation trying to figure out what the real issue is. We about invisible work, have five different issues on the table right now— elaborates on that with volunteerism vs. mandatory attendance, specific some examples, and jobs to be done just for that event, you know and it’s then circles back to like—it seems like maybe that’s not the real issue. her wish to address the You know? underlying issue.

After offering some support and seeing that some team members were willing to continue their pursuance of the “real issue,” I try to keep the focus of discussion on the conflict underneath the surface, while still being supportive. Table 6.3 shows that I do bring my expertise into the conversation. In this example, I intentionally speak with the voice of authority, but the purpose is to normalize the team’s experience and also to acknowledge that it takes courage to do what they are doing. After invoking my expertise, I immediately make it subordinate to their own experience, establishing them as experts and equals. I then paraphrase what one team member said

82    Beyond the Campus Table 6.3  Elephant in the Room Transcript—Open Conflict Facilitation Technique

The Conversation (excerpted from meeting transcript)

Consultant: I can tell you from what I’ve read and what I know from looking at like clinical models of things—that often times you fight about the surface stuff when there’s something underneath that is bugging you and it takes a lot of courage and time to get underneath. So there might be an underneath thing going on here. Consultant: I’m not sure what it is. You guys would I then privilege their experience over my own know much more than I whatever that is, but it makes it hard to resolve all—those—the questions and try to bring the that pop up first, because there’s something else team into conversation going on. It sounds like you guys think that—at with each other (and least [TM3] says she thinks there’s something out not me) by using TM3’s there. . . . name. TM3: Well, because we spent a good twenty minutes Team member 3 now—and I still don’t know what the issue is about elaborates on why she family nights specifically that we want to talk about, is confused, and for the you know? Because we, you know, we talked about— third time draws the well, if you’re an hourly worker and you’re asked to group’s attention to an stay and then, well no, that’s not the deal because underlying problem. I’d be here anyway—so I don’t know what the problem is . . . TM4: It’s the elephant in the room . . .  Team member 4 finally TM3:  . . . you know? It’s the elephant in the room. states that there is, in fact, an “elephant in the room.” At this point, I do reference my expertise as a way to normalize their experience.

in order to bring the group back into conversation with each other. It is directly after this facilitation attempt that team members say aloud that there is an “elephant in the room.” In rereading the transcripts of team meetings to prepare this chapter, it is clear to me that I made plenty of mistakes as a consultant (it is a little embarrassing, for example, just how many times I did bring the team’s conversation back to me, my divorce, my family, etc.). However, these were small transgressions when examined against the backdrop of the consistent and prosocial facilitation practices that occurred over the two-year period of the engagement. For me, focusing on being a role model and staying aware of my own behavior from week to week (I was diligent about keeping notes and summarizing meetings so that I could monitor my own practices and the team’s growth) was a useful tactic. This approach helped me to avoid

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unintentionally imposing my expertise, gave me a way to draw on my capacity as a human being (not an authority), thereby actively reducing power differentials at every meeting, and ultimately helped me to invite trust in others by being consistently trustworthy myself.

Deliver What You Promised, Even When It Is Hard Meetings like those that the one described above were difficult— challenging for team members and for me as the facilitator. In addition, there were certainly many days when I wanted to take a break or not show up. However, departing from my regular and agreed-upon schedule would have been a serious misstep. One reason that this engagement was as successful as it was is that we were very conscientious about following through on our commitments to the community. The teachers, aides, and administrators of this early education center were accustomed to being overlooked and to being let down—school supplies, food for the children, diapers, and help in the classroom were all frequently promised but often not delivered. This community was disappointed by authority figures on a regular basis. Therefore, it was critically important that we not repeat this pattern. Building and maintaining a foundation of trust required more than the needs assessment and more than the facilitation of a meeting or two. For this administrative team, it meant being on site every week for two years. It meant delivering workshops and trainings (such as an MBTI team building session), attending events (such as family night), and generally being there for an extended period. It also meant pitching in and helping out in any number of ways that mattered to them (which is the subject of the next lesson). As Woody Allen once said, eighty percent of success is just showing up. That willingness to be there and show up consistently helped to demonstrate that we were trustworthy in a way that was meaningful to this community.

Some Things to Try That Worked for Us Looking back on all of the consulting activity that we performed over that two-year period, it is clear that we never stopped trying to cement a foundation of trust. Here are a few things we did that helped us attend to that process on a weekly basis: ◾◾ Show up. This cannot be underestimated. It seems very simple, but life gets complicated quickly, and if your consulting engagement is long-term, it will likely become challenging to keep your

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day-to-day presence in the community a priority. Getting the job done in person, and not solely relying on virtual means to maintain a connection (email, Skype, etc.), is also important for underserved groups, as they often do not have the kind of access to technology enjoyed in the corporate world. So be there. ◾◾ Start small. I wrote at some length about my own challenges taking on this engagement due to my own issues surrounding conflict. You may not share this particular apprehension, but teamwork is interpersonal work; therefore, it is likely that you will encounter some challenge that touches you in a personal way and complicates your work as a consultant. If you find yourself in this situation, remember that it is okay to start small. Just showing up consistently is already doing a lot to create trust, and it is okay to build on that practice, gradually trying new tactics. For me, in this case, I grounded myself on modeling specific behaviors, because that was something I could control and focus on and for which community members could give direct feedback. It worked for me. If you are stuck, just breathe, and try to make a small change that feels manageable. ◾◾ Be aware of yourself. As I said, working with a team will inevitably require you to engage interpersonally, and it will push one (or more) of your buttons. You need to be aware of yourself and what your hot buttons are—you cannot help others unless you can help yourself, too. The support of my own community within the university setting was invaluable; self-awareness is much easier to achieve when others around you can call you on your behavior! You will need to try new approaches as the team develops and you need to evolve and reinforce that foundation of trust—having others who can help you to keep tabs on yourself and who can give you feedback and encouragement is very helpful.

Lesson 3: When in Doubt, Bake Cookies The foundation of trust we built by being consistent helped the team move from identifying the elephants in the room, where merely raising a conflict was the major accomplishment, to throwing tomatoes, where outcomes included productively working through a conflict and actually feeling good about the conversation. Following their lead by focusing on job descriptions rather than conflict resolution, and by being as consistent as we could with our own behavior and commitments, we were able to develop community members’ trust in each other, in us, and in the process. As a result, and

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despite the fact that they initially wished to avoid conflict, team members ended up finding a way to bring their conflict to the surface, where it could be openly discussed. However, the work was not yet done. The last challenge I will address in this chapter is to resist the temptation, when you are trying to help, to treat others as you would have them treat you. This “golden rule” of thumb is almost instinctive, yet in this case, it was potentially problematic.

Rethink the Golden Rule Most people would colloquially define empathy as the act of taking somebody else’s perspective—the ability to understand another’s feelings, situation, or point of view. Academically, we can define empathy as an “affective response more appropriate to another’s situation than one’s own” (Hoffman, 2000). There is nothing wrong with these definitions—empathy is a fundamental building block for all relationships and for building trust. The difficulty comes, however, in how we follow through on our empathic response—what we do about it. The Golden Rule would tell us that once we discern the feeling or situation of another person, we should then act in such a way as we would want another to act, were we in that situation or had that feeling. However, the reality is—and this is particularly relevant if you are working across classes or cultures—that you may feel what others feel, but that does not mean they want the same kind of support that you would in their shoes. If your goal is to show another person that you truly understand, do not do what you would want him or her to do for you, figure out what they want and do that. Let me give you an example of rethinking the Golden Rule. I love to eat, but I am always on a diet; I try not to snack at work and so I really do not want food in meetings. However, food was important to this community, and not because they had emotional eating problems, but rather because they actually did not have that much food at home. When the administrators were planning family nights, they bought hot dogs because they did not have the budget for hamburger. It was not uncommon in management meetings to spend time sharing strategies about how to get more baby formula through the food stamp program, how to lower your electricity bill by keeping only one light on in the house or how to come up—somehow—with the necessary supplies for classrooms that were routinely under-stocked. When I began this engagement, I assumed that I would add value by sharing my expertise and academic knowledge. Nevertheless, I quickly learned that I could more immediately add value by feeding the team (fol-

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lowing the lead of the ED, who always brought something for everyone to eat at meetings). I was unsure of how to help and wondered if all of our work was actually having an impact in many instances. Therefore, in times of doubt, I baked cookies. Moreover, they were appreciated. I also learned to help out in other ways that mattered to the administrators and their community—I provided childcare for center events; I showed up to help and bake (again) for their various fundraising activities; when I was invited to their holiday parties and to barbeques at their homes, I went. In addition, when they offered to pay my way for any events that required a ticket, because they wanted me to be their guest, I accepted. None of this is what I had in mind or expected at the onset of the consultation, but following through and meeting the team members on their terms showed them that I cared, could understand, and was committed. In addition, I made some good cookies in the process (the favorite: oatmeal with white chocolate chips and dried cranberries).

Treat Them as They Would Want to be Treated, so They Can Learn to Do This for Each Other Evolving the Golden Rule in this way is one behavior that we learned to consistently model in our interactions with the team. We also observed evidence that team members likewise changed how they treated each other over the course of the engagement. For example, we examined administrators’ use of internal state language (Dunn, Bretherton, & Munn, 1987), which refers to the words team members used to express their feelings, thoughts, or desires, or to identify the feelings, thoughts, and wishes of others, at two times: during the first notable conflict where they acknowledged the elephant in the room, and then during a second conflict that occurred nearly a year later, during the “tomato meeting.” In the initial elephant-inthe-room conflict, administrators tended to express a single kind of internal state: The ED favored cognitive words (think, understand, remember, etc.), whereas other directors tended to use emotion (feel, happy, annoy, etc.) or volition words (want, wish, etc.). In the second conflict, every team member shifted the kinds of words they used to express themselves or to empathize with others, in effect creating a common language through which emotion, thoughts, and desires were voiced much more equally by every person (Austin & Harkins, 2009). They came to match each other’s speaking style: Rather than saying things in a way that would suit them, individually, they learned to speak in a way that would resonate with and feel supportive to their other team members.

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As with the elephant in the room conflict, the quality of the changes in conversation can be best illustrated by providing some examples of how team members engaged with each other. Table 6.4 shows how the second conflict began. The center had rented out space to a local charter school (to help balance the budget), and the team was discussing how to share supplies. They needed to set up a new classroom at the center, but did not have all of the necessary equipment, in part because the ED had lent some items to the charter school. The “tomato” conflict arose because one administrator needed shelving for the new classroom, which was not available. Several features of this excerpt are very different from those noticed in the first conflict. First, you can see that I was not saying much in this excerpt (aside from identifying feelings). Such was the pattern throughout the conflict. Therefore, the team was doing the majority of the “facilitation” work Table 6.4  The Tomato Meeting Transcript—Raising the Conflict The Conversation (excerpted from meeting transcript) TM1: When am I getting my shelves? Because I can’t like really put that room together without shelves . . .  ED: I’m going to give you a gift, probably this weekend—Monday or Tuesday—I’m building a shelf and I will be giving it to you . . .  TM1: [Sighs] I want my shelves . . .  ED: I don’t really want to get into that . . .  TM4: I don’t either, but [the charter school] said until their stuff comes in— they were supposed to order the stuff in September . . .  ED: No! [raises voice] TM4: Yes! They were supposed to order this . . . yes! ED: Why is this such a big deal? TM1: Because I want mine, and it has to be hard! [Bangs table. Laughs.] ED: You can take the [shelf] that’s in 127 . . . there’s not a problem with saying, “Okay, you can use this one until the stuff comes in so we can take these back.” That’s not a big problem. TM1: I know, but it’s just the point of it all that you would make me wait. Us wait . . . [laughs] . . .  Consultant: Are you like mad about something else, is that why? TM4: No, I think that . . . TM1: Yes! The point that we would have to be put out, and because of the charter school . . . Consultant: That’s why all the affect . . . TM4: Okay, I’ll say. I feel like [the executive director] is not backing us up right there, on that . . . 

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themselves. In fact, one team member noted in her closing interview, postintervention, that she was not even very aware of me in this meeting as the team was so engaged with each other “watching those tomatoes fly.” You can also see in this excerpt that team members were speaking to each other very directly—letting the ED know they wanted the shelves she had promised, explaining how they felt “put out” and were not feeling supported or being “backed up” and confronting each other about being “mad.” At this point in time, after more than a year of hard work, team members were able to show their emotions in an open way, raising their voices and speaking with heightened affect when they felt strongly, but doing so in a way that was grounded in trust and essentially respectful. The second and final transcript excerpt (Table 6.5) shows how the conversation in Table 6.4 evolved. Notice that, as the consultant, I remained silent. Also notice how the team moves from speaking emotionally (punctuated by exclamation points) to explaining their feelings and perspectives at greater lengths and in more measured ways. They also attempt not just to state their own points of view, but also to take each other’s into consideration (“I understand,” “it’s not your fault”), showing that they are both listening to one another and being emotionally honest. The behavior evidenced in the tomato meeting transcript excerpts— openly and respectfully disagreeing with each other, expressing feelings, taking one another’s perspectives—is made possible when there is a foundation of trust. From that base of trust, referring back to Lencioni’s (2002) pyramid, we can see the team’s progress in overcoming their fear of conflict, showing each other they were committed to the team and community, taking responsibility and ultimately achieving better results than they had been able to do previously. I conducted a final round of interviews at the end of the consulting engagement to capture team members’ reflections on the process and outcome of our work. It was through these interviews that administrators identified the elephant and tomato meetings as turning points for the team. They also noted how different the two meetings felt, and how much progress they had made. In the words of one director: I mean two years ago was rough, and I want to say I could probably sit here and tell you problem after problem after problem, and it’s not that we don’t have issues and don’t have problems today, but I’m not thinking anything is so big right now that we’re not dealing with it well. . . .  The team has gotten better, a hundred percent better.

Building a Team    89 Table 6.5  The Tomato Meeting Transcript—Working through the Conflict The Conversation (excerpted from meeting transcript) ED: I’m doing the best I can . . . it doesn’t help me, frankly, when every time I have to put the charter school on the agenda . . . you’re down my throat before I even get something out . . . TM1: That’s the way they make us feel . . .  ED: Okay, I understand that. The other piece is that there’ve been many times when they’ve come to me about wanting to do A, B, C or D and I’ll say, “I’ll take a look at it,” and I go back and say, “No, you can’t do it” . . .  . . . um, and maybe I should—you know I haven’t you know come back with everything that I’ve said, “No you can’t do this” or “you can’t do that”—I don’t come back to everybody here and have all of those discussions. So when I bring this up and I figure that there’s a way to solve this to be helpful to both it doesn’t mean that—every time we do this I feel like you know you’re jumping on me, I’m—it’s hard for me to kind of keep doing this. I know that you want to open up the room I know you want those shelves back—those shelves will get back to you with—as quickly as I can . . .  TM1: I think it’s upsetting to us like when that whole thing was brought up like [charter school teacher] talking to all of [center administrator’s] staff instead of you . . .  . . . you went in and you talked to her, you came back to us in a meeting and said, “We had a good meeting, I got my point across.” Wonderful. The next day she was talking to the teachers again. Did she listen to . . . ? Not that it’s your fault, but . . .  ED: . . . but I didn’t know that until I’m sitting here right now . . . TM1: . . . that aggravates us . . . because she’s not listening to you . . . TM4: . . . and she’s not respecting that . . . TM1: . . . and you think—you think everything went well . . .  ED: All right, but then I need to know about it, because then I’m going to go off like I’m going off right now . . . and I don’t like it . . .  TM2: I know . . . maybe I need to hear that you’re actually telling them “No” to something . . . I don’t know, just to kind of be like, “Okay, she is on our side about some things” . . . 

Overall, the center administrators felt that the quality of relationships among team members had greatly improved. In their interviews, they said they were working better with their peers, but they also remarked on how their relationship with the ED had become more open, trusting, and supportive. As one team member described it:

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Some Things to Try That Worked for Us The final set of tactics that I recommend in relation to building trust through empathy include being open and being willing to change, yourself: ◾◾ Be open. As I have described, I did not expect that baking cookies (or babysitting) would be necessary for completing my dissertation work. However, I came to understand that, in order to make an impact, I would need to be open to other ideas about what kind of help was actually meaningful to this community. Had I not been willing to consider unexpected ways of showing my support, I would not have been able to develop the kinds of interpersonal bonds with the administrators that I did. It was the strength of my relationship with team members, more than my expertise, that gave me the permission to ask them to persevere week after week. ◾◾ Be flexible. Being open to change was necessary for progress, but not sufficient. It was equally important that I acted on what I learned, which required me to be flexible in multiple ways. Baking cookies is a good example, and one that is specific to this community and this engagement, but it may not be an appropriate or desirable form of support for the team you are trying to build. Therefore, I would encourage you to examine your own empathic response and, when you feel you need to be supportive, pause to think about what would matter most to your client. Do not reflexively do what would matter to you, but figure out what would mean the most to them, and then do that.

Reflections Upon reflection and in conclusion, I have to acknowledge that much of what happened during our engagement with the administrative team was a surprise. I did not plan on it taking two years, I didn’t expect that my basic capacity for understanding and caring and empathy would matter more than my years of previous consulting experience, and I didn’t anticipate that this work would change me, as a person. But as Kegan and Lahey

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(2001) instruct: “It is very hard to lead on behalf of other people’s changes in their underlying ways of making meaning without considering the possibility that we ourselves must also change” (p. 3). As it turned out, I was wrong in many ways, but happily so. The change we were attempting to affect was significant, and we wanted that change to be sustainable for the community. This meant that every person involved had to challenge her assumptions, had to shift his thinking at a deep level, and had to learn to act differently—including me.

Appendix Needs Assessment Themes Presented to all center employees to validate, get feedback and generate dialogue. All themes were identified by interviewees (n = 27, 45% of all employees) as being “important” for the center and as areas for improvement. Theme descriptors were compiled from detailed interview notes, contain actual words of employees, and were meant to capture how the community defined what was important to them. Trust/Openness: A willingness to have, or a security in, the feeling that we can open up to each other. Lack of trust contributes to the feeling that we have to “hold back,” “watch what we say,” or that we cannot admit mistakes or ask for help without others doubting our competence, or in some way using this against us. Sometimes we doubt each other’s motives and intentions. Respect/Understanding: A feeling that we hold each other in high regard—that all of our opinions, ideas, and feelings “matter” to one another. A sense that our work is appreciated and is understood. That we can “see” each other (and be “seen”) without being judged. Lack of respect may look like others do not appreciate or understand what we go through every day, or how hard we try to do a good job. It feels like others “have no idea” (and may not care) about our work and our effort. Empowerment: Placing the authority and resources to make decisions with those of us who execute the day-to-day. We have the power, control, and authority to do a good job. Decisions are made inclusively—so we all understand (and can support) the reasons behind them. We take responsibility for our work and help others get what they need to take responsibility, too. When we look around the organization, we feel confident that others have the knowledge, training, and experience to make the decisions and take the action that is required in their jobs.

