volunteerplaintalk

Category: Uncategorized

  • Do you know your volunteer’s grand dog’s birthday?

    I have a good friend who is a volunteer coordinator. I meet her at the DOVIA meetings in my area and have for quite a number of years. She is a wonderful volunteer manager. Honestly, I was always amazed at how much information she had in her brain about her volunteers and I would feel inadequate when she would tell the group about the touching little extras her volunteers received. During Thanksgiving she gave them crafted (by her) little turkeys with a poem about thankfulness. Over volunteer appreciation week, she took each volunteer’s name and wrote a “wish” for them, taking into account each volunteer’s personal life situation.

    The last time we talked, however, she seemed a bit frazzled. Actually, she was extremely frazzled. One of her volunteers had just come out of the hospital and was having problems with recovery. Another volunteer’s son was in a car accident. Another volunteer’s husband just had surgery. Another volunteer just had to go out of state to see a friend whose daughter gave birth and the baby is in intensive care. Another volunteer, if I remember correctly had just taken in a neighbor whose house burned, but not completely, although the fire department would not let him stay in it because it was inhabitable.  And, she was just invited to a volunteer’s daughter’s dog’s birthday party. And oh, did I mention that the dog had cancer?

    Whoa! My head was spinning. Do I know these things about my volunteers? Yes, for the most part. Have I been invited to their personal events?  All the time. Yesterday, I went to a nursing home to see a volunteer, and then back to our care  center to visit with one of the best volunteers I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with.  Another one is battling cancer, but he wants to keep things private. Another one is having problems with his legs and circulation and not able to come in right now, but he has his daughter drive him over and we go out and chat with him in the car. And on and on and on.

    But I sensed with this wonderful volunteer manager a desperation. Keeping up with every volunteer’s personal life is really hard. Where do you draw the line? When do you drive yourself crazy? What is the fine line between healthy involvement and over involved?

    I honestly don’t know. Case by case? Some volunteers need more, some less?
    I know volunteers have quit because they did not get enough from our organization when they felt they needed it. I know that some volunteers feel hurt when we make a fuss over another volunteer even if they don’t express it. I know some volunteer feel so close to us that they become more like friends. While nothing is ever perfect, I do know that volunteer managers try hard to get as close to perfection as possible when working with our volunteers. We nurture, cajole, mentor, protect and care. Sometimes, it can be overwhelming. What do you think?

    -Meridian

  • Update on the Chilly Situation

    Hi and thanks to Kristen’s good advice, we had a nice heart to heart. Turns out there are some challenges at home and this volunteer is acutely feeling the pressure of a very sick and very elderly mother. She is under a lot of stress and cannot help but bring that along with her. She does know we care very much about her and remarks that she really wants to come in to get away. It’s a haven.

    I should have instinctively known this. I saw her changing before my eyes and did not delve deeper. She is pretty much a private person and I give her that space. Honestly, I don’t know if she would have told me had I asked her what was going on, but I should have tried. Sometimes I get too business like. I’ve seen other volunteer managers get way too involved with their volunteers and then go nuts with all the personal involvement. And, if I’m perfectly honest, I used to be that manager. Might explain the being nuts part.

    But there is a happy medium. I need to reconnect with my dewy eyed first year of volunteer management. An old hardened manager is not necessarily the better one.

    So, I learn again!  That is one reason I love this job. I’m always learning something about either the world, people or more scarily, myself.  I really wish I could learn to do this job perfectly. Well, maybe not, because then, there would be nothing new to learn.

    thank you all for making me feel part of something really important.

    -Meridian

  • Would You Place Your Mom in This Situation?

    So, this patient complains a lot. The family is never happy. The Son keeps making veiled threats about his friend, the lawyer. The house is messy and you have to step over quite a bit of “stuff” to get into the house. Outside there are several big dogs in the backyard, and sometimes they come in. The house is located down a gravel road and you have to get out and open a large wooden gate to drive through. The family smokes and oh, there is no air conditioning.

    The funny thing about the above scenario is I have placed volunteers in these types of situatiosn for many years. It was always a badge of courage, a reason to help the toughest cases. Volunteers are troopers.

    But now add to that, and I quote, “this family has a history of violence. The son has been arrested numerous times for drug possession. There is a host of guns in an unlocked cabinet in the home. The spouse is in drug rehab. They really need a volunteer to sit with the patient while the neighbor takes the spouse to court ordered drug rehab.”

    Ahhhhhhhh, ok, let me go down my list of available volunteers and see which one is either a) crazy, b) self-destructive or c) gullible.

