volunteerplaintalk

Category: organizations

  • If Ever There Was a Reason to Support Volunteer Management…

    “Jimmy Savile was given free rein to sexually abuse 60 people, including seriously ill eight-year-olds, over two decades at Stoke Mandeville hospital due to his gold-plated status as a celebrity fundraiser, an inquiry has found.” from the Guardian, February 26, 2015.

    http://www.theguardian.com/media/2015/feb/26/jimmy-savile-abuse-stoke-mandeville-hospital-inquiry

    Also from the article, “Kate Lampard, who carried out an independent review of Savile’s activities, said the activities of the celebrity across the NHS were “scarcely credible”.
    And further in the article, “Lampard said: “Savile’s celebrity and his roles as a volunteer and fundraiser … gave him power and influence within NHS hospitals which mean his behaviour, which was often evidently inappropriate, was not challenged as it should have been.”

    This horrendous case is sadly not a one of a kind. Those instances are out there, whether they are reported or not. When researching volunteerism, I find stories of volunteers who hurt and abuse clients and steal from organizations in all parts of the world. And the question is, who is responsible for watching these people?

    One thing I have learned about volunteer managers is that we take volunteer management seriously. We know the good work done but we also do not fool ourselves into complacently thinking that everyone who wants to volunteer does so with pure motives. There are people who need to work out personal issues, people who need to feel worth, people who need to control, people who have agendas and once in a while, people who are psychologically sick. And the vulnerable population we serve is a perfect place for these people to operate.

    I remember a man who came to volunteer about 20 years ago. He sat on the other side of my desk and with an angelic smile, lied to me. He was so convincing and I was thrilled to have someone who had that passion to volunteer. I was completely oblivious to his odd need to volunteer and fortunately, before any damage could be done, we found out that this person had a history of bilking people out of their savings. (This was in an era before background checks). I felt the sting of being taken in by that slick presentation for many years. For a time, I questioned my ability to read people. But this is how dangerously convincing these folks can be. They can be master manipulators.
    For those of us who have gone through these learning trials, a healthy skepticism takes hold that quietly whispers, “Be careful. Follow up and check and check some more.” None of us believe that we can weed out potential problem volunteers by gut instinct only. But gut instinct becomes one tool that is sharpened over the stone of experience.

    Great volunteer management prevents vulnerable populations from being abused and exploited. Most of us have had “celebrities” or people of note come to volunteer because they need us for something, such as the political hopeful who wants to appear in touch with constituents, the burgeoning business owner who swoops through for publicity, or the local tv star that volunteers once and adds it to a long resume of half truths.

    At hospice, I’ve had a prominent member of the hemlock society (euthanasia advocates) come to volunteer and tell me with a straight face that he had “seen the light” and wanted to volunteer now that he embraced natural death. I’ve had religious zealots swear up and down that they would not try to save people at end of life. I’ve had beauty queen contestants promise to do all kinds of wonderful volunteering, then just record my name as an endorsing mentor on their resume. I’ve had folks addicted to pain killers, teens looking for a way to fool their parents and people who wanted to cashier at a resale shop so they could steal from the till. Each instance sharpened my skeptical blade. (You want to volunteer five days a week? And you want to start tomorrow? WHY?)

    It is true that volunteer managers give people a chance to volunteer while skeptically wondering about their deep motivations. But the point is, volunteer managers do not let down their guard, not for celebrity, not for power brokers, not for smiling people of any background or status. And when the CEO sends us a neighbor’s troubled child or a major donor to volunteer, we say “no.” But if we are forced to take that volunteer anyway, we keep that person away from our clients, near us where we can watch them. It’s a burden on us, but that’s what we do.

    We, volunteer managers are the first line of defense for the people we serve. When we go home, after a day of managing people, we look ourselves in the mirror and we expect to be proud of what we see.  Will we stand idly by while there is a volunteer potentially abusing a client, stealing from the organization or harming in any way one of our vulnerable population? Not on our watch.

    Organizations everywhere need to put resources into volunteer management. They need to hire competent, dedicated and ethical people who will challenge the status quo at times. They need to then support those people with seats at planning meetings, educational opportunities. and recognition of the challenges of managing unpaid staff. Organizations need to recognize that each and every member of a volunteer department is actually a manager of human resources, not just a coordinator or specialist or whatever fluff title they have chosen. Because, every day, these volunteer managers are promoting the good work and capital of volunteer help while ensuring that an organization does no harm to the clients.

    After all, is any amount of fluff thinking worth the abuse of an ill eight year old? Any?

    Not while we volunteer managers are on duty.

    -Meridian

  • Projectile Volunvomiting

    quote-a-slight-throbbing-about-the-temples-told-me-that-this-discussion-had-reached-saturation-point-p-g-wodehouse-279137The other night, a friend invited me to a volunteer meeting. She had just started volunteering for an organization that helps runaway teens. I said, “sure” since it was in the evening and I figured why not, I can’t get enough working with volunteers and I really didn’t want to watch any more tv programs about catfish catching with my husband.

    Ok, honestly, I wanted to see how the meeting was conducted and whether or not I could get any tips from the moderator. Honestly. All right fine, I really was hoping that the meeting would be mediocre so I could feel good about my meetings. Not a noble reason to go, trust me, but meetings are hard to conduct. Are they interesting? Are they enjoyable? Are they succinct and mind-blowing, earth shattering, and brilliant? If not, guess what? No one will come to the next one, you loser! That hangs over our heads all the time like a dark cloud of failure raining on our meeting agendas. “This is boring, why do we have to come to meetings, I never learn anything new and volunteer Emma talks non-stop through them anyway, I can’t hear about her granddaughter’s finance anymore!”

    So, I went and sat down next to my friend and looked around at the concrete block walls, utilitarian fold up tables, uncomfortable stacking chairs and felt right at home, like a bird in a nest. The roll up screen was down, the laptop on, and the fuzzy power point welcomed us to the meeting. Whew. So far, my meetings were on par, so I relished in the fact that there were no black tie clad people serving shrimp on toast, no full length videos and no dancing staff members replete with their own “thank you volunteers” song.