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When we are not empowered, we see “higher ups” making decisions we don’t understand—our ideas and perspectives are not asked for, acted on, or valued. We feel we do not have the power to accomplish what is expected of us, and we often feel that things are “out of control”—others have more of a “say” about our work than we do. We try to hold on to as much control as we can, because people around us are not “qualified” to have this control. Role/Job Clarity: We clearly understand what is expected of us—what our job is, and what it is not (we have job descriptions). We feel we have a good understanding of the roles other people play—what we can expect of them and how they contribute to the organization. There is a sense that work is distributed fairly and reasonably. Lack of job or role clarity may result in confusion—we don’t know where one job ends and another begins. We aren’t sure what we should be able to expect from each other, and worry that other people aren’t doing their job. Identity: Who Are We? In the largest sense, we know what this organization is about and who we are. There is a sense of shared vision, and the vision is motivating—we can all participate in it, and we know what we can do to help achieve it. When we are struggling to understand “who we are” or what we are “trying to be,” we spend a lot of time and energy trying to balance hopes and expectations with the reality of the day-to-day. We see contradictions between what we’re trying to do and what we have to do to “survive.” We may feel that we are at crossed purposes with each other, and even within ourselves, which can be demotivating and stressful. Direction/Leadership: Everyone here knows and understands what the goals of the organization are, and where we are going. We feel that our day-to-day activities are prioritized so that we all contribute to meeting our goals. There is a sense that we are all working in concert toward a common purpose. When we have to act “in the moment,” we feel we can “make a call” that’s in line with the organization’s priorities and overall direction. When we lack direction, it is hard to prioritize the day-to-day. We lack a sense of common purpose in our work, and immediate and future goals can seem confusing, or even contradictory. Standards: We clearly understand what it means to “do a good job” here. We have guidelines and procedures we can uphold and that we believe in, and these help us to make good decisions. Everybody knows the “rules,” and is comfortable applying them across situations. When we don’t have standards, it is hard to be sure we are doing a good job. It is hard to make “good” decisions, and we have to spend a lot

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of time figuring out “what to do.” We worry that rules are applied differently depending on the situation, and it seems like the rules change over and over again. Back up/Support: We know that if we need to take a stand that the organization and our coworkers are behind us. We know that people “are there” for us—either to listen or to take steps on our behalf. We believe that our bosses are behind us, trying to help us and give us what we need. When we are not supported or backed up, we feel we can’t count on our coworkers to “be there” for us when we need them. We see that people will not follow through when we ask for help. Sometimes we lose faith that people really care; some people seem to “count” more than others. Walking the Talk/Consistency: When our actions align with our words, when our behavior is consistent with our values, when we act with integrity. We feel confident that we are direct and honest with each other—we get straightforward answers to questions and promises, and confidences are kept. We’d rather tell people the truth—even if it will disappoint or upset them—rather than be indirect. When what we say is not consistent with what we do, we give “mixed messages.” We may say different things to different people and focus more on not hurting feelings or avoiding consequences than on saying what matters most. We may worry that others are not truthful with us. We may feel we promise things, but can’t deliver. Communication: When communication is “good,” everyone gets the information they need in a timely way; information is clear. We feel we are listened to, and we know we have been heard because others take positive action based on what’s been said. We feel comfortable that communication here is a “two-way street,” and that we can talk about our work in constructive ways. When we are not communicating well, we do not get all the information we need to do a good job. We may feel people listen to us, but we don’t see anything “happening” after conversations. Oftentimes, it feels that bosses “tell” us things, and don’t want to hear what we have to say. It is hard to talk about things related to work in a way that’s helpful or professional—work issues feel very personal, and there is a lot of gossip. Learning/Professional Development: In this organization, we place a high value on learning from each other and sharing ideas and information. We feel very comfortable asking for and receiving help from people at all levels of the organization. We feel we can make suggestions and hear other people’s suggestions without being offended. If we make mistakes, we are not worried about getting in trouble, but view them as an opportunity to make the organization and ourselves better. We feel that we have a

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voice, and that everybody is heard equally, and that everyone is given the same opportunity to grow, to learn from mistakes, and to develop themselves professionally. When we are not open to learning, feedback and suggestions are seen negatively and tend to indicate a “problem.” We are reluctant to make suggestions or offer help, because we think that others will take it “the wrong way.” We see conflict as something to be avoided, and try to protect ourselves from criticism. When we look around the organization, we see “walls” and “barriers”—it is hard to know who you can say what to. Sometimes it seems some people are given more chances to learn or improve than others. Community: We are a strong community. We feel that we are all a part of something, that we “belong,” and that we’re sharing in something together. This place feels “close,” and we feel connected to each other—like a family. We see how we’re connected to the larger community, of which this organization is a part. There is a strong sense of teamwork, camaraderie, and working together. When our sense of community isn’t strong, we feel isolated and alone. When we look around the organization, we see a lot of separate groups and cliques. A lot of the time, we feel we are “on our own,” and that people are working against each other.

7 Power Dynamics What to Listen For and How to Ask Good Questions Power is not an institution, and not a structure; neither is it a certain strength we are endowed with; it is the name that one attributes to a complex strategic situation in a particular society. —Foucault (1980)

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hy study power inside an organization? How does it relate to being an engaged scholar? Clearly, when professionals in higher education decide to work with the communities there are many implied power dynamics. The mere action of “helping” connotes a hierarchical relationship. Our goal was one of shared power. Nevertheless, we must ask ourselves how power plays out inside an engaged partnership, how well we did at minimizing hierarchy, and what we learned in the process. We started thinking about power because the voices of those working at the center led us here. Specifically, the words of the ED were crucial, as staff members spoke of how they felt in connection to the larger framework of their parent organization. They described feeling “marginalized and minimized” in relation to a broader system, disempowered, and powerless. This

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is not uncommon for many people working in the early childcare profession—these individuals may be less respected than most educators and yet are expected to put in long hours for little pay, and to do so without complaint. Early educators provide a valuable service to young children, but it is a service not afforded great privilege in the societal spectrum. Finally, the issue of gender is implicated. Many early educators are women, and despite substantial advances, our society is still primarily a patriarchal system in which males and masculinity enjoy a greater degree of power and privilege. Of course, this is a simplistic analysis, and some women are better able to exercise power than some men are. Yet, for the purposes of our project, the underprivileged status of early childhood education and female gender can largely be understood as a major reason for the frequent inability of early educators to exert power. Almost everyone at every level of the center was a woman. As such, power was a very real issue in the life of each team member, whether or not it was consciously recognized. Power is a broad and complex construct. Though we may think that we understand it, in reality, power is not as easily defined as we might imagine. One contention (Ronayne & Harkins, 2008) is that power is best understood as a concept that exists through relationships. Power cannot exist in a vacuum; we need another individual to be affected by our exercise of it. You can have all the power in the world, but it means nothing if you are marooned, alone, on an island. Foucault (1980) provides a relational perspective on power, a lens through which we can examine issues that arose during our collaboration with the center. His view is that power is an inescapable presence in our society. Therefore, everyone is both powerful and powerless, depending on the situation. At times, an individual can exercise her power and at others, she cannot. Certainly, this is a dominant view of power, and what one might consider the traditional perspective. The literature on power typically dichotomizes the concept as either “power-over” or “power-to” domains. Traditional conceptualizations have defined it in language of dominance. The power-over model would suggest that power is the ability to get another person to do something even in the face of resistance. Weber (1978), Dahl (1953), and Lukes (1974) all speak of power as something that one holds over another. However, Lukes (1974) endorses a view of social power that is multidimensional. In this model, several levels of power interact to shape the environment of one person in relation to another (Lukes, 1974; Parenti, 1978). Feminists (Held, 1993; Miller, 1987) speak of influential forms of power, or power-to. That is, leaders do not seek to dominate, but rather to cre-

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ate growth in the individual. Miller (1987) rejects the notion of power as an act, which forces another to do something, instead seeing it as acting with the other person to assist in their development. Similarly, Held (1993) speaks of power as empowering another, transforming, such as a mother might do. This is a relational examination of power, and theoretically, such a model stands in contrast to the dominant views of power. Consultants, as with others in helping professions, can employ either dominant or relational power approaches. The way that they exercise their power will be reflected in those terms. If the consultants feel they are the experts, they are likely to engage in dominant, top-down activities. In contrast, if they seek to influence, they will engage in techniques that return the decision-making power to the consultation group. This is one of the ways in which power can be exercised by the consultant. Certainly, the multidimensional yet dominant view of power also holds at its core a relational component. Lukes (1974) and Parenti (1978) have argued that an important aspect of power is that those in positions endowed with more power have the ability to shape the debate or argument as it is perceived by those in positions with less influence. Culley and Hughey (2008) suggest, rather generally, that this argument is similar to the views of Freire (1970). More explicitly, Freire refers to the unique power position of the oppressed and the need for true social change to come from that level. The similarity is the relational nature of oppressed to oppressor; that is, one cannot exist without the other. Further, it is the oppressor who defines the situation, and the oppressed must learn to move beyond the frames presented to him. The traditional construction of power leads us to ideas that suggest hierarchy is more valuable than flat power structures (Ronayne & Harkins, 2008). Salem, Reischl, and Randall (2008) discuss the problem that exists when consensus-based organizations, such as self-help groups, merge with traditional professional mental health organizations. The self-help groups may lack financial resources to act in stand-alone capacities and therefore require the more secure footing of the professional organization. However, such action comes with a price that steers the self-help groups away from a flat power model. Most community organizations face competition between a desire to be mission-centric and the need to be financially sound. This may translate to power struggles within the organization. Additionally, we must look at gender, race, class and other sociocultural variables to explore the role that those intersections may have when expressed. There are many arguments that one could make in relation to understanding how status (power given through our roles) can affect the

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ability to express or exercise that power. Certainly, there are roles, which we view as having more power than others have; for instance, a student–teacher dynamic comes to mind. We might be tempted to assume that regardless of how power is exercised in the classroom all teachers have an equal ability to exercise it. If we assume that the teacher role always bestows power, and that what changes is whether you define it as power-over or power-to, then we are still missing many other dimensions of the concept. Would a White male teacher in a classroom of White males be afforded the same capacity to express his power as an African American teacher in the same classroom? If we were to simply reduce the argument and say that a role gives one power and a choice as to how to exercise it, then we might assume that expressing such power is merely a matter of using your voice effectively. However, a more nuanced view would lead us fully to examine both the perspective of the students and the teachers alike in order to understand this complex relationship. It is important to remember that when this project began, the goal was to assist teachers in learning conflict resolution. At the heart of this partnership was the desire to improve the lives of the children who were served by the center. How do studying power dynamics within this organization realize this goal? It is very likely, though difficult to determine, since children were not explicitly part of this study, that if the adults in the program were feeling disempowered, the children were as well. That is, the families and children were from a relatively low socioeconomic status, affording them less power within the broader social spectrum. Children, more than any other group, are probably granted the least power in our society, as they have very little voice or say in what happens in their own worlds. One step to begin to improve children’s lives is to determine how we can make sure that those who serve them feel as though they have space, voice, and a role to play in their own environments. An ironic aspect of this brief exploration of power is that it is those whose voices have the greatest weight—scholars, academics, psychologists—who have been constructing its meaning. How can we seek to understand such a multifaceted construct with all of its relational nuances if the only voices talking about power are those with the most privilege? This is why it is critical that we listen to all voices present in a consulting collaboration, and that we ask ourselves how well we gave space to everyone. Is this always possible? Are there other factors that may interfere with the expression of power? We know that our goal throughout this project was to create a partnership. Did we do that? We can look at the traditional college classroom

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if we want a very clear example of power relations. The instructor in the college setting is in the power position, and students experience relatively less power. The hope for many teachers is that students leave their course empowered. However, for that to happen, professors would be forced to examine a variety of issues. They would need to address the weight of their own power, and how the design of most courses does not lead to any kind of power minimization. The issue of perception depends on the individuals involved in a relationship. Students may not perceive that they have power (e.g., because they are being assessed), and therefore may fail to exercise their power (e.g., in the form of the teacher evaluation/assessment). They may be conditioned to an environment where the rules suggest that their voices do not matter. Freire explicitly states that most educational models are based on what he calls “the banking method,” in which the teacher (more powerful role) gives information to the students (less powerful role), and they repeat that information back. In his view, the banking method is not transformational and would be representative of a dominant exercise of power. However, teachers can choose to exercise power in a more transformational way, allowing students better to express their power. Yet students’ perceptions that they can indeed exercise power are also critical. [T]he point of departure must be with men and women in the here and now, which constitutes the situation in which they are submerged, from which they must emerge and in which they intervene . . . to do this authentically they must perceive their state not as fated and unalterable, but merely as limiting and therefore challenging. (Freire, 1998)

This serves as an example of why it is not only the exercise of power but also the perceptions of those with less ability to express it that may define the situation. Similarly, hooks (2003) argued that while there may be instances in which no one directly states the rules of the classroom, children are taught by example and reinforced by reward. “As silence and obedience to authority were most rewarded, students learned that this was the appropriate demeanor in the classroom” (hooks, 2003). Therefore, in order for individuals to recognize their ability to express power, it may be necessary to create an environment that engenders in them the perception that they can do so. In an engaged collaboration, it is essential that we not only try to act as partners, but that we also foster an environment in which everyone feels equal. Again, as consultants we must ask ourselves how well we did. We also have to remember that the university partners brought with them their own experiences of power and privilege. Some may not have

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been aware that they were coming from positions of higher status than those at the center. Some may not have felt, as was the case with at least one undergraduate student, that they had as much power as other members of the university team. Given all that we know about power and our sincere desire to work collaboratively, we have to ask: How do campus partners address the volatile and divisive issues of social justice, equity, and diversity without alienating their community partners? Given that these issues often revolve around a lack of willingness to listen to voices representative of underprivileged or marginalized perspectives, campus partners must be especially wary not to perpetuate the inequitable sociopolitical power dynamics of the society, which may also operate within the organization (Carucci & Tetenbaum, 2000). How did our action-focused approach work around the unconscious dimensions of power and privilege manifested within this community, within the campus team, and across the campus–community collaboration? Moreover, how did we use our own relatively privileged social positions to model systemic social change? In this chapter, we explore lessons we learned that led to some—community members and us included—feeling like we failed in this important area. Although diversity is central to the teaching and consulting of most members of the consulting team, we managed to miss some critical opportunities that we share here in the hopes that others seeking to address issues of diversity with organizations learn from our mistakes. Lessons learned include: (1) acknowledging power and privilege, (2) acknowledging difference, and (3) being aware of perpetuating sociohistorical inequalities. We address each of these lessons in turn.

Lesson 1: Acknowledge Power and Privilege Employing the model of an action-oriented collaboration can be challenging when a community partner is expecting an expert to tell her what to do. As Schein (1987) has pointed out, expert consulting proves useful in certain situations, and we agree. However, we believe that empowermentfocused collaborations are more consistent with the goals of mission-driven communities, especially when one considers that “diversity issues” in communities are a microcosm of the power differences that exist in contemporary society. If we acknowledge that many social injustices continue to exist modernly, then we must be wary not to perpetuate such injustices in our consulting work. Central to this approach is consultants’ acknowledgement of the opportunity that they have to use their power to provide space to those tradition-

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ally silenced in communities, in organizations, and in society (Harkins, Ray, & Davis, 2010). Given that all knowledge is multi-authored, multi-owned, and multidimensional (Foucault, 1980; Freire, 1981, 1988; Giroux, 2005; hooks, 1994), we believe that all voices in the room must be valued and heard. This consulting approach reflects this inclusive perspective. At the heart of many issues related to diversity lies an experience of powerlessness, of being overlooked, obscured, or trivialized by those who have more sociopolitical or socioeconomic power. The ED of this early education center once explained that overall, teachers and staff felt “marginalized and minimized” in relation to the broader system of which they were a part. It is not a far leap to conclude that, for some, such a feeling extended to their roles within the educational center and beyond.

Lesson 2: Acknowledge Difference A major goal of the community engagement was to eliminate feelings of powerlessness and to create a space in which everyone had a voice. Our work (Austin & Harkins, 2008b; Ronayne, Harkins, Austin, & Sharicz, 2010) has demonstrated that movement from top-down models in which campus partners hold the most power in the room to ones that allow community partners to take more responsibility result in a greater distribution of power among the collaborative partners. In working with this early learning center, our goal was to create structural change that would allow everyone to have a voice regarding the center’s issues. This aspiration mirrored our experiences in the higher education environments with undergraduate students (Harkins et al., 2010). It could be that we succeeded because modifications, such as when campus partners abdicate power, are more likely to create real and meaningful growth in terms of the diverse needs of the community. That said, significant areas existed in which design, omission, and status differences surrounding diversity issues were hard to avoid, neglected, and/or difficult to negotiate. Did we acknowledge all issues of diversity during our community engagement? Unfortunately, no! Hindsight reveals we did not fully invest in the action-oriented approach to address the issues of power and privilege that permeate our community work. These lessons led to extensive individual and team reflection. We share our insights here so that future university partners might achieve heightened awareness of these issues when engaged in community-level diversity work. Below are some examples of what we missed during our engagement. Women comprise the largest percentage (97%) of early childhood educators in the United States. In Europe, despite a movement to raise the

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number of men in early childhood education to 20% by 2007, the result was a drop from 5% to 3% (Peeters, 2007). We could frame this question in one of two ways: Why so many women? Alternatively, we can ask why so few men? Answers likely vary depending on gender of responder. Pay for workers in early education settings is generally poor, with preschool teachers being the most undervalued. It could be that this low pay relates directly to “women’s work.” It is also a stereotypical assumption that nurturing the young child is something that only women do well. This generalization contrasts with a professed desire to see more fathers in our society take an active role in parenting (i.e., nurturing) their children. Studies that examine the role of men in early childhood education suggest that, counter to traditional feminist notions of patriarchy, the real problem may be in the inability of the culture to welcome men (Ashcraft & Severier, 2006; DiMarco, 2009; Gaskell & Mullen, 2006; Jones, 2009; Keddie & Matartino, 2008; Mills, 2009; Smedley, 2007). The trend of female majority in early childhood classrooms relates to the prevalence of activities that women and girls prefer, which tend to avoid rough and tumble play (Wardle, 2004), and emphasize quieter and less messy play. The presence of men in the early childhood education experience could be of great value to boys. Moreover, looking at gender diversity in this manner can be beneficial to women as well. If we continue to stereotype the profession as female-only, then we perpetuate the myth that only women can nurture children and that while women can work outside the home, they are really best suited to work that is related to the home. For us as campus partners, it was interesting to consider what men inside the early childhood education center might want. Subsequent reflection post-engagement revealed that we failed to address the role that the one male had in the center. Unfortunately, we could not follow up with this man after project completion as he had resigned from his position at the center. Research meetings (attended mostly by women) addressed the impact of a male employee, but not in terms of what might have been missing for him. Our focus was more on how there was little we could actually say about gender because gender diversity simply did not exist.

