volunteerplaintalk

Category: volunteer coordinator

  • If You Can’t Thank Me, Don’t Insult Me Too

    dying plantYvette manages volunteers for a specialty hospital in a city with two other competing hospitals. Therefore, her marketing department utilizes volunteers as props, marketing tools and for as many events as Yvette can round them up for. Marketing looks to Yvette’s volunteers for continuous help in drumming up community interest and business.
    Recently, one annual major event was under the direction of a new fresh face in the marketing department. She had many novel ideas and requested twice the number of volunteers from years past. Yvette obliged, working longer hours to get the extra volunteers in to help on the day of this signature festival.
    Everything went relatively smoothly. Yvette was there that day, making sure the volunteers had someone to do all the “grunt work” so that they could excel.

    The next day, Yvette called every one of the volunteers who came out, thanking them personally for their participation and asking for any feedback that might help for the next time. Volunteers were happy to give input and Yvette was proud of their team spirit and constructive ideas, which she turned over to that new fresh face.

    Several weeks passed. A hospital executive stopped by one morning and pointedly asked Yvette if the young marketing staff member had had a wrap up meeting for the volunteers. Yvette said no and tried to point out that she had already contacted everyone, but the aggravated executive reminded her that in years past, there was always a follow up meeting for volunteers. Angrily, the executive let his guard down and complained about the multiple shortcomings of this new marketing person. Yvette listened politely, feeling uncomfortable the entire time.

    Yvette did not think much about that conversation until another two weeks had passed and she picked up the phone. Her volunteer, Joy called to inquire about an organiztional thank you note with a five dollar Walmart card attached. “Who’s idea was that?” Joy complained. “What are they thinking? What am I going to do with five dollars?” Before Yvette could digest what was being said, Joy continued. “Its an insult. I didn’t volunteer for five dollars. Is that what my time is worth? Id rather they did nothing than do this.”
    Yvette received multiple calls voicing the same sentiment. “What does management think our time is worth?” was the most voiced complaint. Yvette deftly fielded the calls, soothed nerves and assured everyone that the gift card was not meant to be an insult.
    Yvette spent many an hour doing damage control. She told her supervisor about the situation and her supervisor shrugged and said, “yes, they do stupid things,” so Yvette was pretty much on her own. She knew her supervisor would not “make waves” with a favored department. Once again, the care and feeding of the volunteers was left solely to her.

    What exactly, is a volunteer’s time worth? Five dollars, ten dollars, a luncheon, a gift card to Walmart, an occasional nomination? What do volunteers really want as appreciation? A pat on the head, a hastily scribbled speech, a once a year dinner?

    Do volunteers notice they are not part of strategic planning for the very organization they work tirelessly for? Does each hollow afterthought combine to make this perception worse? Do they truly “know their place?”

    In the fantasy world, when the cultivating of volunteers becomes everyone’s job, then a five dollar gift certificate would not be salt on an already gaping wound. Do you want to know the one sentence that Yvette heard from all the volunteers she spoke to?
    “I know YOU appreciate me, dear.”
    -Meridian

  • Excalibur, the Makin It Look Easy Sword

    king arthurThose words, “make it look easy.” Are they a compliment, or a curse? In the dictionary of English phrases, is there a picture of a volunteer manager next to the phrase, ” but you make it look easy”? How do you respond to that-a smile, a shrug, a muttered, “gee that’s what I’ve always wanted to hear?” Is making it look easy a lethal double-edged sword? How do you wield such a mighty weapon?
    Rhonda is a volunteer coordinator whose organization went through some major revamping and as they looked for ways to cut costs, they called in a professional consultant. This consultant combed through the status quo, looking at each aspect of the organization’s ability to do more with less. When the consultant, Eric, spent a four hour stint with Rhonda, he shook his head. “I can’t believe you do all this in these conditions,” he said. “you really make it look easy from the notes I’ve been given.”
    His notes consisted of statistics about the volunteer department. Rhonda supervizes 118 volunteers, who pretty much run a thrift store six days a week. The volunteers also sit at fairs, stuff envelopes, fill in for a lunching receptionist, file reports and make calls. Rhonda’s phone rings non-stop. Volunteers filter in and out of her office and she pretty much oversees them all. Rhonda sometimes fills in for volunteers when they call out sick. She is swamped. After four hours, Eric told her that she was one of the busiest staff members in her organization. “But,” he mused, “no one knows how hard you work.”
    Rhonda did not know how to respond. Frankly, she was too overwhelmed to spend much time thinking about how to use her double edged sword.