    The “good old days” of volunteerism are gone. We buried that model years ago. We now live in a world of risk assessment, liability, changing family dynamics and new volunteers who honestly KNOW all of this.

    Hmmmm, so I say to the person requesting this mythical robot of a volunteer (with a bullet proof vest) “would you be comfortable placing your mother or father in this home?” Of course the answer is “I never thought of it in that way.”

    Yes, well, our volunteers happen to be someone’s mother, father, son, daughter, best friend, what have you. They are actually people, with good hearts, who expect us to place them carefully and wisely. So, next time you forget that, ask yourself if you would like to see your mom get hurt in the home of a stranger. If you are not there to protect her, who will?  Oh, right, the volunteer department will!

    -Meridian

  • A Little Chilly in Here?

    Just an update. The volunteer who left in a snit did come in on Tuesday and not only did not say more than a few words, she left after about 30 minutes saying through clenched teeth, “well, that’s all I have for work today.”

    Sigh. Was I angry, no, frankly I’m fresh out of big emotions. Was I rude to her? No, we know we have to be neutral at all times. She came the day after Monday, a day spent literally sorting out problems and walking the middle road. Bad timing for me, I was exhausted.

    I spoke to her as usual, praised her and thanked her for her work. What I really felt was deep disappointment. Although we are not unrealistic and not Pollyannas, don’t you just wish that volunteers would come for reasons that are helpful and REMAIN for those same reasons. Often we worry so much about volunteers coming for the “right” reasons, that we get blindsided by those who develop other reasons to stay. They disappoint us to the core.

    Even on our worst days physically, spiritually and emotionally, we have to remain upbeat, caring and willing to step outside of ourselves for a great cause we believe in. We sort of expect that from our volunteers and when one we have relied on gets angry with us, that is hurtful. It’s about the mission, don’t ever forget that. Maybe I need to tell her more often how her work is affecting the bottom line. I will do that, but at least next Tuesday, I’ll be prepared. I’ll bring my coat and drink hot chocolate.

    -Meridian

  • Digging the Trench

    There seems to be a general consensus that we should elevate volunteers to that “next level” which is leadership. Now, while I tend to agree that we have great prospects out there, those with skills, training and backgrounds, we also have to temper the leadership with some good old fashioned “grounding”.

    My example?  I have a volunteer who helps me directly. She’s been helping me for four years now, doing a mountain of HR type paperwork in the office. Little by little I turned more and more over to her because she a) wanted it. b) is very organized and c) it needed to be done- the trilogy of a great volunteer fit!

    What I’ve noticed more and more lately is what I call, the “entrenched syndrome.” She’s entrenched and by that I mean, feeling so comfortable, almost job-like that she wants to be privy to conversations that don’t involve her input, wants to run me and my work (that’s not so bad, actually) and wants to lord over other volunteers. Ah, that last one is the tough one.

    She has two set days to come in and do her work, but she chooses to “drop in” on other days when other volunteers come in which makes for chaos. She wants to not only see what they are doing, but instruct them and frankly, be in charge. I’ve gently asked her to remain on her days, but there is always a reason to come in on the non-scheduled day, “I was in the area,” “I wanted to finish that work,” etc.

    She even screens volunteers in her own mind, telling me of the appropriateness of each one who comes through the door. Hmmm, I don’t remember asking her what she thought.  And what she doesn’t remember is that our jobs are to place volunteers, not throw them to the curb if they are wearing the wrong blouse. (Ok, that’s an exaggeration).

    So, last week, I politely reminded her that on the day she’s not scheduled, we really would like her to not come so that the other volunteers had a space to work and so that I could give her the attention she deserved on her days. The cacophony of voices on days when too many volunteers are in is like a hammer to the head, actually.

    Well, she left but in a bit of a snit. I sent her an email again praising her work, telling her how valuable she is and asking her to understand. We’ll see. If I’m being selfish, I really don’t want to train someone new, and I genuinely enjoy her and am so grateful for her contribution. But, she has to bend just a wee bit too.

    So, I’m asking her, please, come out of trench and into the fresh air and light!

    -Meridian

  • The Hard Part

    Just visited a volunteer in the hospital on Friday. This is something we all do routinely; visit in the hospital, attend funerals of spouses, send get well cards and flowers, mourn the passing of relatives and bring casseroles to homes. Our volunteers are more than just unpaid help and the more we nurture them for duty, the more we get personally meshed in their lives. Unless we are stone cold beings, we are affected greatly by the things that befall our charges. They hurt, we feel. And because we have so many more part-time volunteers, we have more human element on our plate than any HR manager. It is our burden to bear.