Lesson 3: Beware of Perpetuating Socio-Historical Inequalities Diversity consulting requires an approach that includes: (1) critical questioning of truth, (2) looking beyond stereotypes, (3) having room for exploration within group differences, (4) being color conscious, (5) being

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comfortable with ambivalence, and (6) engaging in experiential learning. For example, exploring the sociopolitical history of why individuals at the top rung of organizations, universities, and classrooms are white while those lower on the ladder tend to be persons of color, must guide the work of the privileged trainer and consultant. Engaging in community diversity work must be inclusive and meet the needs of all members of a community. Campus partners must be mindful of the fact that men in an environment such as an early education center may feel as disempowered in a way similar to what women experience in the larger societal context. Such a community is, after all, representative of a different culture; women in groups may work together differently than groups of men. One way to eradicate discrepancies between men and women in the nonprofit, early education field may in fact lie in our ability to understand how gender affects organizational issues. This could mean that as campus partners we need to avoid our own tendencies to view men within the workplace who complain or express contrary opinions as engaging in aggressive behavior or “flexing their muscles.” It could be that when the man in the community with which we worked dissented, he was expressing a legitimate complaint, perhaps born out of a feeling of alienation from the center’s culture. During the engagement, we were aware that gender was a problem area; however, we failed to address it. Gender issues are particularly striking when considering gender ratios within nonprofits. Across the United States, women make up 75% of the 8.7 million people employed as nonprofit staff. However, they make up only 45% of the leadership.1 Furthermore, the larger the operational budget of the nonprofit organization, the smaller the percentage of women in charge—female leadership dwindles to 21% when the budget climbs above $25 million. The 2007 White House Project report further suggested that women might enter the nonprofit world in greater numbers because they can afford to earn less (i.e., they are supported by male wage earners). Finally, the disparity between what women can earn between the for-profit and nonprofit worlds is not as great as it is for men, ostensibly attracting more women to the latter sector. Gender issues within nonprofits reveal the complexity of addressing these unspoken, sociopolitical dynamics that are at play throughout the workplace environment. Another opportunity for growth that we regrettably missed during our intervention involved teachers from nondominant cultures. A case study analysis of interviews with three teachers conducted over a two-year period demonstrated cultural differences in interview dynamics between a campus partner involved in the project and the teachers (Nyguen, Ronayne & Har-

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kins, 2010; Ronayne & Harkins, 2008). The teachers with whom we worked were of African American, Asian American, and Caucasian backgrounds. Through content analyses, we found that we were more likely to ask the Asian American teacher if she took a specific action than we were to question the non-Asian teachers. This Asian immigrant woman also participated less during the interview, speaking in briefer phrases than her African American and Caucasian counterparts do. We also explored whether there were differences in how the teachers handled conflict with other adults at the center, as well as with children. As we examined transcripts of the interviews, it became apparent that while all three women experienced conflict with adults and children, they spoke about it very differently during consultation. Our experience with teachers from diverse backgrounds illustrates the complexity of their experience with us. The marginalized status and poverty that these teachers experienced, complicated by issues of race, language, class, immigration status, and professional/educational status, created further barriers for collaboration. Revealed in some of the themes, these obstacles emerged during interviews and included yearning for better connection from teacher to interviewer and the interviewer focusing on the objectives of the study and not on what the teacher was saying. It should be noted that the interviewer herself was a graduate student trying to achieve clear objectives associated with traditional research. She struggled to understand the Asian immigrant teacher, and was not looking to connect but to obtain data. This is another challenge when doing collaborative work yet trying to live within traditional academic lines. Certainly, one fix could have been to find a native speaker to interpret during the interview. Below is an excerpt from the interview with the Asian immigrant teacher as she expresses feelings of powerlessness in her role: Yeah. Because they, I know, they’s [aides] no help us like that. Yeah, that’s hard work for the staff. Give the lead teacher um, space, yeah. We get oh, get tired and we get depressed is it, right? (Depressed?) Yes, (sighs). Yes, cause um, your assistant is not uh, is not do the good things. Um, And them say, the director, “Not everything come to the director. You guys need to take care of that by yourself.” But, yeah, what are, what are we supposed to do? I don’t know.

Power Dynamics    105 Yeah, um, you go to them [directors]. You got something to say about the assistant. They just say, “Eh, you guys are teacher in the room. You get that.” Maybe you give them the rights for the teacher. Okay, teacher can handle by themselves. But, we, we’re, we just don’t let, let the teacher know what today they have the assistant a lot. They don’t know, the teacher don’t know what time they assistant should be coming. And one time you take them out of the room and sometimes they take uh the lunch break take one and a half hour. We don’t know if it’s over, over time or not. We, how do we know? We just say, we, we handle it? How we handle it? We don’t know, we don’t know the situation. We don’t know. We don’t know if they go another, cover another room or not. I don’t know.

Another cultural difference not directly addressed included the fact that teachers did not want to stand out, to cause any trouble, or to be disliked by members of the staff. For example, when asked about how to deal with a disagreement with a teacher aide in her classroom, one teacher responded, I want them to think I’m not a bad person. I’m not a just, I’m a teacher. I want to let them know I’m not hard to handle. If you’re nice to me, I’m nice to you. I think that way. I don’t know right or wrong, but I think this way. I think if I do, I nice to them, they will nice to me. Interviewer: So if you’re nice to them, then they’ll be nice back? Teacher: Yeah.

Transcripts like those above reveal several miscommunications, assumptions, and missed opportunities for personal connection and alliance building, specifically between an American-born consultant and an immigrant teacher. For example, one immigrant teacher corrected a campus partner when she mistakenly assumed that she knew the immigrant’s country of origin. Unfortunately, the interviewer did not explore this issue further, but rather focused on completing the interview, the result of her specific goals and objectives associated with conducting research. This should serve as a reminder to anyone doing this kind of work: That community-based research requires rethinking traditional notions of research. It requires valuing collaborating over obtaining data. Another missed opportunity to better mitigate discrepancies in power and privilege in the campus–community relationship was manifested in the initial decision making process, which determined who would be eligible to participate in training. As campus partners focused on empowerment with

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teachers—that is, teachers deciding who would be involved in this project— we missed an opportunity to challenge and reflect on the teachers’ decision to exclude teaching aides from the training. Hence, what should have been an empowering process in fact perpetuated the status quo, silencing the voices of some of the staff at the bottom of the hierarchy. We did include the nurse, receptionist, cooks, and janitor, but at the teachers’ behest, we left out the aides. We therefore missed the opportunity to challenge the teachers on their decision. The primary university collaborator did not take the chance to use the power of her position to challenge the status quo. What might have happened for the organization if she had? It could have been a growing experience, and a chance for the teachers to reflect on why they did not want to include aides in the process. These local, community-focused relationships serve as reflections of the unacknowledged and unspoken structures of power and privilege that exist across communities and in mainstream American society. Even with our many collective years of experience as educators and students of diversity and social justice issues, we still overlooked the power dynamics integral to community engagement. Campus and community partners must work together to engage in a reflective process of decision making that fosters the creation of sustainable and just community practices to better realize our maximal human potential.

Reflections One place to start, when working with other communities is to think about the “diversity” dynamics in place in your own community. Consider how you will address similar diversity issues in your next engagement: Is there variability between the people with the most and those with the least power and privilege within the community? What and where is the diversity? Are people aware of the cultural and linguistic variability impacting communication and interactions? What needs to change in your community to be more diverse, socially just, and inclusive?

8 Students’ Perspectives on Service Learning How do Students Become Effective Community Researchers? Without community service, we would not have a strong quality of life. It’s important to the person who serves as well as the recipient. It’s the way in which we ourselves grow and develop. —Dorothy Height

Community-Based Research as Service Learning The National Leadership Council for Liberal Education and America’s Promise (NLCLEAP, 2007) provides four broad learning outcomes that they argue are crucial for students’ success in the modern world. These learning outcomes are (1) knowledge of human cultures and the physical world, (2) intellectual and practical skills, (3) personal and social responsibility, and (4) integrative and applied learning. American universities for the most part have successfully met the first pair of learning outcomes. However, there is a call from the Obama administration, higher education Beyond the Campus, pages 107–127 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

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institutions, and their accrediting bodies to meet the second pair of learning outcomes by engaging college students in service (Chesbrough, 2011; Rosing & Hofman, 2010). Engaging students in service not only enhances students’ social development (Knapp, Fisher, & Levesque-Bristol, 2010), but also encourages students to become involved in American civic life (Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching and the Center for Information and Research on Civic Learning and Engagement, 2006). As discussed in Chapter 1 and 3, one way in which universities have incorporated service into their mission is by developing service-learning programs. Service learning is a form of experiential learning that integrates community service with coursework (Smirles, 2011). By integrating community service with coursework, students become both consumers and producers of knowledge (Felton & Clayton, 2011). As such, service and learning mutually enrich one another (Slavkin, 2007). Although service learning offers many benefits to students, to the colleges, and to the community, service learning in the United States has been criticized for emphasizing students’ education more than the achievement of community goals (Stoecker, Loving, Reddy & Bollig, 2010). Additionally, because of time constraints—largely due to the short length of the semester—placed on faculty and students, service-learning classes are often too short to provide any real or lasting benefit to community partners (Tryon et al., 2008). This has led educators and researchers to call for service to be extended over a longer period. Such an extension would enable colleges and universities to provide more meaningful service and would give students a richer experience of working with and for others (Knapp et al., 2010). A notable and increasingly common approach that addresses the shortcomings of traditional service learning is community-based research (CBR; Willis, Peresie, Waldref, & Stockmann, 2003). CBR meets the learning outcomes of personal and social responsibility and integrative and applied learning proposed by NLCLEAP (2007) by combining three core functions of higher education: (1) undergraduate research, (2) civic engagement, and (3) undergraduate learning (Dallimore, Rochefort, & Simonelli, 2010). Specifically, these learning outcomes are met in CBR by engaging faculty and undergraduate and graduate students in a collaborative and mutually beneficial CBR project, with the goal of bringing about social change (Dallimore et al., 2010; Paul, 2009; Rosing & Hofman, 2010; Willis et al., 2003). Through CBR, students are able to actively contribute to their communities and improve the lives of others, while utilizing research skills learned in their academic courses (Bach & Weinzimmer, 2011; Ferrari, & Jason, 1996; Hyde & Meyer, 2004; Rosing & Hofman, 2010). CBR offers many benefits, including reinforcing research

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skills learned in class, increasing community collaboration and awareness of social issues, improving communication and interpersonal skills, increasing leadership potential, and influencing career aspirations (Dallimore et al., 2010; Ferrari, & Jason, 1996; Hyde & Meyer, 2004; Willis et al., 2003). In addition, CBR courses provide opportunities for colleges and universities to achieve their goals of educating students, advancing teaching and scholarship, and helping underserved communities (Dallimore et al., 2010). There is a growing body of literature that has described and evaluated CBR and its benefits for students. This literature has for the most part been written by faculty (Willis, et al., 2003). Although faculty attempt to describe students’ experiences of CBR, student impressions of CBR are best communicated by students themselves (Willis et al., 2003).

Community Based Research: Advice and Outcomes In the present chapter, we (authors Clare Mehta, Johnny Nuguyen and Jody Pimentel-Eye) will discuss research on CBR and our own experiences of the methodology as undergraduate students working on a CBR project. Drawing on the literature and on our experiences as students, we provide advice for educators thinking about designing and implementing a CBR course, and for students thinking about getting involved with CBR. We also discuss how CBR has influenced our lives beyond the classroom. It is important to note that although we worked closely together on the project as undergraduates, we became involved in the project in different ways. Johnny became involved when he registered for a community psychology class, while Clare and Jody were asked to join the research team as research assistants (RAs). Johnny spent more time working in the classroom with the teachers at the childcare center. As such, Johnny thoroughly understood what it was like to be “on the ground.” He had a detailed understanding of how the center worked from the teachers’ perspective. Clare spent more time working on the research side of the project, which included conducting interviews with teachers and parents. As such, Clare gained an insight into data collection as part of a large-scale research project. Meanwhile, Jody gained an appreciation for various aspects of the project through presence in the classroom, conducting interviews and co-facilitating conflict resolution workshops. These different experiences have given us unique perspectives on a shared experience. We decided to include each of our perspectives in this chapter. In so doing, we hope to retain the richness of all of our narratives as we provide advice and reflect on outcomes of our participation in CBR.

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Advice for Educators and Students Undertaking Community Based Research Projects Based on CBR literature and on our experiences, we have developed advice for educators and students embarking on a CBR project. We present this advice in the form of three tips and related action steps for successfully integrating students into CBR. These tips are: (1) prepare student collaborators for project involvement, (2) build student investment, and (3) pay attention to power and power dynamics.

Lesson 1: Prepare Student Collaborators for Project Involvement Traditional service learning courses have often been criticized for not providing comprehensive training for undergraduates prior to working in the community. One reason for this may be that one of the primary philosophies behind service learning is that students learn while doing. We believe, however, that it is beneficial for students to have some training before going into the field. This training may occur in one of two ways. First, students may receive training as part of their CBR course or by taking another unrelated preparatory course. Second, students may receive training at another community site. Before sending students into the field, some CBR courses spend time educating students on research methods, the research process, and how to consult with community organizations (Bach & Weinzimmer, 2011; Dallimore et al., 2010). While they are in the field, students’ basic research knowledge is augmented as they learn the intricacies of conducting research in the real world. For example, in the field, students learn that teambased research involves collaboration, cooperation, flexibility, and adaptability (Bach & Weinzimmer, 2011). Clare recalled how her research methods class, taken with the project’s primary investigator, prepared her for work in the field: Before I became involved in the CBR project, I had taken Debra’s research methods class, so I felt as though I had a good grounding in research methods that prepared me for my involvement in the project. In the class, I was very interested in qualitative research methods, and so I felt that collecting interview data as part of the project was a good fit for me.

Similarly, students may receive training at an organization similar to that at which the CBR project is being undertaken. Before we started our

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CBR project, we observed and participated in classrooms that already employed the conflict resolution model that we would later use at our own community site. Johnny described the training that he received before the intervention started: As part of our conflict resolution training for the CBR project, we went to a school in western MA that was utilizing the high scope model for teaching conflict resolution. I was amazed at how the children at the school had the skills to resolve most of their conflicts. It was so different from what I had expected. I remember remarking on the drive back to Boston that it felt like the twilight zone. After spending a few weeks observing the high scope model members of the community psychology class moved to the CBR site, where the high scope model had not been implemented. Here we spent three weeks conducting classroom observations and brought our ideas and concerns about implementing the model in the early childhood education center to the research team.

Clare also recalled receiving training in conflict resolution at the school: Like Johnny, I spent time at the school in western MA, learning how to help children resolve conflicts in their classrooms. In addition to this “on the job training,” we talked about the high scope model for conflict resolution in our weekly meetings and were given articles to read. The trainings, discussions, and readings helped provide a solid foundation for the intervention that we were about to conduct at the early childhood education center.

Action Steps for Preparing Student Collaborators for Project Involvement Based on the CBR literature and our experiences, we suggest that faculty developing CBR projects do the following to prepare students for involvement in the project: ◾◾ Identify skills that students will need, and provide instruction or training to help students develop these skills. ◾◾ Provide students with an opportunity to “practice” their skills at another established site before beginning the research project. ◾◾ Encourage peer-to-peer mentoring and training.

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◾◾ Ensure that students not only have the requisite technical skills, but that they also have the social skills necessary for working in diverse communities. We suggest students: ◾◾ Discuss required project skills with faculty and graduate students. ◾◾ Seek out additional opportunities to hone research/community collaboration skills. ◾◾ Talk with community partners to ascertain the skills and training they expect from students. ◾◾ Talk with other undergraduates who have been involved with CBR projects.

Lesson 2: Build Student Investment If students have positive experiences doing CBR and are excited about the work they are doing, the quality of the service provided to the community will be greater (Rosing & Hoffman, 2010; Willis et al., 2003). As such, it is crucial to build student investment in the CBR project (Willis et al., 2003). One way to do this is to involve students in every aspect of the research project, from planning to data collection, data analysis and report writing (Willis et al., 2003). Student investment can also be built by taking students’ suggestions seriously, by limiting top-down mandates, and by recognizing students’ contributions and accomplishments (Ferrari & Jason, 1996; Willis, et al., 2003). One way to recognize students’ accomplishments is to include students as coauthors on conference presentations and posters (Ferrari & Jason, 1996). In addition to feeling more invested in the CBR project, such measures can also help students feel more invested in their college or university (Rosing & Hofman, 2010). Although Johnny, Clare, and Jody came to the CBR project through different avenues, all felt equally invested. Johnny shared his experience of starting and becoming invested in the project: My first brush with the CBR project was through a community psychology class. One of the class requirements was to complete a number of community service hours working on the CBR project. I was not excited about this, as I already felt overwhelmed by the coursework I had to complete for other classes. In spite of my concerns, I felt immediately invested in the project. One reason for this was that Debra Harkins, the primary investigator on the CBR project, was invested herself. Debra had recommended that I take this com-

Students’ Perspectives on Service Learning     113 munity psychology class. As she was my academic advisor, I trusted her recommendation completely. As time went on, I became more involved and invested in the project. I wanted to see it succeed. I felt it was important for the project to have tangible results after all the hard work we had put in. As the semester ended, I felt sad that I wasn’t going to be involved with the project anymore. When the semester ended, however, I was fortunate enough to be asked to stay on as part of the research team, and my participation in the project continued. This was a great honor for me. For someone to acknowledge my work was flattering. I also thought that being asked to continue participating in the project was a great opportunity. The invaluableness of this opportunity was reinforced by Debra, who told me that very few undergraduates were invited to be involved in the project. This made me feel as though my input was needed and appreciated. That feeling made me want to do whatever I could to help the project succeed. This motivated me to work hard and do the best that I could to help. My role in the team quickly expanded to collecting data, transcribing tapes, and even cooking food for parent workshops at the school. I even got to present our research at a conference in Hawaii! What started as a semester requirement ended up being a threeand-a-half year engagement.

