It seems to me that when these four concepts are approached from an academic standpoint, they appear to be distinct entities occupying separate spheres of community. In practice, however, it seems to me that studying, providing services to, organizing, and being part of a community are experiences that often overlap. I’ve found, both from my personal experiences with community engagement and Timothy Black’s account of his relationships with and study of Springfield residents, involvement in one area of a community often leads to engagement in other factions, and this dynamic association, fostering profound connection, is necessary for any effort at community involvement.
If one were to examine Timothy Black’s writing through a purely scholastic lens, she would label his work an ethnography and describe how he studied a group of three brothers, and some recurring characters, through a considerable duration of their lives. Following them through their troubles with school, work, life on the street, family loyalty, and the rest of life’s challenges, Black did indeed document their experiences, compiling his observations into a book notable for realism and attention to nuance in depicting the individual’s lives, as well as its ability to illuminate larger social forces at work, pointing out the influence of race, class, and institutions in shaping the lives of the subjects he studied. Although this description is correct, it is nowhere near complete, for saying Black merely studied his subjects drastically underestimates his involvement. The truth is that over the course of his eighteen-year study, he formed significant and meaningful relationships with the individuals he chose to study, leaving the distinctions of ethnographer and student behind as he became a confidant, tutor, basketball teammate, and friend to the Rivera brothers. Instead of limiting his interactions to specifically defined and pre-planned interviews, Black became a presence in the many different parts of the brothers’ lives. He didn’t just talk to them one on one in the classroom, but rather, went with them to the streets, the courts, their homes, and the clubs. Black was not simply conducting a study of a community, he was becoming a part of the community. The relationships he developed fostered a sense of trust, propelling more truthful conversations, as well as making his observations more accurate and insightful, stemming from a deeper understanding of the neighborhood and its residents. Although his incorporation did have its limits—his age, race, and status restricted his fitting in—over time he did maintain a considerable level of commitment and connection to the community, and it was this engagement on a social and personal level that allowed him to write such a powerful ethnography. While it may be perceived as counterintuitive, Black’s becoming part of the community was absolutely crucial to his study of the community.
Reflecting on my own experiences with community engagement, I’ve noticed a similar theme. I’ve found that strictly delineated categories of involvement—I’m here to serve, not to be served, to help those in need—quickly fall away as I dig in and get involved. The concepts of giver/receiver, worker/wanting, helper/helped, are revealed to be more of imposed constructs than reality. To me, community engagement is hindered by hiding behind a limited role (I’m the tutor, I’m here to teach, not to learn; I’m the community organizer, I’m here to guide these people, I know what’s best, not them), and in order to effectively engage in any aspect of community one must recognize the superficiality of these identities. Once the idea of community is taken outside the classroom, I’ve found that roles overlap, and it is commonalities, not distinctions that are most salient in effecting desired outcomes. Perhaps this notion is cliché and overwrought, but it seems to me an important thought to remember as we move forward with our community engagement projects.