    Although Rhonda would like more help, she struggles with how to present her challenges. “Do I talk about the difficulties? Will I harm the image of the volunteers if I honestly speak about those that are a challenge? If I complain, will they just do away with volunteers all together? Do I just burn myself out and let the next volunteer coordinator figure it out?”
    As volunteer managers work hard behind the scenes and let the praise go to the volunteers, do we not cut ourselves on the back swing with our mighty sword? By making it look so easy, what are we doing to our profession? Are we contributing to the perception that managing volunteers is no more than hosting tea parties and chatting with willing participants?
    Rhonda is too tired to do much about her situation. I suspect she is not alone. Hard, hard work can lead to exhaustion and eventually burn-out. Our jobs are rewarding, complex and difficult. We should not be afraid to admit this.
    Otherwise, our arms will be too tired to lift that hulking double edged sword.
    -Meridian

  • The Open Door Policy for the Organic Farmer in Us

    friends over coffeeYes, we have an open door policy. Being accessible for the volunteers is crucial. Some staff will shake their heads and say, “why don’t you make the volunteers stick to appointments?” No, because that would make me, well, inaccessible. Yesterday, however, was one of those days that just made open door more like the fourth of July parade on steroids. All day long a steady stream of volunteers kept replacing each other in the office and each time, I would have to put down the one item I was working on and listen. Each time they left, I tried to gather my thoughts and continue but as the day wore on, I realized that on paper, I was going to accomplish nothing. I did manage to sneak a couple of phone calls in. At one point, a staff member stuck his head in, saw that I had a volunteer sitting there, motioned to me that he would see me later and left. Within three minutes he called me on my cell phone.
    I told the volunteer I had to take the call and answered. (dumb mistake I admit). I actually answered and said, “hello, Jay, I am still with my wonderful volunteer that you saw me talking to a minute ago.” To which he replied, “I know, but I really had to ask you this question.” Ahhh, I apologized to the volunteer who was telling me about the sale in the mall and she said, “Boy, those social workers really monopolize your time!”
    It went pretty much like that all day. I heard about a sick mother and everything that was being done to place her in a nursing home. I listened to the in depth recounting of an Alaskan cruise. I saw pictures from a grandson’s wedding. I heard about a granddaughter’s graduation, the home oven that wasn’t working and was just purchased, the progress on a bathroom remodel that was taking longer because parts were on back order, the reason a haircut was bad-the hairdresser had had carpal tunnel surgery recently. I tried a new bar cookie and heard about the recipe that came from a friend who loves to copy famous recipes, looked at a large bruise from a recent fall, petted the family dog that was out for a ride in a new car, admired the blouse that was gotten at a thrift store for two bucks, discussed the upcoming football season with a sports fan, went out to meet a visiting niece who was home from college, walked around with a former volunteer who missed us horribly, and learned that you can’t ever leave sweetened condensed milk boiling in cans on a stove unattended. Wow, who knew!
    I felt like I was in some coffee shop, having an eight hour latte. But you know, it really wasn’t non-productive, if you look at it in perspective. For those who have never worked with volunteers, you must have a really hard time understanding what we do. You cannot possibly know the relationships we forge and how we nurture those relationships. A brand new volunteer started opening up and I listened to him talk about his retirement and how he enjoyed staying busy and helping people. I watched him as he spoke and with no words in my head, felt him becoming a part of us.
    I kept returning to that project in between visits and by the time I mentally engaged, another volunteer would peek in. Hmm, so what? For every ten minutes I spent talking with a volunteer, I can multiply that by fifty in the amount of service hours they will provide. So, my time was never in jeopardy of being wasted. Each volunteer will perform the critical work that needs to be done.
    I think, for me at least, I get frustrated with days like that because I am conditioned to think work has to be something plainly visible, like charts and stats and well, something to show for my day. Cultivating volunteers looks to an outsider like fun and games. Staff poke their head in and see me (Horror alert) looking like I’m having a good time. That can’t be work, can it? But then, I go home bone tired. And I’ll bet you do too.
    Making each volunteer feel as though their time and lives are the most important thing at any given moment is work that’s as hard as grinding out facts and figures. We tend to our volunteers like an organic farmer caressing tender shoots. “Grow, my friend, grow into a great volunteer.” And like that nurturing farmer, we look to the day when we can stand back and admire the strong, capable volunteer in front of us.
    Do we really have the time for an open door policy? Not according to time managers; their heads would explode if they saw what we did. But according to volunteer management 101, we must make the time.
    The neglected work? It’ll be there tomorrow.
    -Meridian

  • Confessions

    pick up stixI don’t know if was a full moon, or maybe Venus somehow sneaked around and eclipsed Mars, but there was a definite vibe in my volunteer training the other evening. You know the old game Pick Up Stix where you drop sticks down and then have to pick them up one by one? New groups of volunteers remind me of the random pattern you get from that game. Each group’s dynamics is so varied, yet intertwined and the personalities clash or sync which really creates the tempo.