Clare also described her involvement and subsequent investment in the project: Not all students involved in the project were part of a community psychology class. I was taking a research methods class with Debra. Elizabeth Doppler was the teaching assistant for the class. Elizabeth approached me and asked me if I would like to work as an RA on the CBR project. Although I enjoyed my psychology classes, I had never pictured myself as having the potential for a career in psychology. That I was singled out and asked to participate in the project was incredibly flattering. I gained a confidence in myself that came from believing that others had confidence in me. Perhaps I was capable of more than I had thought. Perhaps I had not given myself enough credit. Reflecting on the ways in which different students became involved in the project, Johnny and I began to talk about whether investment in the project was different based on whether students were in the community psychology class or whether they were asked to participate as an RA. As an RA, I felt as though I was different from the undergraduates who were part of the community psychology class. I was not “required” to put in any number of hours at the center. I did what I was able to each week. I was also not gaining anything tangible (i.e., a grade) from my involvement. Considering these factors, it could be expected that I would initially be less invested in the project. At the time, however, I felt very invested in what I was doing. Some of this investment came from being chosen to be an RA. The sense of importance

114    Beyond the Campus I got from working on the project made me eager to invest my time and effort. I wanted the other team members to feel as though they had chosen a good undergraduate RA. Some differences in level of investment between undergraduate students became apparent when the community psychology class finished. At the conclusion of the class, many of the students ended their participation in the project. I, on the other hand, remained involved beyond my graduation date. This is likely because I had intrinsic motivation to be involved in the project, while those in the class may have had extrinsic motivation (i.e., their class and grade). It is important to note that some students from the class remained involved past the end of the semester. As he noted above, Johnny continued with the project long after the class ended. He is still very much involved today. While thinking about this project I asked myself what kept me involved. At first, I think I stayed involved because I liked being part of something that went beyond a typical undergraduate experience. Working alongside the graduate students made me feel different from other undergraduates. It felt important to be doing something academic outside of classes and homework. I was also appreciative of being given opportunities that were, at the time, rare for undergraduates to be given. For example, I co-presented papers at two conferences with the research team. Another reason that I stayed involved was the sense of connection I had to the project and to the community. This connection ultimately led to my teaching at the center for a summer after my part of the project was over. This contributed to my developing an even deeper connection with not only the staff and the center’s administration, but also the project itself. I also felt connected to the research group. I felt valued and listened to by those in the group. I felt as though my contributions were appreciated. Forming close relationships with the graduate students involved in the research project gave me the opportunity to receive informal mentoring. For example, one of the graduate students, Elizabeth, gave me advice that helped shape the direction of my career. We went out for lunch and I was lamenting the fact that I had only just, as a senior, discovered women’s studies. Elizabeth told me that I could combine my interest in women’s studies with my interest in psychology by studying gender as a psychologist. Ten years later, I am a psychologist who studies gender and friendships. Spending time with the graduate students also gave me insight into what graduate school was like. When I embarked on my graduate school education, I often thought back to discussions we had had and the advice they had given me. Finally, my belief in the aims of the project contributed to my continued involvement. Six months into joining the project team, Operation Desert Storm began. The skills I was using to solve conflicts in a childcare center suddenly became very salient in terms of world politics. I found myself frustrated with political negotiations. I struggled to understand why world leaders were not applying the skills that we were teaching to three-year-olds.

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Clare and Johnny at the International Conference of Social Sciences in Hawaii.

Jody was another student who became involved in the project outside of the community psychology class: I was completing my final year of undergraduate work in psychology when I became involved in the CBR project. I too was asked by Elizabeth to become an RA for the project and like Clare felt honored to be given such an opportunity. Initially, I became interested in this project to gain first-hand experience with research. I had aspirations of a graduate degree and felt that expanding my knowledge base within the field of psychology would assist me with achieving this goal. Additionally, I had a passion for working with children and was excited to become involved with a project that sought to teach children empathy and conflict resolution strategies. I was also intrigued by the notion of coaching, teaching, and mentoring teachers for helping them engage with their students differently. I chose to stay engaged with the CBR project for a number of reasons. One reason was the breadth of ways I was able to contribute to the overall project. I remember sitting quietly in the back of preschool classrooms to record conflicts between children and the ways in which they are handled by the teacher(s); co-facilitating workshops for teachers that targeted conflict resolution strategies; conducting interviews with teachers and parents focused on conflict; and transcribing the aforementioned interview sessions. Being exposed to multiple facets of the project I felt gave me a holistic view of what it takes to be a producer of psychological research—something I had no experience with prior to becoming a member of this research team. Secondly,

116    Beyond the Campus I continued with this project for two years because I enjoyed being a valued member of the team. I remember feeling that my contributions, whether small or large, were appreciated by Debra and Elizabeth, and this kept me engaged and invested with the project. Finally, I experienced a sense of satisfaction and pleasure knowing that I was contributing to something larger than myself.

Action Steps for Building Student Investment Based on previous research and our experiences, we suggest that faculty developing CBR projects do the following to promote student involvement: ◾◾ Include students in the planning and decision making process ◾◾ Take students suggestions seriously ◾◾ Let students know that their contributions are valued and appreciated ◾◾ Include students as coauthors on conference presentations, posters, research reports, journal articles, and book chapters ◾◾ Provide mentoring from other undergraduates, graduate students, and faculty We suggest that students undertaking CBR: ◾◾ Make sure the topic of the project is of interest ◾◾ Think about what would make you feel invested. Does getting a good grade, feeling like part of a team, or helping others motivate you? ◾◾ Decide how you want to be involved. Is there one component of the process that interests you, or do you want to be involved in multiple ways? ◾◾ Seek out mentors on the project. Find people who can help you negotiate the complexities of CBR and who can provide you with career advice and guidance.

Lesson 3: Manage and Pay Attention to Power and Power Dynamics CBR provides a framework for the inclusion of multiple voices and ways of knowing in the research process. In spite of this, CBR often employs traditional hierarchical structures and role relationships (Marullo, Moayedi, & Cooke, 2009). As such, it is important to be aware of power inequalities

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among the partners and to be intentional about altering such imbalances (Marullo et al., 2009). To ensure the success of CBR as a student experience and as a service to the community, it is important for all parties involved to feel empowered (Marullo et al., 2009). As undergraduate students working on the CBR project, we had very different experiences of power. Johnny felt very strongly that there was a hierarchical structure in place that gave the undergraduate students involved very little power: In any team, power plays an important role. It influences how we conduct ourselves and fill our roles in the structure provided. As an undergraduate student, I was told that few students were given the opportunity to be involved in research, and as such, it was an honor and a privilege for me to be involved. In many ways, this set the tone for how I saw my role in the research team as undergraduate student researcher. It also set the tone for how I saw the overall structure of power within the team. My perception of the power structure within the team is as follows. Debra Harkins, as the lead primary investigator was at the top of the structure. Below her were two of her graduate students, Elizabeth Doppler and Sean Healy. Below the graduate students were five undergraduate students. The research group was intended to be collaborative and was set up with the intention that power would be shared. All members of the team, regardless of their position or status, were supposed to have an equal voice and equally valued opinions. In theory, having shared power was a wonderful idea. I believe, however, that several factors prevented power from being fully shared. First, I felt as though the undergraduate students were told that being able to participate in research was an honor, and that we were lucky to be involved in the project. Second, I felt that undergraduate students were not a part of the planning process. Although Debra and the graduate students reiterated time and time again that they wanted feedback from the team as a whole, I felt that I could not share my concerns with the model of the study or how things were being executed. I felt as though we, as undergraduate students, were there to carry out study tasks as we were told.

Clare, however, had a different perspective on power dynamics in the group: Talking together, Johnny and I felt differently about how the power structure of the CBR project worked. Johnny felt power differentials between himself, the faculty, and the graduate students more than I did. As I noted above, I felt as though my contributions to the project were welcomed and appreciated. I felt confident sharing my thoughts and ideas in our weekly lab meetings. In fact, I believe that the confidence I gained in the project group as an undergraduate helped me as a graduate student in classes, lab meetings, and department seminars. I was never told that I was “lucky” or “privileged” to be part of the CBR project research group. In fact, it was

118    Beyond the Campus not until I started my graduate education that I realized how lucky I had been to have such an intensive research experience as an undergraduate. The only place where I noticed “difference” was between me and the community psychology students who were taking a class for credit. Those taking the class had a required number of hours to complete at the center. As such, they were at the center for more hours than I was. This left me feeling as though they knew more about the project than I did. Additionally, those in the class commuted to the center together and built tight-knit relationships with one another. This often left me feeling like an outsider. The close relationships, however, that I developed with the graduate students on the project made up for the disconnect I felt with the other students. It could be that my relationship with the graduate students reduced my sense of power differentials.

Jody’s perspective fell somewhere in the middle: The way I experienced the power structure falls somewhere between what Johnny and Clare perceived it to be. I certainly saw factors that prohibited power from being fully shared by the group as Johnny pointed out. For example, Debra was the primary investigator and held the most power. Next, graduate student members had a specific investment in the project because of their dissertations and held a certain amount of power as a result. We as undergraduates served as a vital component of the team but held the least amount of power simply due to where we were academically. With that being said, I do believe Debra, Elizabeth, and Sean worked very hard to be mindful of the power differential. I do not recall being told I was “lucky” to be involved in the project and felt I was a valued member of the team. I did feel as though I could express my thoughts and opinions during weekly meetings and they would be heard. As Clare stated, I too did not realize until later in my academic career how fortunate I was to have had such an intense undergraduate research experience.

Action Steps for Managing and Paying Attention to Power Dynamics Based on previous research and our experiences we suggest that faculty developing CBR projects do the following to promote equal power sharing: ◾◾ Have discussions around power and power sharing. ◾◾ Be sure to solicit thoughts and opinions from all members of the team. ◾◾ Recognize that sex, gender, age, culture, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, and socioeconomic status all play into power dynam-

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ics and may influence team members’ willingness to share their points of view, as well as whether they are heard. ◾◾ Create multiple avenues for empowerment. If some team members feel unable to share thoughts and opinions in large groups or with certain team members, there may be other ways to give them voice (e.g., with peers). For students involved in a CBR project we suggest: ◾◾ Identifying contextual or individual factors that silence you or lead you to feel marginalized ◾◾ Identifying contextual or individual factors that lead you to feel empowered ◾◾ If you feel intimidated by specific team members: –– Consider why you feel intimidated, and address this issue with them –– Find other team members with whom you can talk to ◾◾ If you feel unable to contribute during team meetings, seek out alternative ways to contribute to the project that make you feel empowered.

Engaging Students: Sustaining Partnerships As noted earlier in the chapter, some researchers have asserted that servicelearning classes are too short to provide any real or lasting benefit to community partners. Our experiences suggest that one way to extend service over a longer period is to engage students in a way that encourages them to continue with their service projects after their service learning or CBR class has ended. We believe that paying attention to issues surrounding preparation, investment, and power will ensure that students are engaged in CBR in a sustainable way (see Figure 8.1). By engaging students, we can ensure not only that students receive the numerous benefits of being involved in community research, but also that communities benefit from productive and sustainable partnerships with the academy.

Outcomes: The Lasting Impact of CBR In the above section, we outlined suggestions for optimizing students’ experiences of CBR. In this section, we suggest that such optimization will lead to positive outcomes in students’ lives beyond college.

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Investment

Engagement and Sustainability

Training

Power sharing

Figure 8.1 

Research has suggested that CBR has a positive effect on college students’ social, intellectual, and ethical development and encourages future civic engagement (Knapp et al., 2010; Paul, 2009; Willis et al., 2003). Additionally, CBR often affects students’ career development (Willis et al., 2003). Writing this chapter ten years after graduating from college, we are in an ideal position to reflect on the ways in which our involvement in CBR has affected our individual and professional development and our community engagement.

The Impact of CBR on the Individual In reflecting on our experiences of working on the CBR project, we all saw ways in which working on the project changed us as individuals. We felt that our involvement with the project had a positive impact on our interpersonal skills. Johnny said: The project gave me the tools to deal with conflict on a daily basis. Even though the high scope model of conflict resolution was geared towards children, I found that it was also applicable to adults. An example of this was when I got into an argument with my mother about school and what I wanted to do with my career. I remember arguing with her on the phone for about two hours when I realized we were not going anywhere. Even worse, we started arguing about things that were not even relevant to the initial argument! This was when something clicked in my head. I realized that we were arguing with our emotions rather than thinking about the real issue. As soon as I realized this, I told my mother that I would talk to her the next

Students’ Perspectives on Service Learning     121 day. This gave me time to collect my thoughts and focus on the real issues that we needed to discuss. I remember going through each step in the high scope model that I learned as part of the project. To my surprise, when I spoke with her the next day using my notes of the six steps in the high scope model, we were able to come to come up with a resolution together.

As well as improving her conflict resolution skills, Clare developed new personal relationships: I found that, like Johnny, the conflict resolution training that we were providing at the center was helping me to resolve conflicts in my own life. I recall arguing with my college boyfriend and realizing that I was too emotional to successfully resolve our conflict. I removed myself from the situation and gave myself time to clarify my feelings. After spending ten minutes alone I returned to the conflict issue better able to articulate how I was feeling. Even to this day, I use the skills I learned from the conflict resolution training. I have learned to listen to others and to try to understand other people’s perspectives, even when they are not immediately obvious. In addition to learning how to resolve conflicts, my participation in the CBR project helped me build new relationships. I developed a closer, more personal relationship with Debra, who served as my faculty advisor. I also developed relationships with the graduate students, staff, teachers, and parents involved in the project at the childcare center. These new relationships proved to be invaluable resources as I thought about and planned my future career.

Jody felt that she learned a lot about group dynamics and power: Working on the CBR project had a significant influence on how I work in relationships with other group members. This was my first experience as a group member outside of working on school-related group projects with my peers, groups in which all members held the same amount of power. As an undergraduate, I felt that I held little power in the group. I recall trying to navigate this new role by speaking with Debra during advising sessions, talking with my undergraduate peers about their experiences as team members, and experimenting with varying levels of self-assertion during team meetings. What I ultimately learned was that all members of a group have something valuable to contribute. As I have progressed in my career and worked as a member of numerous groups, I remain conscious of asserting myself in groups no matter what level of power I hold. Additionally, I try to elicit input from other members in a group, especially those who tend to sit quietly, because I know they too have something important to contribute.

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The Impact of CBR on Community Engagement Research has suggested that service learning increases the likelihood that college students will be involved in community service after graduation. This was the case for all of us. Johnny became involved in his local community and sought out professional opportunities that allowed him to serve others: One of the most important lessons I learned by being involved with the CBR project was that I, as an individual, could make a big difference in a community. As cliché as it may sound, I learned that making the world a better place does not mean you have to do something big. You do not have to be rich to make a difference. I learned that giving time and caring about people can improve a community. There is no such thing as a perfect community. Regardless of the community that we are in, we can choose to help improve it. Working on the project gave me the opportunity to reflect on the communities that I was (and still am) a part of in Dorchester, MA. First, living in Dorchester, I am part of the larger Dorchester community. Second, as a Vietnamese American, I am part of the sizable Vietnamese community that resides there. Dorchester has a reputation for being a dangerous area of metropolitan Boston. In fact, this is all many Boston residents know about Dorchester. When I first moved to Dorchester, I bought into this reputation and accepted it. However, I quickly realized that rather than accept this reputation, I could make a difference by getting involved with my neighbors and participating in community activities. As noted above, I am also a part of the Vietnamese community in Dorchester. When I first moved to Dorchester, I had many conflicts with the Vietnamese community there. I did not share or approve of their conservative ways of thinking. I also did not like their reservations towards change in the community. For a long while, I disliked them and separated myself from them. However, I eventually realized that the only way I could help growth in the Vietnamese community was to become a part of it. As such, I began to participate in the community. I shared my thoughts and opinions, regardless of the community’s beliefs. I did this because I felt that it was important to be the voice of youths who were too afraid to speak their minds. In addition to becoming a greater part of my local community, I have also worked with community organizations. Upon graduation from college, I took a position working with the Asian LGBT community doing outreach work and research for a national study. After this position ended, I started my own nonprofit organization working with youth. My nonprofit gives young people an opportunity to engage in community service. I chose to start this organization to pass on the values I

Students’ Perspectives on Service Learning     123 learned doing CBR in college. I wanted to help young people to realize that their time could make a difference. I remembered how much of an impact our team had made at the early childhood education center, and I wanted to replicate that success in my own community.

Clare became more politically aware and started to volunteer in the community: Before becoming involved in the CBR project, I had never volunteered in the community. I also had little interest in political or social issues. Yet, while I was working on the project, I became more politically aware. I started to attend rallies and protests surrounding issues that I cared about. Then, as a graduate student, I volunteered at a lifelong learning institute. There were many weeks when I spent more hours at my volunteer site than I did working on my dissertation. I volunteered to teach a “successful aging” class, and started a walking group for older adults with one of my friends. Now, as a faculty member in a psychology department, I am in the process of designing my very own service-learning class working with children from socioeconomically disadvantaged areas in Boston. Based on the pattern of volunteerism and civic engagement in my life, I believe my involvement in a CBR project as an undergraduate has had a continuing influence on my involvement in social justice and volunteerism beyond college.

Jody also became involved with community service in a number of ways: Like Johnny, I became involved with serving the LGBTQ community after earning my Bachelor’s degree. Working with socioeconomically disadvantaged individuals at the early childhood education center sparked my interest in serving underserved and marginalized populations such as the LGBTQ community. Since that time, I have continued to serve the community through working with children and families involved in abuse cases, the severely mentally ill and forensic populations, and individuals residing in rural areas of the country.