    The moderator, who was filling in for the regular moderator, welcomed everyone and got right to the agenda which beamed down on us from the screen. I looked around the room at the volunteers, recognizing each one although I knew none of them.  (I have volunteers just like these!)

    My eyes alighted on one gentleman, who sat listening intently. As my gaze returned to him periodically, I could see his temples rippling ever so slightly. He was clenching his jaw. Oh, oh, I thought, not a good sign, one the moderator could not see because she did not have as clear a view of him as I did. The agenda was pretty straight forward, consisting of upcoming events, news items and volunteer needs. I took sick pleasure in the one or two mistakes that had to be amended. (I’m not proud of that, trust me, and my little voice of perfection in my head said, “oh, so now you think it’s ok to make mistakes huh?”)

    Volunteers asked questions about assignment dates and other “housekeeping” type issues and everything was pretty normal until the gentleman with the rippling temples spoke up. “You know,” he said, (which always means something we know and care not to admit is coming), “I’ve been volunteering over two years. I’m the lead for one of the task forces and when we get called out, we only have four volunteers to choose from. Now, my question to you, is, where are all these volunteers? Why don’t we have more volunteers on the task force? We advertize for people, I see new people on the roster, heck I’ve even let some come in and watch what we do, but no one has stepped forward to join us.”

    At this point, I felt a rush of empathy for the moderator and could completely understand her pain, having been in this position many a time. I was sorry now that I so meanly wanted to see some mistakes, and I just wanted the rant to end. “Why can’t we get more volunteers?” He went on, the pent-up frustration spewing forth. “I mean, I work for crying out loud and I can come to meetings, I can get up in the middle of the night and be where I’m supposed to be, so why can’t we find other people like me?”

    I wondered, should I raise my hand, but the moderator handled it as well as she could, saying that volunteers like this gentleman were hard to find and that they were making a concerted effort to reach out to the community. Now, I know the truth and I suspect this gentleman did as well. The truth is, we all try, but recruitment is just one part of our jobs. It jockeys for position along with retention, recognition, problem solving, mediation, human resources, and every other little thing that gets thrown our way. The luxury of just recruiting is unthinkable, sort of like coming home to no housework or driving a car forever with no maintenance needed. I wish.

    The moderator and this gentleman bantered back and forth for a bit while the rest of the volunteers looked on. I suspect this scenario plays itself out all across the volunteer spectrum. I wondered if the moderator felt frustration, not at the volunteer, but at the fact that this volunteer had to remind her how much was on her plate and how she could only give a percentage to each task.

    Volunteer Frustrations can bubble up anytime. Some volunteers will make an appointment to air their concerns privately. Others may “blow” in a meeting or while working on an assignment. I’m no psychologist (ask my husband, he’ll tell you-as he watches catfish being hauled out of a river) but I suspect that the volunteer who vomited his frustrations grew very tired of a meeting in which everything was normal. I suspect that in his mind, no one was addressing the glaring lack of volunteers. I suspect he may have felt like this new moderator could do something about his concerns. I’ve had that happen on more than one occasion. I go through channels to address a volunteer’s request, but it languishes and the volunteer corners a new staff member because they may have more clout.

    We, volunteer managers are continually checking on our volunteers, but we are not perfect. Sometimes we can see frustrations building and sometimes we can’t. We try to intervene before volunvomiting happens but we can’t always see it coming. Most of the time, the frustrations our volunteers feel are the very ones we feel too.

    Kudos to the moderator who did not feed into those frustrations but calmly addressed them. In retrospect, (which is easy now, I know) perhaps a few things could have helped. I’m going to put these in my arsenal of come-backs for the next time a volunteer spews forth their concerns at a meeting:

    1) “You have an excellent point, one which we are very concerned about as well. Who, here, in this room is willing to step up and become a member of the task force?”

    2) “I’m so glad you brought that up. It is foremost in our minds too. Let’s put together a committee from the dedicated folks in this room to do targeted recruiting.”

    3) “Thank you for voicing the frustrations we all feel. Would you be willing to sit down with me soon so that you and I can work out a plan to recruit folks like you, dedicated, hard-working and committed.”

    Perceived Inaction=Grievance.                                                                Action=Cooperation.

    Vexed volunteers are not bad volunteers. They want what is best too, so let’s put that vexation to work. Diffuse that frustration by challenging them and the folks around them to help better the situation.

    -Meridian

  • Dieting, Models and Volunteering?

    happyI’ve dieted. And sure, I’ve sat there, chocolate cupcake in hand watching a commercial where the svelte people tout how much weight they’ve lost on the low carb or cabbage soup or just buy this little pink pill diet. Heck, I’ve admired the ones who look so freakishly happy because they finally got the weight off. Wow, look at them. That could be me.
    So. why wasn’t it me? What insidious reason came between me and my easily obtainable goal of looking like Tyra Banks strutting down the runway in a Paris trunk show? (I won’t mention that a. I’m ridiculously too old, b. I’m seriously too short and c. I inherited my mother’s plough pulling non-dainty build.)
    Why don’t I want to be one of the twirling, hair tossing, always smiling model thin people? Because I’m not them. That’s not me. Sure, I want to be healthy and I’m taking steps to be that. I want to feel good and I’m working on that too. I want to wear clothes that don’t bind or pinch and I’m trying to stop stress eating. But the folks who represent dieting plans and products look so one-dimensional to me. Look at them, they’re focused. They don’t come home to a pile of throw up in the entryway because the dog pulled a half-eaten cupcake from the garbage. They don’t open the refrigerator as the dishwasher starts making a grinding noise which means washing dishes by hand until the repairman comes. They don’t step on the laptop after an unplanned nap in the recliner. No, their lives are perfect. They must be because how else could they accomplish those tough goals and still smile like that?

