“Is community service actually helping… or just for college apps?”:The Ethics of Performative Volunteerism

Community service can be thought of as an act of generosity—a way to show compassion, give back, and help others. But with the rising competition for college admissions, a new question begs to be asked: is volunteering truly about making a difference, or has it become just another line on a resume? This struggle between truly wanting to help and just wanting to look good has sparked uncomfortable yet necessary conversations among students about what giving back really means.

Nowadays, many students participate in short, high-profile volunteer events: cleaning up a park for a morning, wrapping gifts during the holidays, or running a one-time charity drive. Of course, these experiences aren't bad; even quick acts of service can open eyes and inspire people. Where the problem really starts is when the motivations change. If volunteering is more about looking helpful than actually being helpful, its true meaning is lost. What at one time was about coming together for a good cause easily morphs into ways to boost someone's image.

For community organizations, performative volunteering can sometimes cause more headaches than it helps. Most important programs—such as tutoring, running shelters, helping people with disabilities, or protecting the environment—require steady, long-term support. However, volunteer interest tends to peak at certain times of the year or immediately before applications are due. What this usually means is that organizations invest high levels of energy in training successive groups of volunteers who may not necessarily remain. The staff must continue to run orientations, supervise people with little experience, and sometimes even repair mistakes. Ironically, having too many short-term volunteers at once actually slows down the work that really matters.

There's also a big difference between what looks good and what actually makes a lasting difference. One-day events give quick, picture-perfect results—like a spotless beach or neatly stacked donations. These moments are easy to post online and celebrate. But behind the scenes, less flashy work—like tutoring the same student every week, helping people with disabilities, or supporting long-term health programs—rarely gets noticed. These efforts take time, patience, and commitment, and the results often take a while to show. Because this kind of service doesn't fit neatly into a photo or a resume bullet point, it's often ignored—though it's much more valuable.

But the question of motivation complicates things further. It's not particularly fair to ask volunteers, especially teenagers, to be completely selfless at all times. Most people begin to volunteer for many reasons: perhaps a sense of curiosity, perhaps as a result of pressure, or perhaps to acquire experience. Often, real passion grows later on. The problem isn't that some people start out thinking about themselves. The real issue is that the system pushes everyone to focus on what looks good rather than what actually works. When schools and programs reward hours over real impact, it's hard to blame anyone for playing along.

So the bigger ethical question isn't about individual volunteers; it is about the incentives we have created and what they reveal about our values. The minute service gets treated as a box to check by colleges and schools, it's no longer viewed any differently than any other transaction. Organizations are left stuck between needing help and dealing with the downsides of people coming and going. Real meaning is brought back through community service, in which both volunteers and institutions reflect on what “impact” really means. None of it has to do with the amount of hours one logs or how many photos one shares; instead, it's about showing up and truly caring to make a difference that lasts. Service should be about building real relationships and stronger communities, not merely about putting up a show for college admissions. Facing the problem of performative volunteering requires honesty and a willingness to be uncomfortable. But that's the only way community service can become what it's supposed to be: a true, shared effort to make real, lasting change.