The Impact of CBR on Professional Development Although CBR is theorized to have an impact on students’ career paths, little empirical research documents the impact of CBR involvement on professional development. In our experiences, CBR has had a huge impact on our professional development. All three of us either has earned or is en route to earning a PhD or a PsyD in psychology. Johnny discussed how his career path was shaped by his involvement in the CBR project:

124    Beyond the Campus As an undergraduate starting college, I, like most other undergraduate students, thought that psychology was mainly about therapy. At this point in my life, I was pretty set on being a clinician. Discussing my undergraduate days with Clare brought back memories about conversations we used to have about my plans to attend graduate school. I told Clare a number of times that I was going to go to graduate school and become a clinical psychologist. I knew exactly what I wanted to do because Debra had given me a lot of positive support and direction in terms of career planning. Because of this support, I had a very thorough plan for my future. Although I knew I wanted to be a clinical psychologist, being involved in the CBR project exposed me to a different side of the field—research. While I still loved clinical work, working on the project gave me an appreciation for research. I also enjoyed having the opportunity to work as part of a team. In this team, I got to see what it was like to be a graduate student. I saw the graduate students as psychological detectives, and this made psychology more interesting to me. This contributed to my decision to further my career in psychology. As I have continued my career in psychology, I frequently recall asking Debra when the project would end. She reminded me that it was not about the end, rather it was about the journey. I did not really understand it immediately, but over time, I have understood that the deeper we go into the field the more questions we have. Psychology really is all about the experience and the process. The drive of wanting to know more has fueled my interest in the field and research itself. After graduating from Suffolk, I earned a Master’s degree in mental health counseling. After earning my Master’s I engaged in clinical work and taught. I also conducted research with faculty members and students where I taught. I felt very lucky to be able to mentor students as I was mentored in the past. I enjoyed providing students with support and encouragement and hope that some of my students will also obtain graduate degrees. I have recently moved on to the next step of my career, and am currently enrolled in a PhD program in clinical psychology.

Clare discussed her belief that she would have chosen a different career path had she not become involved in the CBR project: Although the CBR project has influenced my life in many ways, the area of my life on which the CBR project had the greatest influence is my career path. I started college as a communications major with a concentration in public relations. I switched my major to psychology during my sophomore year because I enjoyed psychology classes more than communication classes. I believed that majoring in psychology did not preclude me from working in

Students’ Perspectives on Service Learning     125 public relations. As such, my plan after graduation was to find a job as an event planner. Becoming involved in the CBR project completely changed my career trajectory. When I was invited to participate in the project, I was a junior in college. Although I knew a little bit about research from taking classes, I really had no idea about how research was conducted in the real world. Becoming involved in the project was the first time I had had a chance to look through a window into the world of research psychology. I loved what I saw. After my first project visit to the early childhood education center, I told one of the graduate students that I would be happy if I could do research every day for the rest of my life. At this point, even though I knew I wanted to do research, I was not sure that I was graduate school caliber. I also knew that I did not want to be a clinical psychologist. At this time, I was unaware that there were other areas of psychology in which I could earn my PhD. Another barrier to graduate school was cost. I was an international student from the UK and had already spent a small fortune on my expensive American education. At the time I started college in the U.S., I could have earned a degree in the UK for about 10% of the cost. I was not going to ask my parents for more money for further education, and as an international student, taking out a loan for graduate school was infeasible. I graduated from college a semester early. As I was no longer taking classes, I had more time to devote to project activities, including giving presentations at two conferences. While working on the project, I looked for jobs in event planning. As part of my job search, I interviewed at the BU school of dentistry. The professor who interviewed me told me that he wanted to help me find a job in research. He put me in contact with his neighbor, who was the dean of the Boston University School of Education. The dean did not have a position for me, but he advised me to reconsider pursuing a graduate degree. The dean told me that a land grant institution would pay my tuition and offer a stipend in return for teaching or research duties. He told me to go back to England, get a Master’s degree, and return to the U.S. to complete a PhD at a land grant university. This is exactly what I did. I earned my first Master’s degree, a Master’s of Research (MRes) in education, from the University of Bath in England. I used data I helped collect at the early childhood education center as the basis of my Master’s thesis. Even though I was over three thousand miles away from the site, I still felt invested in the project. Producing a significant piece of writing about the project enabled me to approach the project from a different perspective. I now had the opportunity to couch what I saw and experienced within the wider research literature. As such, the project enabled my professional development not only by changing my career path, but also by teaching me how to conduct an independent literature review, analyze qualitative data, and write an academic paper.

126    Beyond the Campus After I completed my MRes, I returned to the U.S. and earned a second Master’s degree and a PhD in life-span developmental psychology from West Virginia University. Working on the CBR project gave me confidence as I completed my PhD. I knew what was involved in being part of a research team, and it took me less time than other students to gain the confidence to contribute to discussion in research meetings. I also felt that I had greater maturity and creativity as a researcher. I believe that this came, in part, from my experiences working on the CBR project. After completing a postdoctoral fellowship at Children’s Hospital, Boston and Harvard Medical School, I took a position as assistant professor of psychology at Emmanuel College in Boston. In this position, I continue to use the lessons that I learned from being a part of the CBR project. Because, as an undergraduate, my involvement in research gave me a sense of connection to my college and inspired me to pursue a career in psychology, I involve students in all my research. I strive to ensure that students in my lab are invested in the research projects we undertake. All my research students attend lab meetings in which their ideas are solicited. I give students independence and responsibility over projects to promote feelings of ownership. These are lessons I learned from my involvement in the CBR project. If, based on my experiences as an undergraduate, I can inspire my own undergraduate students to pursue careers in psychology research, the reach of the project will extend even further. In addition to shaping the structure of my research program at Emmanuel College, my involvement in the CBR project has influenced my teaching. I teach child development classes and have used many examples from the CBR project to bring my classes to life.

Jody felt that her experience of CBR made her more likely to seek out research opportunities: Overall, my experience of working on a CBR project showed me that the process of becoming a producer of psychological research does not have to be a daunting, insurmountable task. The skills and knowledge I gained as a member of the CBR project team gave me the confidence to seek out research opportunities when I relocated to Kentucky after earning my Master of Science degree in mental health counseling. A doctorate in clinical psychology was my ultimate dream, and I believed that gaining additional research experience would make me a competitive applicant. As such, upon moving to Kentucky I began contacting research departments at a large university to volunteer as an RA. During these interviews, I drew upon my experiences with the CBR project to highlight what I could contribute as an RA. I was fortunate to be given the opportunity to show principal investigators what I could contribute to their projects as an unpaid RA on two projects. Shortly after joining these projects, I was hired as an assistant for one of them. I believe this assistantship position and the publications that

Students’ Perspectives on Service Learning     127 came from it assisted me in securing acceptance into a clinical psychology doctoral program. Upon entering my doctoral program, I was introduced to research interest groups within the psychology department that students were encouraged to join. The purpose of these groups was to collaborate with a psychologist and other students with similar research interests. This collaboration had the ultimate goal of students becoming producers of psychological research, presenting their research findings at state and national conferences, and/or publishing their studies in peer reviewed journals. If I had not been involved with the CBR project and held the aforementioned research position, I would have been very reluctant to join one of these groups. Fortunately, being a member of the CBR project team gave me the foundational knowledge and confidence to become an active member of one of these teams. Had I not been involved with this project, I may not have the national presentations and publications I proudly list on my curriculum vitae today.

Conclusion Writing this chapter ten years after becoming involved with the CBR project as service learners doing CBR was a valuable experience for us. To be able to look back allowed us to examine aspects of our experience that we were unable fully to understand at the time. We enjoyed discussing our experiences and were often surprised by our differing perspectives. In spite of our sometimes divergent viewpoints, we felt confident in developing tips for educators and students interested in CBR. It seemed clear to us, based on our experiences, what these tips should be. It has also been interesting to consider how our involvement in the project shaped who we have become. Research has suggested that while the benefits to those receiving services in service learning experiences are clear, the benefits to those providing such services are less so (Clary & Snyder, 2002). We realized in discussing our experiences that the lessons we learned though our involvement in a CBR project extended far beyond the university. Learning about research, power dynamics, conflict resolution, and the importance of civic engagement are life lessons that we believe will continue to affect both our personal and our professional development.

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9 Partnership What Sustainability Looks Like Organizations learn only through individuals who learn. Individual learning does not guarantee organizational learning. But without it, no organizational learning occurs. —Peter Senge

W

hat makes a successful university–community partnership? Much of the research suggests successful collaborations remain elusive with too many unsuccessful campus–community partnerships (Benson, Harakavy, & Puckett, 2000; Boyd, Hohenbrink, Johnston, & Westhoven, 1993; Bushouse, 2005; Johnston, 1997; Morton, 1995; Sandy & Holland, 2006; Tyron, Stoecker, Martin, Seblonka, Hilgendorf & Nellis, 2008; Worrall, 2007). So, how did we do? Well, our quantitative and qualitative data suggest that we were successful in providing interventions that led to center-wide improvements within this community. The most striking finding to support our contention is the center turnover rates at the beginning and end of this project (See Figure 9.1). Many critiques of university–community collaborations find that the university partner tends to benefit from such collaborations and the comBeyond the Campus, pages 129–145 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

129

130    Beyond the Campus

Figure 9.1  Center-wide turnover rates for year one through year five.

munity partner far less so. This chapter describes the lessons learned during this university–community collaboration from the community’s perspective in the hopes of helping those seeking to do similar community partnerships. The ED of the community partner worked with the primary author over an eight-year period. During that time, we conducted many interviews pre-, mid- and post-project with many executive coaching sessions happening in person and over the phone during this period. The ED, “Sarah Frank,”* speaks about the university–community collaboration providing critical information for campus partners who seek to engage with community partners particularly those community partners with limited resources. Sarah, worked in the fields of education and social work in both the public and private sectors as a teacher, psychotherapist, consultant, and administrator for over 40 years. Her passion for developing programs through this collaboration and shared responsibility with community members made this partnership possible. Without such commitment from administrative leaders such as Sarah, university–community partnerships are likely to be too fragile to be sustainable. Sarah is also an ardent supporter of inclusion and social justice, and she has worked with many populations from special needs and their families to survivors of domestic and sexual violence from early childhood through adults. All of these qualities made Sarah an ideal community partner from the start. Sarah begins, When I began my involvement with the university–community partnership, I was the executive director of a large and growing early learning center in a diverse and economically disadvantaged community. The details of the project *

  This is a fictitious name.

Partnership    131 have been discussed throughout this book. However, what I want to do is offer perspective from an administrative vantage point. I will outline what elements were important to me as the executive director, what became important as the community-based research was implemented, the lessons learned from the partnership, and the lasting impressions of the collaboration. Throughout my career, I have been greatly influenced by the studies of Abraham Maslow and his hierarchy of needs (see Figure 9.2). Many educators and professionals in the business of management have used Maslow’s ideas to create similar hierarchies, and Chapman has applied Maslow’s ideas to the business community. Generally, basic needs (food, shelter) must first be met, then the need for safety, followed by belongingness. I was very concerned with the lack of safety for both children and the staff at the center. When teachers began to ask for help I seized the opportunity and began discussions with the lead author to bring conflict resolution training to our center.

Entering the Partnership As we conducted the needs assessment, the ED describes the tension that was building within community members: An initial step in the partnership included a needs assessment, which required participation from all levels of the staff strata, as well as the children and their parents. This part of the process took much more time than I had imagined, and the folks involved became very impatient. One of the teachers said that she needed help right away to deal with the problems she was

Self – actualization (Fulfillment, acceptance of self and others) Esteem (Respect of others, appreciation, dignity, confidence, mastery, independence) Belonging (Friends, relationships, sense of community) Safety Needs (Security, stability, structure) Physiological Needs (Food, water, rest, shelter, basic needs)

Figure 9.2  Maslow’s Basic Hierarchy of Needs.

132    Beyond the Campus having. She did not have the time to wait for some know-it-alls to come in to fix the problem. The expectation was that the executive director and the administrators should fix the problem and that this fix should remove the problem from the classroom or the playground. The teachers did not want to be seen as unable to handle their classroom and their expectation was that the administrators, who “sat in their offices all day,” should step in and do their jobs by fixing things in their classrooms. In contrast, the administrators and I felt strongly that the teachers were responsible for handling the children in the classroom.

Although it was important to conduct the needs assessment to determine the issues, obstacles, and possible solutions, it is clear that campus partners should keep an eye for the tension that builds as community members wait for a “solution.” Sarah describes how she uses Maslow’s basic hierarchy of needs (see Figure 9.2) to make sense of organizational dynamics of her center: These conflicts in expectations lead to all sorts of problems that spanned the first three levels of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Although most of the basic (i.e., physiological) needs in the center were met, the needs of safety and belongingness were essentially absent. There were numerous complaints about poor communication and substantial lack of support. The teachers felt like they were on their own. One important element that was missing throughout the center was a sense of belonging. Essential to the lack of belongingness was the absence of trust. There was no space for trust to develop because, in my opinion, the assumptions of the teachers were so different from the assumptions of the administrative team, and different still from those of the parents. As a result, energy was spent on the development of alliances that would support one’s particular viewpoint. In addition, when competing viewpoints met at the classroom door, confusion and chaos ensued. An example of this was the experience of one classroom teacher who needed some supplies. She followed protocol by filling out a materials request slip. The request for some crayons was met by one of the administrators within a few days. Later, the teacher learned that another teacher had received a box of multicolored crayons in twice the amount requested and that teacher did not have to complete the required paperwork. This example, once exposed, only created more tension and eroded any willingness that the first teacher may have had to trust the administrative team. Her sense of community belongingness was weak and vulnerable to say the least. During this time, much of my time was spent mediating disputes, finding staff, and doing what was necessary to keep the organization viable.

Partnership    133

Sarah describes initial discussions she had with her community members regarding conflict resolution training: When the notion of bringing conflict resolution training into the center was first broached with the staff, the initial reaction was one of skepticism and resistance. Doing something new was seen as a threat to the status quo (for those who were marginally satisfied with the current status). The notion of bringing in an outside entity meant change, and change was inherently understood as bad. Many members of the staff were not ready to invest in the work of developing community. That they had a job was good enough. Some of the pushback included resignations, staff not following protocol that resulted in dismissal, and a resultant chaos, which was felt by the children and the remaining staff. This situation was well documented in the needs assessment. Yet, I saw opportunities for growth and change in the intensity of this environment. Nevertheless, with few resources, untrained staff, and large administrative expectations, I recognized that the university partnership would be a big challenge for our community. To complicate matters, the community was not very well defined. Thus, many levels of expectations existed.

Lesson 1: Build a Trusting Relationship Sarah describes a central component that needs to be in place for a campus–community partnership to succeed: In order to begin this sort of a project there has to be a high level of trust between the university and the community partner for the CBR to succeed. Before the initial needs assessment, I had a prior professional knowledge of the work and skills of the lead researcher. Having this knowledge brought a level of trust to the planning and implementation. Referring to the hierarchy, this level of trust allowed for the movement between the levels, as outlined above, so that the CBR could become operationalized. At the same time, trusting the lead researcher modeled the sense of belonging that the executive director was striving to bring to the center. As the planning took shape, the entity coming into the center needed to work hard to build trust and at the same time introduce a model that would provide help for the teachers. The Model of Empowerment (See Figure 9.3a and 9.3b) was introduced to the staff in successive meetings and was accompanied by a film that demonstrated the project as well as detailed outlines of what the staff could expect. This model valued connection, understanding power dynamics, and engaging in difficult conversations. What was interesting to me as the executive director was that as much as I knew the model, and how well I knew how to provide support, in the existing environment at the time, it was very difficult to engage in those activities. What was important to me with the university

• Feeling connected • Letting each other in • “Friendly” co-workers

• Appreciating different points of view

• Being open

• Feeling understood

• Taking other people’s perspectives

Negotiation

• Rely on each other

• Ask for help

• Communicate directly

• Offer ideas

• Feel in control

• Use your authority

• Be authentic

• Fix problems

• Coordinate resources

• Speak out without fear of reprisal • Help each other out

• Make (or help to make) decisions

Shared vision

• Say what you want or need to say

Having the power to:

Empowerment

Figure 9.3a  A Model of Empowerment: Strengths presented to center (from Needs Assessment).

• Trusting each other (to do a good job, that everyone has good intentions)

• Being professional and courteous

• Knowing what others have to deal with

• Feeling close

Connection

• Valuing unique contributions

Respect

• Being able to “see it how I see it”

Empathy

Collaboration

134    Beyond the Campus

Partnership    135 Staying Connected • Need to let everyone “in” • Work on taking every person’s perspective— and be sure to articulate how the other person sees things • Don’t make some one an “obstacle” and don’t shut each other out • Communicate directly (“venting” to one person about another person is a red flag indicating you need to have a direct conversation) • Use a third party moderator (e.g., Sarah) if you are too uncomfortable talking on your own

Confusion about Power and Authority • More work on getting comfortable with your authority and how to use it constructively • Even more negotiating with each other and Sarah about who is responsible for what and how to participate in decision-making • Even more delegation from Sarah • Finish writing and getting agreement on job descriptions • Don’t “use” job descriptions and policies to avoid “uncomfortable” (but necessary) conversations • Continue to build the trust and the connections so you can negotiate and collaborate

Business Issues • Continue this work with the team, across the center and in the larger community • Work with the teachers and other staff members to: – Build trust and mutual respect – Communicate more effectively – Follow up with them consistently – Encourage them to take initiative • Get more qualified staff and minimize turnover, especially with part time people • Do a better job of supervising staff • Funding, funding, funding

Figure 9.3b  Next Steps: Challenges, Red Flags and Potential Obstacles (identified from Needs assessment) partner was that the partner knew about the dynamics and was able to put a plan in place that would acknowledge the issues and at the same time respect the dynamics that became evident in the needs assessment. In 2005 as the study expanded, the organizational framework was developed that modeled the ideas that Maslow (1987) had referenced in his work. This model helped to visualize the process of the change that occurred in the organization. The university partner approached the community from a perspective of strength and humility at the same time.

Lesson 2: No Matter How Much a Community May Want and Need Help, Outsiders Are Still Considered Disruptive to the Current System Campus partners must be cognizant of this inevitable dynamic. Partnerships are simultaneously wanted and unwanted. Sarah describes the chaos that ensued with campus involvement:

136    Beyond the Campus When the project first started there was a lot of chaos in the center, there was little family involvement, and many assumptions about what was supposed to be happening and assumptions about who was responsible. Through all of this, I had a vision and assumptions as well. One was that adults could learn to get along with each other even if they had disagreements with a premise or with the way in which the administration was providing guidance to make changes. The other was that the teachers and staff would always act in the best interests of the child. A third assumption was that when the staff got training, they would immediately implement the learning from the trainings and everything would improve. Lastly, the change would be obvious to the parents, and they would then reciprocate with greatly improved relationships with staff and administrators alike.