    I compare myself to them and they always win. It’s called social comparison. We look at our lives and the lives of others around us and sometimes we win and sometimes we fail miserably. (all in our heads of course)

    There appears to be a lot of reasons folks don’t volunteer. Heck, we all rabidly research and debate the reasons Jessica volunteers and Jorge does not. I’ve tried looking for this magic reason for years, going so far as to include it on a volunteer application and no, it did not give me any insight at all. Instead it annoyed the heck out of people-go figure.
    We, volunteer managers twist ourselves into a bigger mess than the wires behind my computer desk trying to make everything perfect to attract volunteers. We are aware of the changing needs of volunteering such as flexible schedules, meaningful experiences and episodic or virtual opportunities. We’ve reinvented ourselves over and over again. So can there be other reasons Greta won’t knock on our door?

    I remember a conversation I had a while back with a friend, Judy. I had been trying to get Judy to volunteer for years. She would be perfect, I always thought. Funny, no-nonsense, industrious, she would bring an air of authenticity.
    “No,” she said emphatically. “I’m not volunteering. You guys are all so, I don’t know, smiley.” At the time I laughed, but Judy’s perception stayed in my head. And it made me always wonder if there were not some people out there who look at volunteering the way I look at diet models.
    Do they think “That’s not me. I’m not that selfless, or happy or giving or whole. I look at volunteer pictures on websites, or Facebook and see volunteers, arms around each other as they pose in front of the playground they built or the building they painted or the kids they saved and I think, I’m not like them.”
    Do they read the newspaper and see volunteers receiving awards and think, “Good for them. They must be perfect. Well, I’m not.”
    I love to post pictures of volunteers accomplishing awesome things and I automatically assume that anyone who looks at the pictures will want to join in on the super-duper goodness. But don’t diet companies think the same thing about me?
    And so, I’m thinking about some re-imagined volunteer slogans to appeal to the “I’m not perfect like them” prospective volunteer:

    Volunteering, a Work of Heart = Volunteering, it’s a lot of work but it gets worth it at some point and trust me, sometimes I want to scream that’s it’s not what I thought it would be, but there’s some good in there too.

    Help Others, Help Yourself = Heck, I can barely get up in the morning, but at times seeing people worse off than me actually helps a bit.

    Volunteers are Priceless = Yeah, there’s no money in volunteering so you can’t mess it up too much.

    A Volunteer Journey Begins With a Single Step = Ok, we know it’s really hard to take the slippers off, but we take people in pajamas. You don’t even need to comb your hair.

    Just Bring a Caring Heart = Look, it’s a fallacy that all these volunteers are so perfect. We’re all pretty much rotten at times too. But together we can figure it out because nothing is perfect and that’s ok.

    So, should I now just post pictures of volunteers milling around looking lost and unhappy? (I could get quite a few of those at times)

    No, but just as I don’t view myself as one dimensional, I believe prospective volunteers see themselves as complex too. And a few of them might need to know that volunteers aren’t perfect people who have it all together all the time.

    Heck, maybe I’ll post a picture of myself, I could be the poster child for not having it together!
    -Meridian

  • Perfectly Un-Perfect

    o-CAKE-FAILS-BAKING-MISTAKES-facebookWhen my children were young, I barricaded them from anything and everything embarrassing about myself because I knew they would spread it faster than spilled cooking oil over a brand new dress. Little ones really have no filter and when they learn something juicy, they will a) tell their teacher, b) tell their best friend’s mom or c) tell the guy in the elevator who turns out to be the one processing your car loan.

    We learn pretty quickly how to keep damaging information away from those who view the world as a big piece of warm toast just waiting to be smeared with buttery gossip. There are the neighbors who pry ever so nicely, the co-workers who ambush you on a Monday morning before you’ve gotten your game face on. “So, how was your weekend? Really, I didn’t know you hung out in those types of establishments.”
    So, how does this relate to volunteers? Well, we can get really comfortable around them and let down our guard and the next thing you know, you have your boss in your office wondering why the heck you said those terrible things about the operations manager because “it’s all they’re talking about in administration.” Of course anything said innocently like “you know I do like the new giving director. He seems nice, but it’s sometimes hard to understand him, he mumbles like he has something in his mouth,” becomes by the time it makes the rounds of eager ears, “Meridian says the new fund director doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Trying to explain only makes it so much worse.

    I’ve never had a volunteer spread anything I’ve said out of meanness or ill intent. It’s always an innocent aside or a slip of the tongue. At the time, it’s never funny, and when it happens, you just try to lay low in your warm dirt filled trench until the whole thing blows over and then you’re extra nice to anyone and everyone in case they’ve been told something that will come back to haunt you soon.

    I remember one day saying to a volunteer who was a retired charge nurse that our female executive director looked positively glowing. That afternoon the volunteer ran into the director as she was headed for lunch and asked ever so intrusively, “when is the baby due?” Yeah, she did and then told the director that she heard it from me.

    I remember another time a volunteer, John thought he was actually going to help me and went to my boss and proceeded to complain that I was overworked. (This is a lovely theme that volunteers who really care about us volunteer managers come up with, and sometimes want to do something about much to our chagrin). When he told me what he did, I didn’t know whether I wanted to hug him or ask him to help me pack my things. See John owned and ran his own boat manufacturing company for thirty years so he pretty much said whatever the heck he wanted. Although my boss realized I did not put John up to it, (at least that’s what she told me) I could tell that she wondered how much “oh poor little me” stuff I was spouting. I had a hard time defending myself and John on that one.

    One of my favorite volunteers, Jessie once accompanied me to a community event advocating for the homeless that just happened to be covered by local press. While I was crawling around on the ground trying to tie down the tent in the tornado-like winds, Jessie was interviewed by the press and was happy to help by giving some personal opinions on the subject which of course appeared in the paper the next day as the official position of my organization. The next morning I sneaked into my office, but they found me! I really think I would have gotten into less trouble if I had set fire to the donor’s wall.