    This volunteer has inoperable cancer. Now, working for a hospice, this doesn’t come as some huge surprise. He was losing weight. He was worried and scared. He knew before they told him, but being a private, independent person, he kept us at an arm’s length until he was sure. Now, he let us in. He talks about quality of life. He wants to continue to volunteer. His son was touched by how well we knew his Dad, how we had inside jokes with him, how we reminisced over 12 years of service. His Dad is more than the guy who works on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He’s as human to us as a member of our family. And so we prepare ourselves to walk this last journey with him. Tears, loss, and hurt will be our companion. To care is to feel and when you manage volunteers, your feelings are open at all times. We bare ourselves emotionally because we care that these people get something out of their volunteering and so ultimately, we care about them.

    All the encouragement, the jokes, the listening, the training, the feedback, the inquiring, the answering, the building? That was easy.

    Now once again, comes the hard part: The goodbye.

    _Meridian

  • Volunteer Manager=Volunteer!

    Oh, one of my friends, who is a volunteer coordinator went and did it. He offered to “help out” with an event. You know how this goes. Someone from a department calls you and asks for help with something and before the words dry on your lips, you’re in charge. Is there a secret birthmark on our foreheads that magically appears once we become volunteer managers?  Does it say “ask me, I’ll do anything” and is it visible only to everyone else?  It must be, because we are all viewed as gophers, dumping grounds, catch-alls, happy to please everyone minions.

    Maybe the word “manager” in our title is wiped clean by the word “volunteer”. Or maybe everyone thinks we are so accomplished and brilliant and capable that they freely want us to be in charge. Ok, I lost my mind for a moment.

    My friend offered to help out and therein lies his problem. To him, “help out” meant an hour of set up and that would be it. To the other staff member, it meant, “ok, I’ll move on to the next event, because this one is taken care of.” She honestly thought that not only getting all the volunteers, but set-up, take down, coordinating with the facility, procuring the supplies and negotiations with the event planner was part of his “help.”

    When he told me this, I have to admit, I laughed and said, “what were you thinking?” He shook his head and agreed. We’ve both been down this road more times than a Dunkin Donuts coffee run in the morning.

    Eventually, it got straightened out, but not until after much extra work on his part. Sometimes it doesn’t even matter how clear we are with other staff members. They will try and dump their responsibilities on us especially if they feel stretched or stressed. I know a volunteer coordinator who is continually letting others dictate her job. She is miserable and no wonder. She has no time to cultivate volunteers, to creatively grow her program and to actually enjoy her job. Her day consists of cleaning up after everyone. I know I couldn’t do that for long and not end up on the front page of the newspaper for having gone nuts and torching the lobby.

    We have to be our own best friends and allies. While our jobs speak of the possibilities and wonderful work volunteers can do for our organizations, I don’t think it also includes all the “pack mule” stuff our fellow staff expect of us.

    While we continually use the phrases, “I’ve got the perfect volunteer for that job” and “I think we can help you out with that”, we also need to never be afraid to say “No, that’s not part of my job.” If we don’t, we will all end up torching the lobby!

    -Meridian

  • Don’t Sit by the Phone

    A friend of mine called me yesterday with a problem. She volunteers in a thrift store for a local organization that helps victims of domestic violence. Every Saturday, she is scheduled to work from noon until 3pm. She has been doing this for two years.

    She told me that since Christmas, it has been hard for her to get to the shop. She’s had numerous out-of-town trips to see ill family members, and oftentimes her job requires her to work on a Saturday. She tells me she is diligent about calling to let them know she will not be there. The last time she had to go out-of-town, she called to let the manager know and was told that new volunteers were starting on Saturdays and to call when she got back. She called and was told that the shop would contact her when they needed her. This was about 3 weeks ago.

    My friend is angry, confused and upset. In her mind, she did everything right and her two years of service is being discounted. She feels as though she’s been cast aside for an unknown new person. She is really hurt. She is so hurt that she is telling everyone she knows about the shoddy treatment she received.

    Hmmmmm. From a volunteer manager perspective, I can only guess that the shop really depended on my friend and that each time she could not be there caused great hardship on the manager. We all know that oftentimes it is the volunteer manager who has to replace the volunteer when they are unavailable. This makes our jobs so much harder. What volunteers don’t realize is that they are not alone in calling off. Depending upon the type of volunteer role, volunteer managers can be left doing the job of three people at any given time. If this happens day after day, the volunteer manager can grow tired of filling in and will look to someone new who might exhibit a stronger commitment.