Although there was the inevitable chaos and disruption at the start of the project, Sarah describes why she continued with the project and what was important to her as the project began: I was well versed in the empowerment model being used and was convinced that somehow with the intervention, not only could the community be shaped to be more peaceful, but also the individual members of the community could aspire to the level of self-actualization as described in the schematic above.   1. I was convinced that if I kept my perspective on the horizon, the community and I could weather the pushback and the difficulties that change brings.   2. I believed that the community could change and it could be a safe and welcoming place for everyone: staff, children, and their families.   3. I believed that the intervention would be worth the investment in time and energy.

Lesson 3: Building a Successful Campus–Community Partnership Involves Clarity and Alignment of Values and Goals Another important ingredient for building a successful campus–community partnership: clarity and alignment of values and goals. Sarah indicates how important it was to her that the empowerment model used was familiar to her and how it aligned with her values and ideas about how to build relationships. Additionally, Sarah indicates that she was comfortable with her campus partner who modeled the approach that was being implemented. Sarah states:

Partnership    137 In my opinion, the campus team was able to do this because they took the following steps: • Campus members received extensive training in the model in which they were working • Campus members learned the language that was important for the implementation of the model • The team members, whether undergraduate or graduate, entered the community with a shared vision of what could happen • The members had an appreciation for each other’s strengths and weaknesses • Campus members had a clear understanding of their roles in the model and in the process In a sense, the campus team modeled in all aspects the model of empowerment and the conflict resolution model that they were going to deliver. Moreover, as the project got underway, I found that I also needed additional support to engage in the difficult dynamics that became apparent as the change unfolded. Being open to the support of the lead researcher was important, and reading more on difficult conversations (Fisher &Ury, 1991; Ury, 1993) became essential. As the study began and the training of staff and parents started, subtle shifts emerged with the classrooms that received the training. What was important to me as the executive director was that change was occurring and that the change was producing calmer behavior for children and a more peaceful classroom environment for the teachers. The other change was that the teachers, as they became empowered with the new model of conflict resolution, began to use their power to demand more resources and support from their supervisors. And that itself created additional conflict for the administrative team.

Sarah articulates clarity and alignment between campus and community partners regarding the goals of the project: What was important at this juncture of the journey was that the campus team had a good understanding of the process of change and that they were able to “stay with the program.” The campus team was able to: • Meet frequently to review and support their work • Communicate findings with the administrative team and the teaching staff • Produce written documentation that all participants could read, understand, and digest • Engage with children in the classroom always using the model As this continued over the period of months, the campus members were seen as support to the teachers and aides.

138    Beyond the Campus

Description: The survey instrument consisted of many items, or questions, which made up 46 different “scales” all together. The scales can be grouped to represent specific qualities that were identified as important in the needs assessment interviews. (For example, the Direction/Leadership theme was measured using four different scales—two for leadership, and two for setting direction.) The scale groupings—or needs assessment themes—can be further organized (and simplified) into categories, which address different kinds of concerns at the center. • The first category comprises the themes of trust, openness, support, respect and community. • The second category addresses empowerment and organizational learning (e.g., collaboration, resolving conflicts and valuing differences). • The third category deals with leadership and management practices. • The fourth category is focused more on “outcomes,” meaning the kinds of things that will demonstrate that our work is making a difference (e.g., increased job satisfaction, morale and mental health, and decreased stress). Framework: Notice that each of the categories in the diagram build on each other: • The base of the pyramid consists of the fundamental qualities of trust and openness (or interpersonal safety), respect, support, and community. • The next layer consists of empowerment and organizational learning (e.g., valuing collaboration and direct resolution of conflict), which are possible only if trust, respect, etc. are in place. • Leadership and management practices “rest” on empowerment and organizational learning, as our fundamental values and beliefs influence how we run the business day-to-day. • Lastly, the results—or outcomes—we hope to see (in the top of the pyramid) depend on progress being made in every layer of the pyramid.

Desired Outcomes: Morale, Job Satisfaction, Mental Health, (Lower) Stress Leadership (Vision, Setting Direction, Goals) and Management (Standards, Role Clarity, Policies, Practices) Empowerment & Organizational Learning (Collaboration, Resolving Conflicts, Valuing Diversity) Community Support, Trust, Openness, Respect, Interpersonal Safety

Figure 9.4  Survey Results from Needs assessment.

Partnership    139

Another area of overlapping values and goals was parent engagement in the project. Sarah identifies their importance to the success of the project: There was little parent engagement at the onset of the project. I knew that to be successful in building this community, the parents (and the extended families) were important stakeholders. In order to bring them into the equation, the parents needed to “have a place at the table.” Parents were identified as a core component to the program and were included in the study from the beginning. However, during the times of crisis and change, it was extremely difficult initially to keep them “in the loop” as a viable entity within the model. For any university/community partnership, it is very important that all of the members of the identified community be included as the process of change takes shape.

Sarah reinterates the importance of sharing values and goals across campus and community partnership is critical for success.

Sustaining the Partnership Commitment from the campus and community partners is critical, as there are many challenges and obstacles to address before any long-term change takes place. Fortunately, Sarah understood this process well and shares several of the challenges that emerged during this project: As the study progressed, change was demonstrated and conflicts emerged. One major issue for me was that the investment that I had with the project was not shared with the rest of the administrative team and with some of the teachers. This became ever so clear when there was the discussion of ownership of the process about three-quarters of the way through around 2003. It had been agreed by the campus team that all classroom teachers would be trained in the conflict resolution model upon conclusion of the initial study. In one of the team meetings, this discussion came up and as the teaching staff and the administrative staff were engaged in the discussion, one of the administrative staff members declared that the project should be named “Shared Vision.” While there was clearly discomfort with that declaration, in the opinion of this writer, the name was reluctantly adopted. (At the same time, this shift to a “Shared Vision” was seen as a positive change in the study component.) What became apparent to me, however, was that there was a lot more work to be done. The administrator did not follow the model of engagement and did not engage in good resolution of conflict. At the same time, the conflict resolution model began to appear on classroom walls. The essence of the model (DeVries & Zan, 1994), which I adopted and put up on my office wall, included the following six steps: • Approach calmly • Acknowledge feelings

140    Beyond the Campus • Gather information • Restate the problem • Ask for solutions and choose one together • Follow up Another example of the brewing administrative storm occurred when we had the opportunity to select a teacher to attend an international conference in Hawaii to present and display the successes of the study. As the selection process was proceeding, the same administrator inserted herself and declared that a name should be pulled from a hat. Unfortunately, the name pulled was a person who was minimally skilled and trained in the process and was not, in my opinion, the best person to demonstrate the model. What was important at the time was the skill of the lead researcher and the CBR team to find a way to continue with the model and assist with the process to effectively move the project in a positive direction. Because I missed some other key aspects of this “living organism,” the changes that I was expecting did not happen. The problems and the conflicts did not go away. I did not have a good read on the intra-systemic relationships and the power of coalitions that already existed in the community before I arrived and continued to develop as I tried to initiate change. No matter how good you think the communication system is, it always needs attention and adjusting. As the project commenced, I assumed that the communication system was in good shape. I had weekly or biweekly administrative team meetings. I thought that those meeting were sufficient to get the business of the organization done. What I did not know was that I was not paying attention to the subtle and not-so-subtle changes that were starting to happen as the experimental group began to implement the conflict resolution model in their classroom. In addition, as the teachers found their voices, the administrative team was not prepared to handle the shift in power that voice created.

What made Sarah willing to deal with these challenges? Sarah states: In any collaborative project, because teams are organic and work with each other, challenges emerge that may not have been predicted or scripted in a hypothesis. How the campus team interacted with the community team becomes very significant. The interactions are watched by all participants, both those engaged in the project directly and those who are less involved. All parties to the project were continually assessing whether to stay with the model or disengage. What is important, in my experience, is to monitor and engage with the model and the participants (both university and community partners), acknowledge the challenges, and develop a response to the challenge. In the evolution of a university–community partnership, it becomes crucial to not leave a community before “the job is done.” How that is defined is

Partnership    141 also very important. The definition must be broad enough to meet a community need and specific enough to be able to be implemented in a reasonable timeframe. Once the teachers received the training and demonstrated success, the administrative team needed help. Fortunately, because of the mission and vision of the campus team, the collaboration continued. Sustaining the partnership meant that the university community collaboration remained for another two years. During this time, the administrative team received extensive training and support (2004–2006) that covered the conflict resolution model, role clarification, and team building. One of the important milestones was the administration of the Myers–Briggs Type Indicator (Hirsh, Hirsh, & Hirsh, 1994) to all of the administrative staff. Reviewing the indicators and mapping the personality types was a great way to help each individual learn about their own strengths and where they fit within the team. Once that was seen, each person felt supported. It also gave rise to their own voices, which could be used more effectively in team meetings and around the center. And that was the beginning of the administrative team being able to coalesce as a functioning group and opened the door to the potential for utilizing the conflict resolution model within the community. At the same time, there were changes in personnel on the administrative team. These changes both disrupted the learning curve and brought a new challenge to the notion of sustainability. Was there a way to transfer the new learning to a new team member? What the administrative team became cognizant of was that some learning became intrinsic; other learning evolved as new members entered the system and other members left. In the initial phases of these changes, the university partnership was crucial. The CBR team was able to show with their research the strengths of the organization, where we could be stronger, where our differences were, and how we could get there. The CBR team, based on the research, developed a series of trainings and workshops about communication that were critical to this phase of transition. Because of this commitment to research and process, a tremendous amount of work happened to improve the climate and relationships among the administrative team and throughout the center. Why we continued with the project is because I knew that: • The campus team would stay with the center community • The conflict shifted and the model would continue to be used to engage all of the members of the community • The campus team could hold the conflict and find a way to resolution

During the transition, as conflicts escalated, it was important that support be in place to deal with the disruption. Sarah clarifies: As the temperature rose as the conflicts became more pronounced, it was important that the campus team had the knowledge, skills, and endurance

142    Beyond the Campus to stick with the community as it learned about each other and their relationships with the team. It was also important to receive recognition for the hard work that everyone was engaged in. For some staff it was easier to just leave. For those who stayed and learned, the rewards were great at the end. One element initially missing from this community was consistent supervision for teachers and staff. While I was available to provide support and counsel, it only happened on a “triage” basis due to the chaotic nature of the system. And, because of the lack of trust, few staff wanted to invest the time to receive supervision on a regularly planned basis. When the organization was at the height of its turmoil, it was critical that every key community member receive supervision. Campus partners brought such support to the project. The support was necessary both to provide a buffer for all of the change that was afloat and to assure the members that they continued to have a voice in the system. For me as the executive director, the supervision from the lead researcher enabled me to find the strength to go through the tough parts of this study and learning. The need for supervision is crucial for transition and change. While creating the time for consistent supervision is often eclipsed by other needs that erupt within an organization, ensuring supervision of staff on all levels is just as important as “doing the job.” In fact, after the exit of this project, supervision became an integral component of subsequent community-based partnerships. New learning takes time to integrate into the system. As staff and administrators found their voices, the relational systems shifted. What was happening became a very dynamic organism. While conflict did not go away, it was met with a set of tools that was consistent and reliable, and problems were solved. The overall agency did not value time for planning and reflection and efforts to build time for teachers and other staff such as aides and other support staff. Trying to create such time in the daily schedule proved to be quite daunting. In order to have meetings and to staff the classrooms would take more staff (financial resources that were not available at the time). Some staff volunteered their time to be a part of the project. Indeed, all of the university members volunteered their time, which included travel to and from Boston one, two, or three times per week. A community that is going to participate with campus partners must make sure that there are ample resources to give community partners time for the important functions of planning, reflection, and response among the community as well as the university partner, which are vital for integrative learning. As trust grew in the organization and as the administrative team learned about each other, problems could be acknowledged more openly, and solutions could be presented without fear of “hurting someone’s feelings.” As the community members embraced the model, it could be used not only with each other but also with folks outside of the immediate membership. Eventually, as children, staff, and parents learned the model for resolving conflict, the peer group could develop solutions, and it was not always

Partnership    143 necessary for the person “at the top” to get involved. In fact, power was shared and the hierarchy was compressed.

Exiting the Partnership One of the most difficult moments of any relationship is the ending. How can a campus–community partnership end successfully? Sarah describes how we, the campus partners, ended our formal work with the community: The question for me, as the study and follow-up training were winding down, was how were we, the community, going to retain the learning and growth once the partnership with the university ended. Any good research partnership, in my opinion, provides the following: • A model that is viable for the community • Support/training for the model • A clear entrance and exit for the community • Flexibility to adjust to specific challenges • Time for meeting and reflection With this clear vision, a university is able to experience a successful partnership with a community member. One other component to this partnership is what happens after the exit. This is also another way to look at sustainability.

Extending Sustainability Sarah describes what happened after the intervention: Sustainability is getting a lot of attention these days (Senge, Smith, Kruschwitz, Laur, & Schley, 2008). Indeed an important component of any intervention is what happens afterward. I would like to present a couple of examples of the lasting impact that this multiyear partnership has had on the early learning center. Shortly after the study, I focused on updating the vision statement to better reflect the work going on in the center and to assure that it matched the overall mission. To do this, a volunteer committee came together that represented the early learning communities. This committee met five times over the course of three months. Members of the committee relayed information to the larger community. The teacher aide on the committee had to make sure that she communicated with the other teacher aides and relayed the feedback to the committee. The same was true of the lead teachers and the administrators. With the prior training in communications, this endeavor was quite successful. The vision statement was created and has worked well for the center to this day. The staff who learned the conflict resolution and subsequently learned the communication skills became much more invested in their roles in the center, became

144    Beyond the Campus very effective in the classroom, and voiced their opinions and concerns to appropriate staff as needed. One example of this was two teachers who were having a conflict and started to “take it to the hallway.” One of the teachers said to the other, “We need to take this to Sarah,” which they indeed did. Together we set a specific time and place to attend to the conflict. The two staff took the time to follow the steps of the conflict resolution model and were able to find a resolution. As part of the resolution, the two staff were able to acknowledge that their teaching styles were very different and that the differences were assets rather than impediments to the center. With the all-important follow-up, the teachers continued to work together on an important project. Another example of the success of the university–community partnership was the center’s ability to engage in other community partnerships. In fact, the center began a partnership with one agency where there was conflict with a trainer. The center community was able to articulate its concerns, and adjustments were made to make the necessary changes that would fit with the center’s vision and mission. Shortly after the study, the center sought to receive comprehensive training in parent engagement. The program, called Strengthening Families: A Protective Factors Framework, was a natural progression for this community partner. The training involved self-selected teaching staff, administrators, and parents and resulted in the formation of the parent advisory committee and the extension of one of the administrators’ duties (25% of her time) to include parent engagement. It was clear that staff had developed a clearer sense of community within the organization and were much more welcoming to the membership to whom they provided services, namely the parents and their children. Lastly, the sustainability of the initial training was extended in the early learning community’s ability to continue to identify its needs and find appropriate partnerships for continued growth and development. In 2009, the center was invited to participate in a three-year evidence-based study to improve literacy for preschoolers. The model used would require extensive participation from the lead teachers, including college level courses, working with mentors in the classroom, and learning a new curriculum. While the staff had had a misfit with a prior partnership, I evoked the experience with Suffolk University, reminding the staff that they would have the support of mentors and volunteers to assure success and urged the staff to try it. I assured the staff that they would have a voice in how they would implement changes in their classrooms as they learned how to use the new curriculum. Three years later, the teachers were successful in bringing change and success to their classrooms and the center. Lastly, another change is that all classroom teachers have scheduled time out of the classroom to attend to items that require planning, discussion and tasks that enhance the early learning community.

Sarah describes other lessons learned through the university community partnership:

Partnership    145 As the community learns new ways of being, the language also changes. It is important for members of the community to be cognizant of that. One parent who was involved in the initial training and had four children in the center over the span of 10 years remarked on how things changed. She stated that while her children were “no angels,” she loved how the staff was able to handle and support her children. She was always informed, when children were having difficulty and when they were excelling. She welcomed the opportunity to sit with staff and administration to solve problems when they arose. She even stated that she used the conflict resolution technique with her husband. The impetus of the project was conceived at the senior management level for one component of a larger organization. However, while it had tacit approval of the CEO, it never had the buy-in that would encourage the implementation of the learning achieved into the rest of the organization. So, the possibility of the major strides that were experienced in the early learning center was not shared with the larger organization. In the future, it will be important for a similar project to not only have approval from the executive level of the organization, but also the buy-in so that systemic change can be implemented and shared throughout the organization. At this writing, the buy-in ought to include the senior executive level of an organization as well as its board of directors. When the community enters into a partnership with the university, both parties need a place to “hang their hat,” as the partnership will be lengthy. The campus partner is not just a dinner guest, but also a team moving in for a while. It is important for community partners to understand this reality initially and to find a spot where campus and community partners can work side by side, a space for both confidentiality and sharing. The notion of sustainability changes through the life of a project. First, it is important to develop and maintain the community–university relationship. As learning takes place, it is important to plan the exit so the intervention sustains learning beyond the initial partnership. In addition, through all of these relationships an organization learns to maintain its core through change.

Many lessons, both positive and negative, can be learned from Sarah’s reflections regarding the effectiveness of this campus community partnership. The biggest partnership lessons are focusing the partnerships on trust, communication, and shared values and goals for the project. Challenges include realizing that a campus presence within a community creates a disruptive environment, and expectations are high that change will happen quickly and smoothly—things that are not possible with longstanding issues that require organizational change. Acknowledging this quandary should be addressed at the outset and throughout the partnership.