    My favorite one though, was the day I came close to a meltdown. A staff member I trusted implicitly didn’t follow through and caused all kinds of emergency extra work. I was pacing, muttering, and trying to figure out how to make the last-minute disaster come together when one of the volunteers, Ruthie walked in on me having a heated conversation with myself. I didn’t notice her for a moment and when I did, she was watching me pretty much in the same way she would watch a stranger wearing a goalie mask coming down a dark alley. I stopped when I saw her and told her that I was just figuring some things out and she nodded, said ok, goodbye for the day and left. So the next day, Ruthie came in unexpectedly, found me in a casual conversation with a senior manager and offered me some medication from her medicine chest. It was Xanax.

    What do I think I’ve learned about being honest in front of volunteers? Should we be very careful about what we say? I do think that we should spare them any political nonsense, personality conflicts and dysfunction in our organizations. They don’t need those headaches. But am I careful about every little thing I say? Nah, not at all. I look back at those incidents and others and laugh. I lived through them, and each volunteer thought they were doing the right thing. And you know what? WE CAN’T CONTROL EVERYTHING! (Horrors, I still shudder at that realization).

    I think as long as we keep in mind that our volunteers want to be a part of the goodness of our organizations’ missions, then we’ll share with them the best part of ourselves. We can be funny, crazy, serious, mindful, playful, driven or any combination of personality traits that make us unique.
    As long as we are sincere, we can share ourselves without fear of the few times we are taken out of context, misunderstood or “helped” by well-meaning volunteers.
    One trait I’ve noticed about volunteer managers is that we are comfortable with life’s complexities. We don’t see people and the world as the perfect red velvet cake, but as this ever-changing creative cake mix that is interesting, sometimes frustrating, but ultimately perfect in a non-perfect sort of way.

    Granted, we’ll sometimes get a bubble of dry flour when we bite into these not so perfect cakes, but then again, we get to eat a lot of frosting too.
    -Meridian

  • The Emotional Buck Stops Here

    buck stops here photo:wikipedia.org/wiki/Buck_passing

    Crista is a volunteer coordinator for a local branch of a major charity. She covers several counties which means a great deal of travel during the week and the need to tightly organize her day. Now we all know how hard tightly organizaing is for a volunteer manager. “I’m exhausted,” she said recently, “literally exhausted. I’m not talking about being the kind of tired that makes you fall asleep at night, I’m talking about dead to the world sleep followed by a difficult waking and the desire to crawl under the covers by noon. Am I depressed? I mean I don’t do that much physical stuff, I carry boxes of manuals or help arrange tables at a fair, but nothing that would wear me out. I have time in the car to sit down, but at the end of the day, I just want to go home and vegetate. What’s wrong with me?”
    I asked her what her day was like and she said, “you know, I arrive at work and the phone starts ringing. I’m checking emails and volunteers are coming into my office to ask for guidance. Sometimes their team leads aren’t there and sometimes they have a complaint about misdirections. I have to field all kinds of calls, personal visits, plan my day, check in with clients and set up recruiting and training. It’s pretty hectic I suppose.”

    No doubt, Crista is volunteer manager busy. But I sensed more to her weariness. “How do you handle interruptions?”
    She continued, “well, I really try to give everyone my full and undivided attention. I mean, there’s the client who is hurting or the volunteer that has a family emergency. I’m not able to get much done, at least not in my mind. It’s constant stopping and focusing on the person in front of me and their needs.”
    She hesitated. “They deserve my full attention at the time they need it, not later during some appointment when the moment is lost. It can be difficult.”

    Mmmm Hmmmm. Our conversation made me think of the times I was privileged to work with singers and actors on charity shows. It was amazing to see how they emotionally transformed themselves into their roles and to afterwards see, when the glow wore off, how exhausted they were. Getting into their character and experiencing the perceived emotions drained the life right out of them.

    Being busy is one thing, but there is something called “emotional labor,” conceptualized by UC Berkley professor, Arlie Russell Hochschild. Emotional labor is often associated with service workers, such as the waitress who listens to a customer complain about the the too rare steak which she had no control over. She must hide her own stressful feelings and literally do some acting in order to understand and please the customer.

    There is also something called compassion fatigue which is the burnout factor that results from so much emotional availability. Volunteer managers listen to clients and empathize. We listen to volunteers and genuinely care about them. We listen to administrators and search for ways to really make a difference. Then, we go home and look for solace, but, because we are so good at emotional connections, can we turn that off in our private lives? Probably not. There’s the call from Aunt Rheda who fell and broke her hip. The neighbor, Jack just lost his job and his wife, Karin has no idea how they are going to survive. The elderly woman in the aisle of the grocery store looks lost. Would we walk away? Not unless our hair was on fire.

    It’s no wonder volunteer managers are exhausted. Emotionally we are “on” from the moment we wake up until we drop into bed. We’re on for our volunteers, for society and for our families and friends. It’s what we’ve come to expect of ourselves. Working with volunteers has taught us how to be focused and empathetic. It’s how we connect volunteers to the mission and to the clients. It is a great skill set, but it does take a huge amount of energy.

    Do we experience compassion fatigue? Most likely. But do we also practice emotional labor? Are we acting? I’d say, most of the time, no, but there are instances in which circumstances out of our control go awry and we are the ones to smooth it over for our volunteers. That’s when we have to put aside the stress we feel from the giving of incomplete directions, or the event time change not being communicated. Although we might like to say, “yeah, it figures. That airhead Velma never told me that they changed the venue time! You know this is the third time she’s done something like this. Last month she asked for two volunteers to sit at a fair and she didn’t tell me that they had to bring their own chairs to sit on and that it would be outside! It was cold that day, the poor volunteers shivered and stood through the whole thing! You know, I’m just sick and tired of cleaning up after inconsiderate staff who waste your guys’ time! I don’t want you to quit, but heck, I wouldn’t blame you if you did, not that anyone here would realize why you quit, they’d probably blame me!” (did I just go on a wee bit too much there? Woo, I feel so much better!)

