How APEX isn’t promoting a kind of selfless service

When the temperature drops and the candle section in Target makes the much-anticipated shift from candy floral to cozy autumnal scents, there is an instinctive shift in the atmosphere at St. Joe’s.

Typically following the anxiety and stress of midterms, harmony is restored among students as the anticipated announcement of the Appalachian Experience (APEX) leaders dominates all social media. 

It seems like every app from Twitter to Instagram is flooded with photos of students posing in trees, embracing in replicated candid laughter and spewing corny puns about the location they are being sent to.

While I understand the excitement of an impending trip, as I scroll through photos of my peers, I am confronted by the fact that every year and every APEX season I have spent on this campus has made me feel increasingly detached from wanting to be involved in service.

We pride ourselves in being a university that does more, going beyond being just scholars to make an impact in our community. There are dozens of service opportunities available to students at St. Joe’s and for that reason, among many others, I am humbled to be a student at such a generous and selfless university. However, there is something so inherently problematic with the branding and promotion of APEX that each year has angered and disappointed me.

I would venture to say that there is not and never will be, a single St. Joe’s student who has not heard of APEX. It is this campus’ pride and joy, only spoken of positively—untouchable. It is almost administered.

I am exhausted of hearing every fall the same cliché APEX pitch from seemingly every person I encounter here: “you HAVE to sign up for APEX, you’ll cry together and bond with so many people you don’t know, you’ll make so many lifelong friends.”

The push to sign up is never about truly devoting yourself to service and the impact you could have on something much bigger than yourself. Instead, the marketing of the service trip is centered around APEX as an experience for students, a retreat of sorts.

There is nothing harmful about wanting to form stronger bonds with your peers, but if the goal of the trip is to promote inclusion, then the cliques that form as a result of a week in the mountains seems highly contradictory.

Are we so far removed from reality and emotionally barren that crying with strangers on top of a sleeping bag sounds so appealing? Or have we just become so blinded by the alluring cult-like promise of APEX—a way to escape our privileged middle–class lives to have our very own recreation of “Into the Wild.”

I am extremely troubled by the likeness of APEX to the ‘Western Savior Complex’ and ‘voluntourism.’ As defined by The Stanford Daily, “Voluntourism [is] when affluent Westerners spend loads of money for the opportunity to travel to and ‘improve’ a community.” Though it may seem selfless—surrendering your spring break to spend a week doing manual labor with little cellphone reception—APEX is less about “how can I serve,” and more about “how can service benefit me.” We want to feel good about ourselves by ‘helping’ the less fortunate.

The fundamental issue is that people need to be sold on an idea. That is what APEX branding does so well. They advertise and promote service as more than just giving yourself—you get something in return.

APEX attributes valor to those who serve others by making them heroes in their own stories while simultaneously marketing the retreat aspect of the trip as a revamped sense of union and community among your peers. Students become so enveloped in this wonderful and glamourized rendering that they essentially become willing members of the exclusive club.

Perhaps we should confront the fact that some part of each of us is selfish. We want the gratification that service gives. But it is vital to try and see past the charm of APEX and uncover what it really is—privileged students hammering aimlessly on construction sites and snapping photos of the mountains with the caption, “what a rewarding experience #APEX2018.”

Instead of flocking in masses to Appalachia, we should look around our own city. Before running away to go be a hero somewhere else, there are endless projects in Philadelphia that would benefit immensely from the number of people who sign up every year for APEX.

There is no need to fundraise hundreds of dollars to send students to other states when that money could easily be donated to local projects. 

Service, contrary to what APEX makes it seem, is not just a week without your cell phone and sleeping on the floor of a gymnasium to humble you and build character.

Service is about using your privilege to give back, to contribute something of benefit, selflessly. We must remember that the best place to start is home.