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10 Conclusions

Democracy, Dewey emphasized, has to be built on face-to-face interactions in which human beings work together cooperatively to solve the ongoing problems of life. —Harkavy, 1999

O

ur purpose in this book has been to provide a deeper understanding of the practice of university–community partnership and how such collaborations can mutually benefit each partner. Previous chapters have discussed engaged scholarship, the history and method of university–community collaboration, and the lessons learned when building a sustained partnership. Clearly, university engagement with local communities is a core value of higher education, of the future of American democracy, and of our globalized society. However, civic engagement competes with many other priorities on university campuses. As Jacoby and Hollander (2009) state, “To survive and thrive as a priority in the long run, civic engagement must be central rather than marginalized, institutionalized rather than fragmented, and strong rather than weak.” Widespread realization that university–community partnerships provide powerful shared learning experiences must be cultivated, and support for such work needs to be grounded in federal and state funding initiatives at a national level. Beyond the Campus, pages 147–154 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

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Our original aim in this university–community project was to determine how to resolve conflict between children and among center staff in the community. The project quickly expanded to include interviews with all members of the community regarding their perspectives on the causes, symptoms, and solutions for addressing conflict, then to short-term and long-term conflict resolution intervention, and finally to administrative team building interventions. At all levels of this project, we argue that community issues are much more complex than they first appear, that relationships built on trust comprise the heart of partnerships, that support and change require greater physical and human resources than expected, and that sustainable change demands ongoing preparation and critical reflection of the the imbalances in power dynamics. From our own work and from that of other university members seeking to engage in community partnerships (e.g., Anyon & Fernandez, 2007; Bringle, Clayton, & Price, 2009; Chen & Horsch, 2004; Conville & Kinnell, 2012; Janke, 2009; McNall, Reed, Brown, & Allen, 2009; Ravid & Handler, 2001; Sandy & Holland, 2006), we derived four key goals to ensure effective and sustainable university community partnerships (see Figure 10.1):

1. 2. 3. 4.

Build trusting relationships Assess strengths and limits of each partner Process power dynamics Prepare for project

These key goals reflect the multiple relational, institutional, political, and personal issues that influence whether a partnership fails or thrives. Each can grow or destroy the partnership at any time. In our concluding thoughts, we describe each goal or effective university–community partnerships, with specific recommendations for how to best obtain each goal, in order to build and strengthen partnerships to render them more effective and sustainable.

Goal 1: Build Trusting Relationships As previous research on university-community partnership reveals, developing trusting relationships is at the heart of all civic engagement and is fundamental in the creation of strong and effective partnerships (Bringle & Hatcher, 2002). Commitment to building and strengthening the relationship, which our community partner Sarah stressed, mirrors the extensive literature on campus–community partnerships (Benson & Harkavy, 2000; Dorado & Giles, 2004). Building a trusting relationship requires time,

Commitment

Identifying community needs

Community

Campus Project Preparation

Trust

Power Dynamics

University–Community partnership

Partner SWOT*

Figure 10.1  Factors that impact university–community partnerships. Note: SWOT = Strength, Weakness, Opportunities, and Threats

Shared values

Consistency

Space

Time

Community

Campus

Limits

Strengths

Limits

Strengths

Diversity—race, gender, culture

Social class inequalities

Economic inequalities

Historical inequalities

Critical reflection

Community partner

Campus partner

Shared decision making

Conclusions    149

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consistency, clear and effective communication, as well as commitment between campus and community partners. An effective collaboration meets the needs of both parties and is accomplished through mutual trust, respect, and communication (Sandy & Holland, 2006). Our recommendations include: ◾◾ Partners should listen and speak with each other before beginning the formal aspect of the project (e.g., needs assessment or intervention) to determine whether the partnership is feasible. ◾◾ Each partner should understand the other’s goals, values, and approaches. This will ensure that the partnership makes sense to begin, and will help to sustain the partnership during the inevitable challenges that will arise. ◾◾ Treat your partner as an equal: Partners should mutually co-construct, co-learn, and co-decide. ◾◾ Create a safe and confidential space in which to talk about sensitive issues.

Goal 2: Assess Strengths and Limits Assessing the strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats that characterize both sides of the university–community partnership is another critical component for the success or failure of the relationship. Issues to consider: ◾◾ Assess the level of support and “buy-in” from community administrators (e.g., board members and/or president). ◾◾ Determine the “readiness” of partnership including who supports the partnership, determining whether university and community share pedagogy and goals, and how open the community is to new approaches to intervention. ◾◾ Evaluate whether the available physical space supports or impedes project goals. ◾◾ Assess how levels of violence and variables of housing, income, and health may be involved. ◾◾ Determine if the campus partner has the human, financial, and/ or physical resources to support the project. ◾◾ Determine who and how many community stakeholders will be involved in the project. Who is not involved may be as important to determine as who is involved with the project.

Conclusions    151

Our recommendation is to identify strengths, limits, support systems, and readiness utilizing formal needs assessments at the outset of the project. Conduct assessments at regular intervals throughout the project as strengths, limits, and goals shift with time. Co-create and disseminate assessments throughout the community as well as share and discuss implications of assessments and suggestions for next steps.

Goal 3: Prepare, Plan, and Repeat Another key goal is preparing and planning the project. Preparation by campus and community partners alike is required to ensure the success of the partnership. Our recommendations include being sure that: ◾◾ University members are trained in the research or intervention protocol ◾◾ University members are available, visible, and committed ◾◾ Communication is sensitive, consistent, and open; ensure that someone on the university team has linguistic, technical, and cultural knowledge of community partner members ◾◾ Interventions and practices are appropriate for community members. This is particularly important when working with a community that differs distinctly from university members in race, gender, culture, and social class. ◾◾ Critical reflection is ongoing throughout the project.

Goal 4: Process Power Dynamics Understanding the role of power dynamics involves acknowledgement and processing of how social class, historical, economic, and minority status inequalities affect the project. Unfortunately, addressing the power imbalances that are inevitable in university–community partnerships is an often forgotten or minimized aspect of the collaboration. Regrettably, we did not adequately address these imbalances initially and thereby inadvertently replicated existing social injustices. University–community partnerships often entail campus partners engaging with a community whose perspective is far less hierarchical and elitist. In contrast, the community often operates based on a more cooperative, participatory, and multidimensional orientation. Edgar Schein, Sloan Fellows Professor of management at MIT, reminds us in Helping (Schein, 2009) how every action intended to help is “unbalanced and ambiguous and hence can create a loss for one or more

152    Beyond the Campus

people. Needing help often feels demeaning. It is a loss of independence to have someone else advise you, heal you . . . even serve you.” It is crucial that each side of the collaboration understand how helping may explicitly and implicitly influence partnerships. As Schein states, helping typically results in the helper gaining status while the “helpee” loses status when helped. Critical awareness of how “helping” relationships create power imbalances is especially crucial in partnerships that begin significantly imbalanced due to historical, political and/or social injustice. This is especially true given university partners are often viewed as the “experts” by community members (and frequently through self-definition as well), while community partners are perceived as the one “needing help.” Power dynamics are particularly acute when working with underserved or low-resource communities that have a history of social, political, racial, gender, and/or class inequalities. Our recommendations include: ◾◾ Quickly, openly and consistently address power issues. ◾◾ Engage in critical reflection on how power impacts decision making at all levels of the project. ◾◾ Determine what actions support or limit each campus and community member. ◾◾ Discuss how to address the differences between the parties. ◾◾ Begin with community partners who are willing to engage and let them spread the word. ◾◾ Provide individual and concrete assistance to community members. ◾◾ Provide multiple options in decision making and leave plenty of time for discussion. Community-based researchers must have clear articulation of goals and mutually agreed upon core values such as (1) respecting community needs, (2) having a social justice orientation, (3) adopting the perspective of engaged scholars, (4) ensuring timely and accurate disseminations of research data (if applied), (5) developing a plan following the initial phase of needs assessment, and (6) remaining flexible about incorporating community feedback for making strategic decisions and implementing the program. This model is highly recommended for the community service domain in which volunteers and faculty coordinators pursue these goals to ensure respectful collaboration with community partners. Moreover, student volunteers’ experience of the relationship between faculty and the community

Conclusions    153

partners provides a healthy role model for critical thinking, self-reflection, understanding of complex social issues, power/privilege dynamics, empowerment of underserved communities, and fostering their personal and professional growth. Perhaps, Wittgenstein (1974) had it backwards: It is not when you climb the height and kick away the ladder that you see a right. Rather, it is when we come down from great heights that we see a right. Building effective university–community partnerships is not easy, but it is infinitely rewarding. Too often, the view is that university–community outreach is something that universities must do—that the educational institutions are obligated to give back and to bear the cross of this sacrifice. However, university–community partnerships not only benefit the community but also provide equally valuable educational experiences for university partners. By universities returning to their fundamental mission of community engagement, universities not only meet their civic responsibility but provide equally valuable educational experiences and goals for university members.

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Electronic Resources

American Academics for Higher Education AAHE provides information for those seeking to further their education including funding, online and continuing education classes. For more information www.aahe.org American Psychological Association Society for Community Research and Action The Society for Community Research and Action is dedicated to building the field of Community Psychology by advancing theory, action and social justice. It promotes the empowerment of groups and individuals as well as diversity. For more on community research and action: http://www .scra27.org/ Campus Compact Campus Contact is a coalition of college and university presidents. Dedicated to promoting the civic engagement throughout higher education. For more information and resources on higher education service learning: http://www.compact.org Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching Carnegie Foundation strives to advance the best in teaching practices by bringing scholars and practitioners together to create enduring educational change. For more on civic engagement: http://www.carnegiefoundation.org Beyond the Campus, pages 167–168 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

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Corporation for National Service CNCS is a federal agency that supports more than five million Americans engaged in community service including Senior Corps, AmeriCorps as well as Learn and Serve America promoting volunteerism as a vital aspect of citizenship. For more information on national resources for community colleges: www.NationalService.gov High Scope High Scope is a non-profit organization that supports educators and parents through curricula and training programs. For more information on conflict resolution training with young children: http://www.highscope.org International Partnership for Service-Learning IPSL combines travel abroad with community service for undergraduate and graduate students putting learning and practice together for communities worldwide. For more information: http://www.ipsl.org Society for Organizational Learning SOL is dedicated to helping organizations in their quest to learn. For more information on systems thinking and related tools: http://www.solon line.org Teaching Tolerance Teaching Tolerance is a project of the Southern Poverty Law Center providing resources to educators concerned with diversity and equality issues. For more information, resources and teaching tips; www.tolerance.org

Acknowledgements

T

his book is the result of a large group effort over eight years. First, we want to thank the teachers, parents, teacher aides, staff and children who allowed us the space and time to interview, observe and engage with their community. We owe a profound and deep gratitude to the executive director, “Sarah,” our community partner, whose leadership and vision started this project. Her ability to continue this partnership through the inevitable challenges was amazing and her willingness to write from the shadows as a community partner reveals her passionate and genuine belief in social justice. We owe much thanks to Shawn Healy, Junko Matsuo, and Michael Gerskovich for contributing their time and effort to support teachers in their classrooms during the first phase of this project. Debra Harkins deeply thanks her husband of 20 years, Bill Balint, her son Joseph, her parents, Sylvia and John, her sister Marsha, and her Aunt Mary for being her most supportive and loyal fans as well as a big thanks to her amazing friends, colleagues, and wonderful students for supporting and helping to make this happen. Sukanya Ray would like to honor the Divine inspiration and grace received for this project. She extends her gratitude to her parents Nabakishore Das, and Basanta Das, her husband Bikram Ray and other family members including Abhijit, Satyajit, Dada and Khudi, her father-in-law Professor Hrudananda Ray and her close friends particulary Arun and Sucheta. Carol Sharicz would like to send her heartfelt thanks to her husband Karl Sharicz, her daughters Nicole and Marianne, her wonderful friends Beyond the Campus, pages 169–170 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

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and dear students. Elizabeth Doppler-Bourassa would like to thanks her parents, Rich and Luci Doppler, for their unabashed pride in her achievements, large and small.  Elizabeth would also like to thank her husband, Jason Bourassa, for the understanding and patience it takes to commit to a person who chooses to study interpersonal conflict. Michelle Ronayne would like to thank her husband Michael Audie, her step-daughter Devon for supporting her during the dissertation process and her parents for serving as the inspiration to see it through to the end. Clare Mehta would like to thank her parents, Ann and Ramik Mehta for giving her the values, means, and support to pursue four degrees, three of which were undertaken abroad. Clare would also like to thank her husband and brother, and all those who believed in her and pushed her to succeed, including her mentors, JoNell Strough and Lydia Shrier, and the entire community action project team. Johnny Nguyen would like to thank his parents Jennifer and Hieu Nguyen who challenged him and gave him the tools to be the person he is today. Johnny thanks his sisters, Chuckiey Nguyen, Dr. Linh Nguyen, Lorrain Tran, Hoang-Dung Doan and friends for being motivators to achieve great potential and a special thanks to his mentors Drs. Harkins and Ronayne without which none of this would be possible. Jody PimentelEye would like to express her gratitude to her partner Christi Eye, mother Ann, step-mother Marge, brother Charlie, and the mentors and friends who support her personally and professionally.  A special thank you to David Jefferson, Mary Pynn and Twyla Wolfe who went above and beyond with multiple reviews to help Beyond the Campus become a better book. We are grateful to Debendra Biswal, artist from Orissa India who illustrated the Banyan tree for the book cover poignantly reflecting the essence of our perspective in this book.

About the Authors

Debra A. Harkins, PhD, is an Associate Professor of Psychology at Suffolk University. Debra was the lead investigator during this multi-year project. Debra conducts action-based research on community, service learning, consulting, and diversity issues and serves as a consultant and a public speaker. She possesses extensive experience consulting with agencies and individual clients on issues of teambuilding, diversity, communication, strategic planning, and conflict resolution. Debra’s research in consulting, coaching, diversity, education, and development has been presented in many journals and conferences. She has received awards and honors from Who’s Who among American Teachers, American Women, and Excellence in Graduate Teaching. Debra is the founder of Leading Change Associates, an executive coach and consulting organization specialized in diversity training, teambuilding, and strategic planning. Sukanya Ray, PhD, is an Associate Professor of Psychology at Suffolk University. Sukanya was a committee member for three doctoral dissertations that arose from this project. Sukanya research on immigrant community, health, resiliency and culture has been presented in many conferences and journals. She has served as board member for different National Community Service Organizations that promote health and well-being of Asian and immigrant communities. She has offered educational, women’ empowerment, community outreach and wellness programs for immigrants and Asian communities. She has also hosted multicultural and diversityBeyond the Campus, pages 171–174 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

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training programs at various community service centers, educational and non-profit organizations. Sukanya has been the recipient of a nomination for outstanding faculty, several university-based community service learning awards, travel grants, and a team award for outstanding service to Asian and Pacific Islander communities in Massachusetts. She has taught multicultural, cultural diversity, community and teambuilding courses at universities in Australia and the USA. Carol Ann Sharicz, EdD, is a senior research and teaching fellow in the Doctoral program, Organizational Leadership concentration, at Northeastern University. Carol was a dissertation committee member for three dissertations that arose from this multi-year project. Carol provides theoretical background for underlying dysfunctional systemic issues (in Chapter 2— System theory). Carol was responsible for co-designing two Masters Programs at Suffolk University, in Adult and Organizational Learning, and in Human Resources. She has also co-designed several Graduate Certificates and the institution’s post-Masters Degree in Organizational Development. Carol has been the recipient of several “Outstanding Faculty” awards at Suffolk, as well as the “Outstanding Women Leaders” award. To date, Carol has research, teaching, or consulting experience in 12 different countries, including Australia, Brazil, Europe, India, Japan, Russia and post-Soviet Union countries.  Her prior work experience includes being a senior training and organization development instructor for Motorola, Inc. Elizabeth Doppler-Bourassa, PhD, works full time as a therapist at the Center for Expressive Arts Therapy and Education (C.R.E.A.T.E!) in Manchester, New Hampshire. Elizabeth was a doctoral graduate student who participated in the initial development and implementation stages of the project. She completed her doctoral dissertation on the empowerment of teachers in the conflict resolution process. Elizabeth contributed reflections on power issues when working with teachers (in Chapter 5—Conflict Resolution). She continues to apply her experience with conflict, power, and negotiation by serving as a Divorce Coach and Child Specialist with the Collaborative Law Alliance of New Hampshire. Collaborative Divorce is a process facilitated by a multi-disciplinary team to assist couples in negotiating respectful divorce settlements without litigation. Manila Austin, PhD, is the Vice-president of Research at Communispace Corporation, a company that builds and facilitates online communities for major brands and corporation. Manila was a doctoral graduate student at the second phase of the project and worked directly with the director team at the center. She completed her doctoral dissertation on teambuilding

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with nonprofit organization. Manila contributed her reflections on lessons learned working with the executive team (in Chapter 6—teambuilding). Manila is particularly interested in leveraging her academic research to achieve a deeper understanding of how interpersonal processes and factors contribute to community and organizational development—how online communities are transforming traditional notions of business, what benefits companies gain from engaging customers through community, and what companies can do to leverage consumer-generated media for insight, co-development, and competitive advantage. Michelle Ronayne, PhD, is an Adjunct Professor of Psychology at Newbury College, Southern New Hampshire University and New England College as well as a therapist at Nova Psychiatric Services in Quincy, MA. Michelle was a doctoral graduate student who joined the team at the end of the project. She completed her doctoral dissertation on the power dynamics revealed through linguistic analysis of team meetings. Michelle contributed reflections on power dynamics that emerged related to diversity issues (in Chapter 7—Power and privilege). Michelle’s wide range of research interests includes the study of issues such as empowerment, empathy and power; she is currently exploring the role of media in our perceptions of these variables.  Clare M. Mehta, PhD, is an Assistant Professor of Psychology at Emmanuel College, and a Staff Scientist in the Division for Adolescent Medicine at Boston Children’s Hospital/Harvard Medical School. Clare worked on the project as an undergraduate student research assistant. She also used data from the project for her first master’s thesis. Clare contributed her reflections (in Chapter 8—Student voices) when she worked on the project as an undergraduate student. She considers how the project affected her development as an undergraduate student and how her involvement influenced her career path. Clare’s current research focuses on how sex, gender and related social processes (e.g. sex segregation) influence adolescents and young adult’s beliefs and behaviors. Clare’s work has been published in peer-reviewed journals, newsletters, and has been presented at national conferences. Johnny P.Q. Nguyen, MA, is an Adjunct Professor of psychology and sociology and a practicing clinician. Johnny obtained his Bachelor degree from Suffolk University and a Master’s in Mental Health Counseling and Behavioral Medicine from Boston University School of Medicine. Johnny is currently working on obtaining his PhD in clinical psychology in California where his area of research is focused on Asian communities and LGBTQI issues in school and at home. Johnny has co-authored peer reviewed articles

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and presented at various conferences both nationally and internationally. In his work as an educator, he has mentored students to present at various conferences. Johnny is passionate about working with communities in need and education. He is currently involved with several community groups, including an organization that he founded, whose mission is to work with youths to boost self-esteem and confidence. Jody H. Pimentel-Eye, Psy.D., is a psychologist with the Kentucky Department of Corrections. As an undergraduate student, Jody began working on the project as a research assistant and shares her reflections (in chapter 8 – Student voices). Jody’s research experience has focused on substance abuse and DUI, clinical supervision, and teaching. She has co-authored articles for peer-reviewed journals and presented at state and national conferences. Jody is committed to working with diverse, underserved populations and her clinical interests include trauma, severe and persistent mental illness, forensic psychology, and the LGBTQ population.