    Instead, unlike my inappropriate rant, we assure the volunteer that their time is valuable, that they are valuable while taking in any problematic comments and finding ways to make situations better. We become the obsessive person who checks, double checks and triple checks details to keep these things from happening. But in spite of our efforts, when things do happen, we repress our own frustrations and absorb the volunteers’ feedback. We pass on the information in a professional manner, because the emotional buck stops with us.

    So, like Crista, if you find yourself bone weary, exhausted, or death-gripping your covers in the morning, it could be signaling burn-out. Recognizing the emotional investment you make in your job, by your compassion, empathy and emotional labor is the first step to taking care of yourself. It is crucial that volunteer managers find ways to de-stress, wind down and practice self care. While we can’t control everything about our jobs, we can control our well being.
    Be well out there.
    -Meridian

  • If a Butterfly Flaps Its Wings in Brazil, Will Jeremy Volunteer?

    hands volunteering2So, I’m going to pretend for a moment that I deeply understand chaos theory, deterministic systems, and linear functions. I’m going to try to sound really, really smart here, so please don’t laugh too hard when I use fancy phrases like “and so in conclusion,” “what I’m trying to point out.” and “holy crap this is hard!”
    But volunteering I think needs to have its own theory. A few years ago, I developed the firecracker theory that says you will get in big, big trouble if you set off a string of lady fingers outside the door of your boss’ office. It’s related somehow to string theory, but that’s for another day.
    I’ve observed (which you might notice is a great physics term) that a lot of really smart people look at volunteering and the recruitment of volunteers in a very linear way. Their theory goes something like this:
    Volunteer Manager (VM) sitting at desk. A long line of prospective volunteers stand outside the door patiently waiting for their turn to do good.
    VM: Who’s next? May I help you?
    New Volunteer Jeremy (J): Hi, I’m answering your ad for volunteer help. Can you tell me more about it? I really want to do good.
    VM: Why yes, we need someone every Tuesday to help put up supplies.
    J: Oh my gosh, this is unbelievable, I have a Master’s Degree in putting up supplies! I’ve put up supplies for most of my life. I love nothing more than to put up supplies! When can I start to do some good?
    VM: Well, you first have to go through some orientation and training. There’s four sessions starting tomorrow. That might be a bit last-minute.
    J: Tomorrow, huh? Well I had some important surgery scheduled for tomorrow, but I think I’ll reschedule that. To do good by putting up supplies is far more important.
    VM: Wonderful. After that we need to do a background check.
    J: No problem! After we speak, I will go to the police station and have that done. I’ll pay for that myself. While I’m there, do you want me to pay for some other volunteers?
    VM: No, that’s not necessary, but thank you. Are you then available to work on Tuesdays?
    J: Wow, Tuesdays, huh? That’s the only day I have to take my elderly Mother out of the nursing home. She really loves our outings, but hey, what the heck, putting up supplies for you guys is so much more important. I’ll be here every Tuesday doing good! By the way, what kind of supplies are we talking about?
    VM: Well, our organization gets shipments of office supplies on Tuesdays. No one here is willing to do that work.
    J: Office supplies, is it, go figure, my thesis was on the body mechanics of putting up office supplies! This is amazing! I can’t wait!
    VM: You do know, Jeremy that you will have to work alone in a hallway closet. There’s not much light or air, but that’s where the supplies are kept. Is that all right?
    J: I can’t believe this! My minor in college was working alone in a closet, how perfect is this opportunity for me?
    VM: Great, we will see you tomorrow. Thanks so much for volunteering. Next!

    So, in this linear theory, volunteers pretty much show up, get oriented, complete all steps and faithfully volunteer. It’s a lovely parallel universe, one with giant blue people and shimmering unicorns who love to do good.

    Recently, I attended a volunteer orientation for another organization. Of the seven people who took the evening class, I was the only one to show up at the meeting the next week. What happened to the rest? What mean and evil butterfly in Brazil kept them from doing good?

    Well, to that question I say, Holy crap, this is hard! See, I told you there would be some fancy phrases here. I can’t even begin to list all the variables that prevent volunteers from becoming linear, but here are a few. I’m sure you could add countless more.
    I want to volunteer but:
    I just lost my job or I just got a job.
    I got sick. I’ll try to come back, but it depends.
    I have to move or I just moved.
    I have no transportation, my car broke down.
    I have to watch my grand kids now that my daughter went back to work.
    I just had a significant death in my family.
    I just got divorced.
    I don’t think this is for me, sorry, but I thought it would be different.
    I completed my task and I’m moving on.
    I bit off more than I can chew-yes, sorry, my intentions are good, but I just can’t seem to find the time.
    I’m not getting what I need. Sorry, I thought it was just about doing good, but maybe I need more.
    I have to tie up some loose ends at home, then I’ll be back.
    I’m really looking for a job and it looks like there are none here.
    I burned out on all this saying yes.
    I’m going to disappear now and you’ll never know why.

    What determines the likelihood that Jeremy will volunteer? Luck, hard work on our parts, a perfect universe? Is it random no matter what we do? And, should we blame ourselves when not every prospective volunteer turns out to be volunteer of the year? Does a physicist blame himself because there are so many variables or does he accept the fact while learning from it?

    So, if we start to accept the intricate theory of volunteering, then does that not elevate the role of the volunteer manager who must be an analytical leader?

    Volunteering truly is like the famous Edward Lorenz quote, “Does the flap of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas?”
    Whether or not someone volunteers may not be dependent upon a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil, but sometimes a random call from a relative thousands of miles away can alter our volunteers’ lives in an instant and therefore impact their ability to volunteer.

    Hmmmm. And so, in conclusion, because volunteer managers work with these variables every day and still inspire vibrant forces of people doing good, I think some real credit is in order. Go ahead, flap your wings, butterfly. We’ve got this.
    -Meridian

  • Are We Forgetting Someone in This Conversation?

    restricted areaLately I’ve been reading about the UK’s debate on whether out of work young people should do some volunteering in exchange for benefits. I’m not going to go into any opinion on whether or not this is a good or bad idea, but the conversation made me think of several experiences I’ve had and how the volunteer manager is seemingly left out of this equation.

