
Here’s to a wonderful 2021!
-Meridian

So, last week, I posted a sharable holiday card for volunteers. Nice, huh, cause volunteers love getting cards from organizations, right? Cards mean we care, we appreciate (and we all know volunteer appreciation, no matter what it consists of, especially if it involves balloons, is the key to volunteer retention), we go the extra mile to engage our volunteers. What could be wrong with that?
Funny thing. Ironically, as I was sitting at my desk, on my laptop, posting the volunteer card, I was also looking at a pile of holiday cards I received from various nonprofits I’ve volunteered for. And my reaction to some of them? I just laughed. (Not the intended reaction, I’m sure)
I laughed because I’ve been inactive at some nonprofits. I’ve not been contacted, surveyed, or asked what I’d like to do or heaven forbid, why I am not volunteering anymore. I’ve not been offered any “opportunities.” I basically sit on a list, like countless other volunteers. My name is a number.
I have to admit, I’ve been mindlessly guilty of thinking cards mean the same thing to every volunteer. I’d think “hey, I HAVE to keep in touch with each and every person that even so much as breathed the words, “what’s this volunteering about?” I’d think, “how can I keep my hooks into this prospective volunteer?” And I also thought, “if I send this pretty card, surely that will make this inactive (or grieving or ill or suffering or unsure) volunteer whip out their phone and give me a jingle.”
I could picture that volunteer, gazing at the glittery goodness, thinking, “wow, I’ve been so selfish. I need to contact Meridian. It doesn’t matter that the department she assigned me to never followed through. She’ll get me something better, I just know it!”

I knew a CEO who thought that volunteers would feel special getting cards signed personally by her. Never mind she rarely interacted with volunteers during the year.
As a volunteer, I look at the cards from certain organizations as a waste of time and money. I actually feel that instead of connecting me to the organization, it has the opposite effect. The tone-deaf mindset alienates me further.
So, don’t send cards? No, send them, but not mindlessly. Some of the cards I received included timely messages about the organization’s work. I find that more engaging than a simple signature. But a message to me as an active volunteer when I’m not, is tone-deaf.
If I haven’t volunteered of late, messages such as “and thank you for volunteering this year,” reinforces the perception that the organization does not know me, nor cares to. Do I want to volunteer for them now? Eh, probably not, especially if I’ve not felt engaged when I did volunteer.
Once there are more than 30-40 volunteers, the ability to track them personally diminishes, which is why every volunteer manager needs his/her own volunteer administrative help to keep track of each volunteer’s status. Then, cards can work when a more personal message is included.
And you know what? If one of the holiday cards I received had simply said, “We miss you,” I’d have felt like they were talking directly to me. I’d have felt guilty, intrigued, pleased, and motivated by those 3 simple words. Keep your glittery goodness. I want to be acknowledged as a human being.
I’m involved with a start-up. I’m not getting a card from them. They have no regular meetings, no luncheon and drat, there are no balloons, ever. Everything is chaos. But you know what? They know me. That’s my glittery goodness.
Managing personal connections with volunteers is not easy. It’s not simple. It’s not perfect. However, we can chip away at tone-deaf messages by looking at the causes and by forming solutions such as,
Are we sending cards because it’s always been done this way? It’s tradition? I’m not saying don’t send, but how much in volunteer management is done because it’s always been done this way? It’s time to re-think volunteer engagement messaging, language and methods.
What resonates with your volunteers? 2020 has given us the opportunity to change the way we engage volunteers. As the leader of volunteer engagement and impact, look at everything with a fresh eye. You got this.
Oh, BTW, here’s the holiday card I’ve always wanted to send:

-Meridian

Happy Holidays everyone, please feel free to download this holiday mp4 and share with your volunteers. You are welcome to add your logo/personal message.
You are welcome to download here; the video comes directly from this wordpress site.
Wishing all of you, love, peace and joy.
-Meridian