Index

A action learning, 23, 37 academic duty, 11 accountability, 18, 24, 27; civic engagement, 41; teambuilding, 72 action research, 38–40, 43, 46 Allen, S., 11, 16, 162 Americorps, 8, 37 Anderson, D., 16, 148 Anyon, Y., 148 Arcaro-McPhee, R., 63, 155 Argyris, C., 47, 155 Ashcraft, C., 102, 155 Astin, A. W., 8, 38, 155 Austin, M.S., 5, 18–20, 43, 55, 73, 86, 155, 163 Avalos, R., 38, 155

B Bach, R., 39, 108, 110, 156 banking education model, 32, 37 Beaumont, E., 9, 36, 37, 157 Bellah, R. N., 156, Benson, L., 6, 9, 129, 150, 156 Bess, J., 19, 156

best practices, 26, 40 Bickmore, K., 63, 156 Bok, D., 3, 7,9,11,156 Bollig, N., 38, 108, 165 Boyd, B., 129, 156 Boyle-Baise, M., 8–11, 35, 38, 156 Boyer, E., 8–11, 35, 156 Boyte, H., 8, 9, 156 Bretherton, I., 86, 158 Bringle, R. G., 12, 37, 40, 148, 156, 157 Brown, M. A., 39–40, 148, 157, 162 Brownell, J., 38, 157 Burke, W. W., 15, 157 Burns, M., 15, 164 Bushouse, B. K., 129, 187 Butin, D., 38, 157

C Cambron-McCabe, N., 12, 164 Campus Compact, 7, 36 capacity building, 18, 25 Carnegie Foundation, 11 Carucci, R., 100, 157 case studies, 53 challenges, 16 Chen, J., 148, 157

Beyond the Campus, pages 175–181 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved.

175

176    Index Chesbrough, R. D., 108, 157 Chesterton, G. K., 31, 157 Civil Rights Movement, 36 civic engagement, 5–12, 31–34, 108; university/college administrative support, 35; community participation, 35; community-based action reserch, 38 civic responsibility, 5, 9, 11; citizens, 11; civically engaged citizens, 9, 40 Clary, E. G., 39, 127, 157 classroom conflict, 60 classroom observation, 50, 52–53, 111 Clayton, P. H., 12, 108, 147, 156, 159 collaboration, xvii, 3–4, 13–14, 24, 44; university–community, 31; inquiry, 36; sustainability, 120, 134 Colby, A., 9, 11, 12, 36–37, 157 college students, 4–5 commitment, 16; stakeholder, 21; teambuilding, 72 communication, 15; and communitybased action research, 39; civic engagement, 41; teambuilding, 93 community, 11, 13, 67, 149, 152; input, 25; and method community service, 31, 34; overview, 45; teambuilding, 94, 135–136; students’ perspectives, 107,109–110, 122; partnership, 138 Community based action research, 34, 38–40, 43; students’ perspectives, 107–108, 119–120, 122 conflict, 8, 18, 20, 50–51, 82, 87–89; and civic engagment, 36; and classroom, 60; team, 72–74, 87 conflict resolution, 20, 43, 50, 59–61, 155–158 conflict resolution training, 43, 50–51 consultants, 80–82, 87; power, 97 Conville, R., 148, 158 Cooke, D., 39, 116, 162 Corngold, J., 37, 157

Corporation for National and Community Service Trust, 8 creative, 16 crisis in higher education, 3 critical thinking, 38 Crossan, M., 13–15, 23, 157 Culley, M., 97, 158 cultural injustice, x culture, 11 curriculum, 10–12, 36–37

D Dahl, R., 96, 158 Davis, T., 101, 160 Dallimore, E., 39, 108–110, 158 Dee, J., 1 9, 156 Delbanco, A., 3–4, 9, 11, 158 DeMillo, R., 3, 5, 158 Demb, A., 12, 165 Deutsch, M., 63, 158 Developmental injustice, ix developmental view 17–19 DeVries, R., 139, 158 Dewey, J., 6, 147 Demark, G., 102, 158 dialogue, 14, 21, 27; civic engagment, 41 distributed leadership, 23–24 distributive justice, ix diversity, 9, 102, 149, 160, 163, 165; and civic engagment, 35 Doppler, E., 43, 63, 68, 155, 158 Dorado, S., 150, 158 dropout rates, 4 dsyfunctions of a team, 72 Duncan, A., 4, 8, 158 Dunn, J., 86, 158 Dutton, J., 12, 164 dynamics, 13–15, 27

E early education, 43, 45–46; educators, 47; preschool, 47; power, 96 education, 5–12, 32

Index     177 Edmonson, A., 72, 158 Ehrlich,T., 9, 12, 36–37, 157 Empathy, 134 empowerment, 18; and civic engagement, 41; teambuilding, 91; partnership, 133–134, 138 engaged scholars, 11, 14, 35 engagement, 22 ethics, 9 Evans, Y., 53, 158 executive director 44–54; interviews, 55; teambuilding, 72; power, 95; sustainability, 130 expertise, 63, 74 Eyler, J., 38, 159

GI Bill, 6 Gerard, C., 21, 161 GI Bill, 6 Gibson, C., 9, 160 Giles, D.E., 38, 150, 159 Giroux, H. A., 101, 160 global learning, 11 globalization, 9 goals, 45; of higher education, ix, 9–19; consultants, 98; partnership, 136, 148–153 Golden Rule, 85 Goleman, D., 47, 63, 160 Government, 7, 11 Gray, C., 38, 159

F

H

facilitation, 80–82 faculty engagement, 10–11, 35 fairness, ix–x, 11 Faust, D., 3, 11, 159 federal support, 7–8 Felton, P., 108, 159 Fernandez, M., 147, 155 Ferrall, V. E., 3, 159 Ferrari, J. R., 39, 108–109, 112, 159 Finland, 22 Fisher, R., 38, 108, 137, 159 five pillars of purpose and partnership, 22 Fixes that fail, 19 Foucault, M., 95, 101, 159 Fourth Way, 22 fragmentation, 19 Frankel, P., 48, 159 Freire, P., 13, 19, 31–33, 37, 97, 99,101, 159 Fullan, M., 22, 24, 25, 160 Furco, A., 35, 37, 159

Hacker, A., 3–4, 160 Hall, C., 39, 162 Hameline, T., 48, 159 Handler, M. G., 148, 163 Hargreaves, A., 22–25, 160 Harkavy, I., 6,9, 17, 129, 147, 150, 156, 160 Harkins, D. A., 7–8, 13, 18–19, 43, 53, 55, 63, 68, 73, 86, 96–97, 101, 104, 155–156, 158, 160, 161–164 Hatcher, J. A., 11–12, 37, 40, 148, 156 Head Start, 46 Heen, S., 63, 165 Held, V., 13, 96, 97, 141, 160 Hersch, R., 3, 11, 160 higher education, 3, 9–10, 35, 156, 160, 167 Higher Education Act, 6 high performing, 18, 22; team, 71 Hilgendorf, A., 129, 165 Hirsh, E., 139, 160 Hirsh, S. K., 139, 160 Hirsh, K., 139, 160 Hohenbrink, J., 129, 156 Hoffman, M., 39–40, 53, 85, 107–108, 112, 160, 164 Holland, B. A., 129, 148, 150, 164 Hollander, B. A., 8–9, 147, 156

G Gaskell, J., 102, 159 gender issues, 103 generative, 16

178    Index hooks, b., 99, 160, Horsch, P., 148, 157 Howard, J.P.F., 38, 162–163, Hughey, J., 97, 158 Huq, J., 12, 157 Hyde, C., 39, 108–109,160

I Identity, 35, 92 individual, 14 inequalities 32, 102 interpersonal justice, ix internships, 34 intervention, xvii, 66, 73; sustainability, 67 interviews, 53, 55 institutionalizing, 13–14 integrating, 13–14 intepreting, 13–14 intuiting, 13–14

J Jacoby, B., 9, 12, 34, 36, 147, 160 Janke, E. M., 12, 148, 160 Johnston, M. A., 129, 156, 161 Jason, L., 39, 40, 108–109, 112, 159 Jones, J., 102, 160 journals, 52 justice, ix–x

K Kamenetz, A., 3, 161 Kamya, H., 48, 161 Keddie, A., 102, 161 Kegan, R., 41, 78, 90, 161 Kennedy, D., 12, 161 Kim D., 16, 161 Kinnell, A., 148, 158 King, D.C., 38, 162 Kleiner, A., 12, 164 Kline, P., 65, 161 Knapp, T., 108, 120, 161 knowledge, 8–9, 24, 32; and civic engagement, 36–37

Kolodny, A., 3, 11,161 Kronman, A., 4, 5, 7, 9, 161 Kull, K., 13, 161

L Lahey, L., 71, 78, 90,161 Lane, H., 13–14, 158 leadership, 15, 18, 34, 107, 138; and transactional, 15; shared, 15; laissez-faire, 19; distributed, 23; leadership, 25; civic engagement, 36; teambuilding, 92; partnership, 138 learning, 11, 13–14, 31; action, 23; community-based action research, 39; community service, 31; conflict management, 21; learner, 33; learning outcomes, 119; liberation, 33; organizational, 20; teacher, 23; traditional, 33 Learn and Serve, 8, 37 learning communities, 13–14; and systems view, 22–25; and best practices, 26 Lencioni, P., 71, 75–76, 161 lessons, 14; conflicts 60, 63, 65, 68; team, 73, 78, 84; power, 100–103; students’ perspectives, 110, 112, 116; partnership, 133, 135–136 Levesque-Bristol, C., 38, 108, 161 Lewin, K., 19, 47–48, 161 Lewis, H., 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, 161 Li, Y., 21, 161 liberation learning 32–35 Liu, G., 37, 162 Loving, K., 38, 108, 165 Lucas, T., 12, 164 Ludwig, J., 46, 162 Lukes, S., 96–97, 162

M Madsen, R., 8, 156 Maich, K., 39, 162 Manokore, V., 24, 163

Index     179 Marginalization, 47 Markus, G.B., 38, 162 Martin. A., 129, 165 Martino, D., 102, 161–162 Marullo, S., 39, 116–117, 162 Maslow, A., 135, 162 Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, 131–132 Maurrasse, D. J., 5–6, 9, 162 McNall, M., 148, 162 Meadows, D., 16– 17, 20, 26, 162 Mehta, C., 5, 7–8, 14, 18, 68, 158 mental models, 16, 23 Merrow, J., 3, 160 method, 43 Meyer, A., 39, 108–109, 160 Miller, J., 96, 37, 162 Mills, M., 102, 162 mission, 23; and higher education, 5, 7–8, 11–12; civic engagment, 41 Moayedi, R., 39, 116, 162 moral values, 8; reasoning, 38 Morrill Act, 5 Morrill, R., 9, 162 Morrison, M., 12, 157,162 Morrissey, T., 46, 162 Morton, K., 37, 129, 162 Mullen, A., 102, 159 Munn, P., 86, 158 Myers Briggs Type Indicator, 74 Myers, I.B., 74, 141, 162 Myers, P. B., 39, 108–109, 162

N Nadler, A., 152, 162 National Community Service Act, 7, 36 National Defense Education, 8 National Service Day, 8 National Science Foundation, 6 needs assessment, 44–49, 51, 54, 63, 91–94, 138; of university–community partnership, 150 negotiation, 39, 134 Nellis, M., 129, 165 Nelson, G., 18, 163 networks, 25

Newman, C. M., 6, 163 Nyguen, J., 5, 8, 14, 104, 162

O Oppenshaw, K., 40, 165 Oppressed, 32 organization, 13–14, developmental, 17; high performance, 18; sustainable practice, 18; capacity building, 18; skills,18; accountability, 18; power, 95 organizational learning, 20, 138 Owens, R., 23, 163

P Palmer, P., 9–11, 163 Parenti, M., 96–97, 163 partnership, x, 1, 3, 7–8, 29, 35, 40–41, 119, 129; 150; conflict resolution, 21; exiting partnership, 143; university–community, 31; and community-based action research, 40; best practices, 40; partners, 48; students’ perspectives, 119; sustainability, 129. 131, 139 Patton, B., 63, 165 Paul, E., 120, 163 Peace Corp, 36 pedagogy, 11–12, 24, and Freire, 31–32; learning paradigms, 33 Peeters, J., 102, 163 Peresie, J., 39, 108, 165 personal advancement, 8 personal gratification, 8 personl responsibility, 11 post-intervention, 73 Postman, N., 3–4, 11, 163 power, 63, 95–97, 101, 105, 135, 149, 151–153 and distributive, 15; and learning, 33; power over, 96; power to, 96; power inequalities, 102; power dynamics, 8, 116–119, 149, 151–152;

180    Index power sharing, 32, 63, 120; privilege, 100; students’ perspectives, 116–120; partnership, 135 preparation and planning, 151 Price, R., 12, 148, 156 Prilleltensky, I., 5, 8, 14, 163 procedural justice, ix professional development, 123–127; and practice 23; teambuilding, 93; students’ perspectives, 123 process, 15, 25–26, 65, 151 public subsidies, 6 Puckett, J., 129, 156 Putnam, R., 8, 163

Q quantitative analysis, 53

R Randall, K., 97, 164 Ravid, R., 148, 163 Ray, S., 101, 160 Reed, C., 148, 162 Reddy, M., 38, 108, 165 Reischl, T., 97, 164 relational justice, ix relationship, 68, 133 reflection, 21, 23 research, 3–5 reponsibility, 23 retributive justice, ix Rhoads, R., 38, 163 Richmond, G., 24, 163 Rochefort, D. A., 39, 108, 158 role model, 11, 78 Ronayne, M., 5, 8, 18, 43, 96–97, 104, 163 Rosenberg, P., 38, 164 Rosing, H., 39–40, 108, 112, 164

S Salem, D., 97, 164 Sandy, M., 150, 164 Saunders, B., 65, 161

Sawhill, I., 46, 162 Sax, I, J., 38, 155 Schein, E., 48, 75, 100, 152 ,164 Scheper, N., 4, 164 Schon, D.A., 19, 47, 155 Schneider, M., 4, 164 Schrecker, E., 3, 164 Seblonka, K., 129, 165 Secretary of Education, 8 self, 11; Maslow’s basic hierarchy of needs, 131 Senge, P., 12, 15, 17–21, 45, 48, 63–64, 69, 72 service, 3 service learning, 34, 36–38; students’ perspectives, 107 Senior Corps, 37 Senor, B., 12, 157 Severier, B., 102, 155 Shannon, M., 48, 159 shared leadership, 15 shared vision, 23, 26, 134 Sharicz, C., 5, 7, 18, 43, 101, 163 Shulova, I., 53, 164 Schultz, D., 38, 164 Sigman, R.L., 37 164 Simonelli, K., 39, 108, 158 Simons, M., 40, 165 skills, 18, 20 Smith, B., 12, 143, 164 Smith–Lever Act, 6 Slavkin, M. J., 108, 164 Sleeter, A., 38, 165 Smedley, A., 102, 165 Smirles, K., 108, 165 Snyder, M., 39, 127, 157, social change, 35 social justice, ix–x, 36 social responsibility, 11–12, 36 stakeholders, 18, 20–21, 27; civic engagement, 41; conflict resolution, 65 Stenson, J., 38, 159 Stephens, J., 9, 36, 157 Stockmann, D., 39, 108, 165 Stoecker, R., 38–40, 108, 129, 165

Index     181 Stone, D., 63, 165 Strand, E.T., 38–39, 165 standardization, 33, 94 student engagement, 107, 110, 112, 119, 122; student interest, 35; students’ perspectives, 107; student investment, 112, 116; 120 Suffolk University, 40 Sullivan, W. M., 8, 156 sustainability, 8, 25, 129–130; and leadership, 23; civic engagement, 41; students’ perspective, 120; partnership, 139, 143 sustainable practice, 18, 27; students’ perspectives, 119 Swaner, L. E., 38, 157 Swidler, A., 8, 156 systems thinking, 13–27 and systemic structure, 16; conflict resolution, 21

University of Chicago, 6 Urban Corp, 36 Ury, W., 137, 139, 159 U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare, 8

T

W

Taylor, M., 11, 165 teacher interviews, 53 teacher learning, 23–24 teaching, 3–10 team, 3, 5, 8, 14, 54, 71, 80–82 teambuilding, 54, 152 Tetenbaum, T., 100, 157 Thomas, K., 16, 165 Tipton, S. M., 8, 156 traditional learning, 32–33 training, 120 transactional leadership, 15 triadic mission, 7 trust, 8, 44, 65, 91, 138, 148–149; teambuilding, 71–72, 91; partnership, 133 Tryon, T., 100, 129, 165 turnover rates, 130

Wade, A., 1, 2, 165 Waldrof, V., 39, 108, 165 Wardle, F., 102, 165 Warner, M., 46, 162 Weber, M., 96, 165 Weinzimmer, J., 39, 108, 110, 156 wellbeing, spiritual, 9; national, 9 wellness, ix–x Werner, C. M., 40, 165 Westhoven, J., 129, 156 White, R., 13–14, 158 wholeness, 19 Willis, J., 39–40, 108–109, 112, 120, 165 Wittgenstein, L., 153, 165 Wolff, T., 3, 160 Worrall, L., 129, 166

U

Zan, B., 139, 158 Zajonc, A., 9–11,163 Zhu, Z., 21, 34, 161 Zlotkowski, E., 12, 16

University–community partnerships, 40, 147; sustainability, 129, 136

V values, 23, 37; teambuilding, 77; partnership, 136 Varlotta, I. E., 38, 165 vision, 10, 14–16, 23, 134, 136, 138–139 and shared leadership, 15; systems, 22; leadership, 25; best practice, 27; civic engagement, 41; and community, 45 Volunteers in Service to America (VISTA), 36 Voce, R., 40, 165 volunteerism, 34

Z