    One of the first experiences I had with someone forced to volunteer was with a young woman named Tori. She had to complete 50 hours of community service for a misdemeanor. She came to me very early in my career, and I thought I could show Tori the beauty of volunteering. I thought I could show Tori that immersing herself in the woes of others would give her a new and helpful perspective. I thought I could change the world through Tori. I was wrong. Those 50 hours were some of the longest of my life. She did not want to be there and by the 49th hour, I have to admit, I was happy to see the back of her as she walked out the door.

    I also remember another volunteer, Julian. A med student at a local university, Julian popped in one afternoon looking to “do some meaningful volunteering.” Young, with an urban handsomeness, he said he needed hands on experience with beside manner. “You know,” he said, “the kind of skills they don’t teach you in school.” I listened to his impassioned plea and then decided to short track him into volunteering. I reasoned that we needed more caring physicians, right? He wanted to initially do some data entry and then move on to working with patients because he had a full schedule of classes. I saw no reason not to let him begin that way and gave him assignments. He always seemed to have an excuse for not completing an assignment, so I chalked it up to a hectic semester. I thought, based on his enthusiasm that he would just show up one day ready to become a great volunteer.

    Well, he did show up one day with a paper in hand. “I need this signed today,” he said, “and I was hoping you would help me out.”
    My curiosity peaked, I looked at the paper to find that Julian had court ordered community service. “You haven’t completed the required hours,” I said to him. “And this is due tomorrow.”

    “I know,” he returned, “but I will do the hours, I already did some, right? I promise to do the rest. And I really do want to volunteer with patients, it would be so good for me. It’s just so hectic right now.” He smiled sheepishly and for a moment I gained access to the manipulated world according to Julian. I knew right then and there that he was just using me, but, being new to volunteer management, I signed the papers. I never heard from him again, but from then on, I termed that experience the “Julian debacle”. Now I never sign for hours I cannot prove.

    I also think about the year that Disney created the “Give a Day, Get a Day” volunteer push in 2010. The promotion was to encourage one million volunteers to do a day of service and in return they would get vouchers for Disney tickets. Now, on surface, what a lovely idea, but for me, personally, what a challenge. I began receiving calls from folks who couldn’t get in to volunteer elsewhere and needed to do volunteering, any volunteering by an approaching date. The people who called me were desperate to get their tickets. The idea that they might have to do orientation or wait for a day when I could actually come up with something for them to do that was meaningful sent them into panic mode. Because I felt for them, and because I hoped that one would actually want to volunteer beyond the promotion, I took as many as I could, but honestly, their volunteering was about free tickets. (Lesson learned).

    So by force or reward, is mandated volunteering or perk volunteering still volunteering? And, to those who create these two types of “volunteering,” do you ever think about the challenges to those of us managing these volunteers?

    To be fair, I have had some amazing folks who have had to volunteer to keep their food stamps or to clear their name. These people were respectful, eager to learn and help and some even stayed. Just as it’s critical we get to know our volunteers in order to place them, it’s critical we don’t size them up due to circumstance before we even meet them. I’m not saying take everyone and anyone but there are great volunteers who come through unconventional means and not so great volunteers who on paper seem perfect. Trust your judgement.

    But what is frustrating is the lack of acknowledgement of the massive amount of work volunteer managers must do to initiate, instruct and incorporate new volunteers. I would hope that future conversations about requiring people to volunteer or creating promotional perks for volunteerism would include the challenges facing the volunteer managers of the organizations being impacted.

    We’ve all heard this phrase bandied about; “volunteering would be good for you.” I just hope that the folks uttering that phrase would stop for a moment and think about the volunteer manager who is tasked to make that statement ring true.
    -Meridian

  • Well, It Sounds So Wonderful

    curbsideclassicdotcom
    Photo Credit: CurbsideClassic.com
    Jarvis is a volunteer coordinator for a small non-profit that works with homeless families.
    “I’ve been here for five years, now. I pretty much know how our system works, what our volunteers are allowed to do, what they are not allowed to do and how their volunteering actually helps. When I talk to prospective volunteers, I love to sincerely tell them how meaningful their contributions really are to our clients. I feel that, I see that everyday, the ways our volunteers interact with our clients and how they truly help them. It’s so darn inspiring, I just can’t help but impart that to new volunteers.
    But just lately, our organization’s leadership asked me to recruit some new volunteers. We are adding a new way to attract donors and that includes serving coffee and scones at informational meetings. It’s all white glove and very elegant looking. These new volunteers are the ones to prepare and serve the coffee, tea and scones. They’re expected to wear black pants, white shirts and to host or hostess and serve the potential donors while the marketing department does their thing.
    At first, I happily recruited several volunteers, both new and existing for this role. I thought long and hard about what to say to show them the worth of this job and everything started out well, But after a bit, the volunteers started calling in sick and sometimes I would have to go down and fill in for their shift. I gotta tell you, it felt like meaningless, boring, demeaning work. I smiled and served tea and really just felt like I was being used, that the organization could have hired some professional folks to do this. It felt like they were cheapening out and I was the hack who let them cheapen out. I see why the volunteers are calling in sick and not showing up.”
    Jarvis sighed. “I’m really uncomfortable asking volunteers to sign up for this position, especially when we need volunteers to do the meaningful work and especially since that’s what volunteers sign up for anyway. I feel like if I talk this position up, just to fill it, I will be guilty of bait and switch, you know what I mean?”