Regrets. We all have them. I have some real doozies in my volunteer engagement career, and I’ve read plenty of advice about how to deal with regrets, including the advice to “let go.”
I don’t know about you, but letting go is not that simple. I still am disappointed at some of my bone-headed mistakes, especially the ones I made, knowing that I shouldn’t have. Those are the tough ones to swallow. (cause, shhhhh, we’re not perfect)
I’m thinking of the time I no-showed a volunteer’s funeral, the volunteer who always came in when I asked and oh, btw, gave a very thoughtful present to one of my children for graduation. I knew I would regret not going, but hey, I told myself I was too busy. Or tired. Lazy, maybe? Doesn’t matter; that one stings.
Or when I knew sending an often unreliable volunteer to that home would result in a disaster. Sure, I had no one else. Sure, it was a tough case. Sure, I wanted to complete the assignment cause I was egotistical about filling assignments. But, I knew it was a mistake and yet, I did it anyway.
Or when I was too busy to double-check on that assignment, cause my gut told me that times and location had changed, but I let it go, until volunteers frantically called me because they were in the wrong place. Yep.
What was I thinking?
Fortunately, I don’t dwell on these lapses in common sense. But I also can’t wipe them from memory like they never happened. Not entirely. So, is feeling guilty the answer? Can I do anything to make amends and wipe the deed from the universe’s memory?
When you make a mistake you regret, look for the lesson. Two weeks ago I wrote about volunteers who teach us to be vigilant. The mistakes we personally make teach us not only are we human and fallible, but we are also adaptive and teachable. The beauty of being human is our ability to grow and learn.
There are some ways to keep regrets from eating away at you. Being constructive and choosing to use the mistake as a springboard to improving puts you in control. Harnessing mistakes means:
Let those tucked away regrets motivate you to be constructive so they don’t turn into full-on guilt. Regrets can either keep us paralyzed by guilt or they can motivate us to grow by making us constructive.
And hey, think about this. Which would your volunteers prefer? A paralyzed by guilt leader or one beautifully human, who embraces constructive changes and is visibly growing in leadership skills?
Not a tough choice.
-Meridian
If you are having overwhelming feelings of guilt, shame or hopelessness, please reach out to a trusted family member, friend or colleague. These days, additional stressors can exacerbate our feelings of guilt, hopelessness and anxiety. We all experience tough times and knowing when to ask for help is courageous and necessary. Be important to yourself. We need you.
Wishing everyone a moment of reflection and acknowledgement for the work we do to make our world a better place.
-Meridian

Do you ever gush, “Thank you to of all the wonderful volunteers who have inspired me, enriched my soul and taught me compassion?” Yeah, that’s my go-to line because I mean it and I bet you do, too. Besides, isn’t thanking what we volunteer managers do best? (well maybe next to being annoyingly humble)
Volunteers shape us and teach us how to be better leaders. So, maybe we should also thank the volunteers who taught us the lessons that strengthen our characters. You know the ones. Their memories are seared into your psyche like the time you dropped your phone when you learned a trusted volunteer called a client “idiot.” You slunk back to your office when the CEO told you a volunteer tried to sell his daughter’s beat up Chevy to a client’s son. You found a seat way in back and kept your mouth closed in meetings after a volunteer wrote that oddly kind, but wildly misguided letter to the editor, calling your staff “an army of swat unicorns who invade with guns shooting helping dust.”
You never intended a volunteer to try and convert a client’s family to their religious or political beliefs. These are the mop-up lessons. You mop up the mess, apologizing profusely, hoping no one thinks that all volunteers act this way, while explaining that you never gave volunteers permission to move in with a client or take out an ad in the local paper and alter the logo to make it look like it was smiling.
But, honest mistakes aside, think about all the clients saved from unscrupulous volunteers because you learned a hard lesson. Think about all the necessary precautions you take because you were put through the wringer. Think about the watchful eye you developed because you were caught unaware.
Many years ago, volunteer Jacob lied to my face. Again and again. I believed him, not because he was charming and convincing, but because I wanted to believe him. I believed in the romantic notion that all people would set aside their personal agendas for the greater good. I lived in a faerie world in which all volunteers understood the mission and eagerly awaited my instructions so they could change the world.
Jacob showed me that I had to be realistic if I truly wanted to do right by our clients. He showed me that healthy watchfulness did not diminish my job, but rather elevated it to a higher level of purposefulness.
You’ve been through this. We struggle to explain all the carefully measured thought and actions required to match volunteers to clients and programs. Faeries are lovely, but we live in the real world. In the real world, placing volunteers with vulnerable clients takes discerning judgement, careful pairing and keen watchfulness.
I’ve had volunteers who stole, volunteers who pushed an agenda, volunteers who wanted to take over and volunteers who were just mean. I’m still surprised by volunteers who talk a good game and then cause real harm. I’ve also had volunteers who messed up royally because they did something nice, but so misplaced that it caused real harm.
So, I thank Jacob and the others for giving me a discerning nature, for strengthening my resolve to do right and for teaching me that compassion takes the courage to be a sentry.
But every one of these volunteers teach us lessons that mold us into a better leader of volunteers. They teach us to trust, yet verify and to protect the vulnerable people we serve. A successful leader of volunteers must be strong. Conviction means doing what is right, even when it is hard. It means saying no with kindness.
So, let’s silently thank them for those often painful lessons that shape us into stronger leaders.
They never intended to teach us something valuable, but they did, so thanks, you guys.
-Meridian
This is updated from a 2017 post.