    However, what we always have to keep in mind is the perception of the volunteer. If they believe that they have given excellent help, have followed the rules and are diligent about reporting absences, that is all they will be able to perceive. I’ve had the unfortunate experience of trying to salvage a relationship with a hurt volunteer more times than I can ever count. Perception is everything.

    Was my friend a good volunteer? I don’t know, I wasn’t there to observe her. Was her manager just looking for a way to get rid of her because she was not performing well?  I don’t know that either. I do know that volunteers who are “fired” by never calling them are not happy. Clarity is necessary, especially when the message is a delicate one. Leaving volunteers hanging, not knowing if we want them or why we don’t want them is tantamount to unleashing a barrage of negative advertising. They will talk about us, even more than the volunteer who is happy.

    Not everyone can remain a volunteer. If we do need to let someone go, it’s better that they understand why. My friend has been hurt by her experience. The volunteer manager who left her hanging probably soured my friend on volunteering. That means we’ve all lost another volunteer. And we can’t afford to do that to one another.

    -Meridian

  • Memorial Day

    I’m thinking about my uncle, who was killed aboard the U.S.S. Franklin. I never knew him. I’m thinking about a couple of volunteers whose first husbands died in WWII which brings me to thinking about all the volunteers who served and in particular, those who are no longer with us.

    There’s John who landed at Normandy and marched into Germany. He had traveled to France a few years back to receive a medal for his bravery. There’s Fred, a hard-core Marine who organized a fund-raiser single handedly because he believed in our mission. There’s Judy, the Vietnam nurse who tended to the wounded and held the hand of the dying. There’s Craig, who was a POW, escaped and made it back.

    Then there’s Dan, a British transplant who served in the British Army. What an English gentleman, sturdy, intelligent, a writer who could work with patients one day and dress in a tux to MC an event the next. He brought light and joy until he succumbed to illness. I keep his badge in my drawer.

    These men and women did not die on a field or ship far from home. They came back and lived. And live they did! How fortunate we are to have had their willingness, their work ethic and selfishly, their company. They lived and utilized their lives for the greater good. I am humbled to have known them.

    -Meridian

  • Twenty Years Later

    We had a volunteer meeting the other day and lots of volunteers showed up. There were new volunteers, all excited to share their first stories mixed in with volunteers who have been doing the work for five, six, and seven years. And then there’s Gertie, who has been doing this work for twenty years.

    I gave them an exercise to do. They had to pair up and tell each other about their most memorable patient. Then they had to write answers to a short questionnaire which complimented their partner on the worth of their visits to the patient. It was meant to reinforce the worth of their volunteer work.

    One volunteer even told me how glad she was that she came to the meeting. She wasn’t going to come, but then decided to at the last minute. She said, “Often I feel as though I’m not helping our patients. I’m glad I came today and heard all these stories. I just needed that boost to keep me going.”

    Gertie’s partner shared Gertie’s story. It was twenty years ago, Gertie’s first patient. The patient lived in a house with bars on the windows that were literally meant to keep everyone out. Gertie tried to gain access but was refused. Twenty years ago, not too many people knew what hospice was all about. Her patient was understandably suspicious.

    Gertie kept trying though and patiently stood on the stoop, explaining to the crack in the door that she was a volunteer and was assigned to help. Eventually, she was let in. That experience not only stayed with her, it helped to form her ideas about volunteering. Gertie is practical, consistent, loyal and hard working. Her first patient cemented those attributes. The patient grew to tolerate her visits and benefited from them. Gertie is not the touchy feely type and gave that patient and family what they wanted: Hands off respect.

    Everyone was quite impressed with the story and the volunteer who tenaciously did her job. They are in awe of Gertie. Frankly, so am I. Twenty years is a long time. Who stays married for twenty years? Holds a job for twenty years? Lives in the same spot for twenty years? Yet Gertie has been volunteering in the same capacity for twenty years. She is a wealth of stories and experiences. She takes little to no management because she needs none. She goes about her job with seriousness, pragmatic problem solving and a quiet respect for the rules.

    It makes me think about twenty years later for all the volunteers and for myself as well. While growth, change and learning to adjust are wonderful, there’s also something to be said for the non-romantic notion of steadiness. In the fable about the tortoise and the hare, the tortoise wins. Gertie is a volunteer tortoise, steady and slow, her eyes always directed ahead. There’s no excitement, but also no drama.  I don’t think we appreciate her enough. But then, she’s not about that, because twenty years later, I think she’s exactly where she wants to be.

    thank you Gertie.

    -Meridian