    Hmmmmmmmm. Our job, when pared down to its base, is to recruit and train volunteers for established roles. We all know that this is incredibly nuanced work. We use words, images, stories and motivations to attract people to provide free, but worthwhile services. We show volunteers the meaning of their contributions and the benefits they will personally reap. It helps immensely if we believe not only in the mission, but in the roles we are recruiting volunteers for. But what happens to our spiel when we realize that a volunteer position is really just a cost saver? What if we secretly feel that a volunteer position is beneath our volunteers’ time? Do we just parrot the tired old “and it really makes a difference in our clients’ lives” and then go home feeling oily, like a huckster? And what if we voice our concerns to senior management and they not only dismiss those concerns, but send the message that, “if you don’t agree with this big picture, then you should probably leave.”

    So this begs the question: Who are we really? Are we used car salesmen or are we Mother Teresa or are we somewhere in between? How do we sell a role we don’t believe in and are we allowed to not believe in a role? Do we not know our volunteers and potential volunteers better than anyone in our organizations? How should we advocate for meaningful roles vs. roles designed to save a few bucks here and there?
    This is a tough one, because when we firmly advocate for our volunteers and their involvement, we tend to ruffle senior management feathers. We can be viewed as negative or unwilling instead of thoughtful and proactive. And sometimes, even though our approach is delivered well and backed up by evidence, our appeals can be swept aside with a cavalier “boy, that’s not a team player attitude, is it?”

    What can we do? Firstly, show them, show them and show them some more. We all have to become experts at crunching everything into data, sort of like a human paper shredder that spits out supporting evidence. Write down exactly why volunteers don’t like a position and keep it in a file. On the flip side, record every wonderful thing your volunteers are doing with positions that truly make a difference. Record comments from grateful clients. Jot down anecdotes from staff who witness volunteer interaction. Note the positive and negative to build a case for your vision of volunteering. Advocate strongly for your volunteers, but in a professional, whine free manner. Dazzle them with your supporting evidence.

    When senior management says, “c’mon, you have 100 or 300 or 8,000 volunteers, why can’t you find one to clean up after our staff party?”, you can come back with a “because no one wants to clean up after YOU people.” But even though it may be true, you will be viewed as unwilling, negative, and a poor team player. Instead come back with, “well, I called 50 volunteers and no one is available; as a matter of fact, 38 of them said that they were already busy helping our clients.” Now, you can’t just say this, you have to actually call 50 volunteers, but the extra work may just pay off eventually. Refusing to get a volunteer is vastly different from volunteers refusing to do a menial job.

    In my experience, for what it is worth, I’ve found that my judgements on volunteer positions should not stop me from doing my job. I learned to let the volunteers make that judgement, not me. I simply ask them, “would you be willing to come in on Friday and help with a tea?” Sometimes, I am wrong and volunteers are willing to do the menial tasks. So, I can’t make that judgement for them nor should I.
    So, remove your personal judgement and ask, really ask volunteers to do each job that comes along. Record their responses and follow-up with them to find out how they felt about a job. It will not only help you understand volunteer motivations and willingness, but you may also find yourself in a position one day to dazzle your organization with a volunteer services show and tell.
    Due diligence and substantial evidence can help you formulate the volunteer positions of the future for your volunteers.
    -Meridian

  • Of Tires, Stars and Volunteer Organizations

    stars
    In the early 1900s, the Michelin tire company, in an effort to encourage more automobile travel and therefore sell more tires, introduced the Michelin guide. Today, under the cloak of anonymity, the Michelin inspectors visit restaurants and hotels and award stars based on their findings. The Michelin stars have been the most sought after restaurant award for over a century. Advertising a prestigious Michelin star brings in more customers.

    So what does this have to do with volunteerism, you ask. Well, why can’t we create a star rating system for volunteer organizations? This idea occurs to me every time I go to a volunteer seminar or symposium where I attend presentations by organizations discussing their volunteer concepts. I look around and see other volunteer managers. Where are all the CEO’s and administrators? Is volunteerism left to only the volunteer managers or is it deeply integrated into organizational culture?
    And then I begin to wonder, what are the ways the presenters measure their successes? Is it the same way I measure mine? Can I relate to how their volunteer program works? And beyond that, what about their general volunteer retention rate? Or volunteer satisfaction, or use of volunteers in key roles for that matter? Do the presenters have just one program that is successful, or are they doing other amazing work? Can I learn from not only their successes, but their failures as well? Or am I looking at volunteer apples when I work with volunteer oranges?

    It gets me to thinking, if a restaurant claims to serve the best burger in the world, do I take their word for it? No, because I’m skeptical, so I look to Yelp or TripAdvisor or local ratings systems to help substantiate their claim.
    Which brings me to this thought: Would it be helpful to have some sort of volunteer award system for organizations to not only help them integrate volunteerism into their culture, but to also help organizations understand the needs of the volunteer services departments?
    If so, I think an independent reviewing body that could look dispassionately at volunteer programs and create a reward system might just be helpful.

    So, how would this work?
    There are many models, but the one I’m thinking of is the four star award system for Veteran programs in hospices. “We Honor Veterans” is a program started by the National Hospice and Palliative Care Organization that encourages hospices to become veteran centric by earning star ratings (four is the highest). I participated in my organization’s path to achieving four stars and it was an arduous but worthwhile journey of proving several key components. We submitted our checklists and supporting evidence to achieve each level and it forced us to examine and change our culture and behavior towards end of life care for veterans. Hospices who earn stars are allowed to include the stars in any promotional or marketing tools so that they can advertize that they are a veteran centric organization.

    There are many experts in our field who would be excellent at setting up the achievable stars for volunteer organizations based on select criteria implemented. Here is a cursory list of possible criteria off the top of my head: I’m certain that others could improve on this greatly. An organization would apply to earn stars and would be directed to submit documentation that supports key points achieved.

    One Star:
    1. Documented specified training for new volunteers.
    2. Documented recruitment efforts.
    3. Documented volunteer satisfaction (vs. retention) efforts, including exit interviews.
    4. Designated volunteer manager.
    5. Documented volunteer bill of rights.
    6. Documented HR functions, i.e. files, background screenings, etc.