So, what’s next for leaders of volunteers? #WeGetToRevampEveryVolunteerRoleSoVolunteersActuallyWantToVolunteerWithUsWhatAConcept!
Ok, maybe we should take it one step at a time. To reframe volunteer engagement and impact, we first need listeners who become supporters who then become advocates for our vision.
Tall order, right? It’s hard enough to get anyone to listen, much less champion the ideas we are advocating for. This is where reputation comes in.
And who will listen to us if our reputation paints us as:
Taking control of the conversation surrounding your volunteer program begins by taking control of your reputation as the leader of volunteers. Look at it like this: Let’s say you go to a bank to open an account. Two bankers are working that day and as you wait, you listen to them talk to clients.
One banker is animated, showing her client the various accounts available. She points to stats, but doesn’t rattle off numbers. She explains how each statistic impacts the client’s vision for financial success. She offers multiple paths to success so the client can grow their investments. She explains in detail how each account functions, their positives and their challenges and yet assures the client that with her expert guidance, financial success will come.

The other banker looks harried. He fumbles through a stack of papers, dropping them on the floor and apologizes for the lack of available options. He grabs a board he obviously made himself that displays the various colors the client can choose for a checkbook cover and points to the blue one, saying “this color is really pretty, don’t you think? “
Who would you pick? (and if you picked the banker who spent his time showing checkbook cover colors, you’re most definitely a volunteer manager who has spent a lot of time “rescuing people,” am I right?)
And to make matters worse, once a perception is established, people then look for signs that reinforce the perception. (We all do it BTW, which is why I always gave this one pompous marketing executive the incomplete copy of a report-cause I figured he’d never read it and I always waited for him to ask where the rest of the report was, but he never did) So, if you’re perceived as being in charge of fluff, people will notice anything that reinforces that perception. Boom, you now have a reputation because people talk.
Start by doing small things that produce big reputation results.
Know it or not, YOU are the face of your volunteer program and the perceptions of how your program is run, lies with you. It can feel overwhelming, but once you take control of the perceptions, you emerge with the reputation as… a leader of volunteers.
I’m not saying it’s easy and I’m not saying it’s instantaneous. But it is doable.
And besides, when have you, volunteer professionals ever backed down from a challenge? (Uh huh, thought so)
-Meridian


International Volunteer Managers Day is tomorrow and the theme for 2020 is: What’s next?
I’ll tell you what’s next. Change-big, big, gargantuan change, that’s what’s next. Sweeping changes, whether we initiate them by adjusting volunteer programs, or they occur naturally in spite of what we do. But changes in volunteerism have been drip, dripping in for years and the pandemic has merely loosened the change valve and allowed a wave of changes to gush in.

So, do we simply amplify our change voices?
Should we yell in the next meeting that “volunteers need respect and true recognition, you fools, not balloons and cute sayings?” Scream over the intercom that “volunteers need meaningful roles, people” and hope that sticks? Put up posters with sayings like “volunteers are human beings, not tools,” or “the volunteer exodus is real?”
“If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.”
– Lao Tzu
What is your perception of yourself? Well, that’s easy, right? Let’s see, I’m
Your self-identity may not be the same as your reputation. You know you possess all those wonderful traits, but how do you exhibit them at work? Or, could it be that (as I’ve experienced more times than I care to admit) what seems obvious is not obvious at all?
Maybe your humility is viewed as weakness. Maybe your kindness is viewed as a lack of gumption. Maybe all of your hard work behind the scenes is not seen at all. Maybe your dedication is viewed as having fun with volunteers. Maybe your forward thinking is perceived as complaining.
Think about a person you respect and/or admire. When they say something you listen, right? Now think about a person you’re ambivalent about. What happens when they say something? Do you listen with the same intent? Probably not.
We can argue and advocate all we want, but if our reputation hinders us, people won’t listen deeply to understand what we are saying. And we must get through to our organizations. Why? Because volunteers are rapidly changing, irrespective of Covid’s impact, and we know that organizations must adapt to sustain volunteering.
For years, volunteers have been changing because:
That’s a butt-load of changes, isn’t it? These changes are not new; they’ve been coming for years and now, they’re here in our laps. So, we can shout all we want, but we need listeners.
Take a moment and think about perceptions. Look at the behaviors that might create the wrong perception. Do you ever…
Now, remove yourself and picture a random person (let’s call her Matilda) exhibiting any of the above behaviors. What would your perception of Matilda be? What would Matilda’s reputation at work be like? Would she be thought of as a visionary, a leader, a go-getter, an innovator, a solutions gal?
So, for International Volunteer Managers Day, the “what’s next” question for me means this: Forget for a minute all that needs to change when engaging volunteers and think about how we can make change happen.
What needs to change is our self-identities as innovative, mission-supporting, forward thinking, visionary people must match our reputations within our organizations.
Once we are viewed in the way we self-identify, we can successfully advocate for the changes we seek because people will listen.
Next time: An action plan
-Meridian

The night air is cold and your breath hangs, a web in the blackness. Your heart races, threatening to burst as something draws near, just over your shoulder. You close your eyes as it creeps behind you, opening its mouth to strike.
But you’re exhausted from running, and maybe if you just stopped, blissful oblivion will take over. Maybe zombification isn’t so bad.
The challenges this year have exponentially added to the stressors from overwork, revamping volunteer programs, and onboarding an influx of new volunteers while retaining furloughed volunteers.
Being zombified means through stressors, you’ve lost your vitality, your human essence. You’ve lost you. It’s a very real phenomena in everyday volunteer manager lives and especially now, with the added stressors.
Zombified managers (and you’ve experienced one, right?) shuffle through the day, avoiding anything that takes energy because they have none to spare. When we, leaders of volunteers become zombified, what happens? (and trust me, I’ve become zombified at times, until a caring co-worker or volunteer bashed me in the head and work me up)
The essence of being human is that one does not seek perfection
George Orwell
We are not perfect and these times are far from perfect. When things look bleak or never-ending, it’s understandable to want to curl up in a ball and mentally detach. We’re not immune to our own feelings. We swim in feelings, whether it be volunteers’, clients’, staff or friends and family all day long.
Remember, you cannot be perfect, because you’d lose your humanity if you were perfect and volunteers need your imperfect, caring self. What can you do when feeling zombified? Here’s some things, for better or worse, that I’ve used when I realized I was just shuffling through the day, a drop of spit hanging from my slack mouth.
When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.
Fred Rogers
Stress can easily zombify us when feelings of not being in control overtake us. But we know our volunteers look to us to lead and inspire them. They believe in us. We can, too.
Volunteers don’t want perfect, robotic leaders. And sometimes, zombification comes when the desire to do everything perfectly meets the reality that we are imperfect creatures.
Volunteers want you, imperfect you, and all your quirky sayings, your crazy ideas, your funny habits. They want the way your nose wrinkles up when you hear that a staff member didn’t say hi to a volunteer. They want the way your brow knits in thought when you’re plotting a way to involve them in a new program. They want your voice raised an octave when excited about an upcoming meeting. They want that hastily made poster that says thank you in sloppy script.
Volunteers want your human self.
-Meridian