    Two Stars:
    1. Documented continuing specific education for volunteers that are on par with staff education.
    2. Documented job descriptions for volunteers that are distributed to the volunteers.
    3. Documented continuing communication for volunteers e.g. social media, newsletters, meetings, etc that is on par with staff communication.
    4. Documented policies and procedures for volunteers e.g. termination policy, workman’s comp policy, absence policy.
    5. Documented support in management education for designated volunteer manager that is on par with other managers.
    6. Documented volunteer grievance policy.

    Three Stars:
    1. Documented volunteers serving on boards and attending planning meetings.
    2. Documented continuing education of staff on working beside volunteers.
    3. Documented increases in volunteers’ roles and duties.
    4. Documented volunteer satisfaction rate increasing due to planned efforts.
    5. Documented volunteer manager as member of senior management and a member of the planning team.
    6. Documented attendance by senior administration at one volunteer specific symposium per year.
    7. Documented community involvement in volunteer specific partnerships, such as DOVIA (Directors of Volunteers in Agencies) RSVP or other.
    8. Documented use of volunteers in promotional materials, talking points, etc.
    9. Documented understanding and management of varied volunteer types, i.e. episodic, student, intern, etc.
    10. Documented involvement in researching volunteer trends, issues, directions.

    One of the purposes, if not the main purpose of the “We Honor Veterans” awarding of stars is to change the culture of hospices in regards to the unique needs of veterans at end of life. I saw this firsthand while going through the process. I think that we might be able to change the culture of our respective organizations in regards to how they view volunteers and just as importantly, volunteer managers. A volunteer centric star earned may just introduce a new way of thinking to the very organizations that currently keep volunteerism in a nice box.

    I fantasize about the day I see a charity’s brochure adorned with stars declaring the agency “Three Star Volunteer Centric” because using volunteers is one thing; integrating volunteers into the agency’s culture is another. And integrating volunteers is what we are all working towards.
    -Meridian

  • What’s Over Our Volunteers’ Shoulders?

    ironWe can’t follow our volunteers around every minute of every assignment. I know for you closet control types, this evokes the anxiety akin to your child’s first day of school. You stand outside the window pressing your nose against the glass trying to will the teacher and other children to be nice, but all you see is your breath clouding the view.

    I know this because I’m a control freak too and think that by hovering over the volunteers I can chase away the bad things that will make a volunteer quit. I’m the volunteer parent who peeks in while volunteer Johnny is working just to make sure no creepies are lurking in the corner. Call it a mother hen syndrome, a realistic approach based on history or just plain Volcontrol insanity; I make a living smoothing the creases in the fabric of volunteering. Nuts, huh?
    So, of course, when new volunteer Julie, a perfectly capable young woman was going to meet a new patient in a nursing home for the first time, I had to go along. After all, would she be able to find his room? Would the nursing home staff be kind to her? Would she feel thrown to the wolves by my absence?
    I agreed to meet Julie one afternoon after lunch. She was actually going to meet this patient, Ezra, and speak to him about writing down his life story. It’s a wonderful way to do a life review and also provide a real legacy for subsequent generations. The activities director of the nursing home, Cara, had mentioned that Ezra enjoyed reminiscing and was a perfect candidate for recording his life.
    Anyway, I met Julie in the nursing home lobby and we headed for Ezra’s room. He wasn’t there so we inquired at the nurses’ station and they directed us to the dining room where the residents had just finished their lunch. Ezra was there, in his wheelchair, sitting at a table by himself, sipping his juice. We sat down and introduced ourselves. I sat at Ezra’s left at the square, four person table and Julie sat at his right. I had a clear view of the hallway leading out of the dining room and could watch anyone coming or going. Ezra was absolutely delightful. With an elven smile and self-deprecating attitude, he assured us that his life was not interesting at all, but as we gently prodded, we found out that he had grown up in an orphanage, had taught himself to play the piano and worked in a traveling circus as a teen. His circus job was to help assemble and break down the tents, tend to the animals, learn and do magic tricks and sometimes fill in for one of the clowns. He married at 17, raised three daughters, graduated college at 33 and became a pharmacist and opened his own drugstore. Now, at 87, Ezra was succumbing to disease but his eyes lit up in the memories born of experiences that shaped his autobiography.
    While Ezra chuckled through a story about his wife’s overbearing mother, I happen to glance up and see a woman coming down the hallway towards the dining room. She was gracefully tall with dark hair and her casual clothes suggested a visitor. She locked eyes with me, her expression hostile so I looked away for a moment to escape her gaze.
    And then it hit me. The daughter claws were out. This was Ezra’s daughter approaching and she needed to know who was sitting down with her father. Tersely she put her hand on her Dad’s shoulder and introduced herself. “I’m Hannah,” she said, reaching for my hand. “And you are?”
    I introduced both myself and Julie and explained that we were there to begin a life stories project with her Dad. Hannah sat down and her eyes darted back and forth as she scrutinized us asking her father questions. As Ezra reminisced, Hannah slowly became animated, smiling at the stories. She began to interject, gently prodding her father for clarity and offering her version of events.
    We sat and chatted for two and a half hours, much longer than we had originally planned on staying. We could have stayed longer. As Julie and I got up, promising to return, Hannah shook our hands. “Thank you so much for doing this,” she said.
    “Your father is a special man,” I said.
    “He is. All three of us, my sisters and I were so fortunate to have him as a father.”
    Julie assured Hannah that she would return soon to continue recording Ezra’s stories.
    As we left, I looked over my shoulder at Hannah, who was hugging her father and smiling broadly.
    Julie and I said goodbye in the parking lot. I thanked her and she thanked me for the opportunity. It always gives me a thrill when volunteers are grateful for the very jobs they do so well.

    While I tag along and look over the shoulders of volunteers to prevent made up disasters, I secretly really want to experience what they experience. It’s soul filling for me, and when you get to see a daughter animatedly tell you how much your time spent with her special father means to her, it gives you all the reason needed to do your job.
    With that kind of reinforcing experience, I’ll hover anytime.
    -Meridian