    One of our volunteers, Dave, has always offered to come and speak to class. I took him up on his offer. I love volunteer speakers; they are honest, inspiring, witty and extremely encouraging. You never know, though what they are going to say, but for the most part, honesty works.

    Dave sauntered in and greeted me gruffly, said hi to the newbies and got to work recounting his experiences with patients and families. He told them about patients who were funny, families who were loving, circumstances that were inspiring. He stretched his images out like canvas over a frame, painting a colorful and rich world of volunteering.

    Then, suddenly Dave shifted gears. It came after he spoke about a patient who had battled alcoholism for most of his life. Dave grew serious as he described the patient’s struggle and then launched into his own battle with alcohol abuse. He spoke about the program he enrolled in and the dedicated counselor he had.

    Oh, oh, I thought as I scanned the class. Too much information. But how do I stop Dave without giving the impression that he was speaking out of turn? But as I surveyed the faces, I could see they were mesmerized. Dave finished by emotionally thanking everyone for their attention, and as he left, his confession hovered over those pick up sticks like a hand about to drop. And before I could apologize or commend, one new volunteer, Janice started talking about her up and down battle with depression and how it had ruled her life since she was a teenager. Her classmates nodded sympathetically. Then Troy added that he had been institutionalized while in college and pretty soon each one confessed challenges they had faced in life.
    I had not only lost control, I lost my space in this jumble of sticks that were starting to move into a line. As I sat back and let them talk to one another, I realized that the next big subject we were going to tackle was active listening. I watched them listen to one another, and from habit I looked from one face to another. Every one of them was intently focused on the others. It was awesome, actually.
    They finished and looked at me like kids who were caught. “we’re sorry,” they said.
    “You know,” I mused as they allowed me back in, “this is the first time in 20 years I’ve ever done this, but I’m going to skip the first part of our active listening exercise. What you’ve done here with each other is real, authentic active listening.”
    They beamed.
    It got me to thinking. What lurks in the volunteers’ past? What stories and secrets do they keep locked away until someone gives them permission to turn the key? Does it matter if we know? What doesn’t show up on a background check? That I hate my mother, I’m obsessive compulsive, I am afraid of people with red hair? Will a background check reveal that I have an agenda? Or that I am not a team player?

    Will I watch these volunteers more closely? Honestly, no. I think they represent all volunteers. They just happened to feel comfortable enough with each other to be honest. We all have something that on paper makes us undesirable, but in person makes us honest, vulnerable, human. We want the human volunteers and that’s what we get every day. So, when new volunteers connect with one another, I don’t have to pick up sticks and worry about moving the ones below. They moved each other into a sync that will serve them well when working with our patients and families.
    Their confessions? Safe with me.
    -Meridian

  • Well, This is How it is…

    mathSo I was trying to explain my job recently to a female executive at a chamber dinner. She was sincerely curious as to what volunteer managers really do. As you know, our jobs can’t be explained in a couple of sentences; not really well, anyway. I started off badly, talking about numbers and demographics and motivations. My new friend looked at me blankly. Because I was losing ground fast, I tried talking about motivations and demographics and return on investment. After all, she lived in that world, right? She did want to understand and I am normally not tongue-tied, but here I was, stumbling over theory, slicing my job with a clinician’s knife. It sounded so meaningless and I pictured a trained monkey pointing at a chalkboard. “Oooo oooo aaahh aaahh, volunteer number one, volunteer number two.”
    As she shifted position, I felt myself start to let go of the stats and graphs and the desire to impress and I said, “you know, let me tell you a story.” She leaned forward as I thought of a current volunteer I have the pleasure of working with right now.
    “There’s this volunteer, Sharon,” I relaxed. “She was in a group that I spoke to a couple of years ago. At the time, her husband was critically ill, so she could not volunteer, but she kept one of our brochures in her desk drawer. About a year and a half after her husband died, she was just starting to think about what she could do that held some meaning for her and she happened to look for an old photo album in her desk when she came upon our brochure. Sharon turned that pamphlet over in her hand and felt that was a sign so, brochure in hand, she decided to come and see me. She was hesitant, closed up really. Her words were so heavy that they bent her over as she told me about losing her husband. I wondered if she was ready to do the work, but she was already one thought ahead and she wondered aloud if she could work with terminally ill people, but she had to at least try. As I gently explained that my first priority was to the patients, she looked down and said that she would not put her grief on them. Her painful sincerity made me want to give her a chance.
    Sharon came to training. She sat in the back, said little, but did participate in group exercises. She seemed embarrassed at times, a bit reserved or maybe just wounded. After training I put her with a no-nonsense volunteer who promised to keep an eye on the ‘newbie.’ Sharon started to visit patients in a care center setting, never alone, always with another volunteer.
    She spent many an hour in my worn chair by my desk, talking about what she observed, what she felt and what she couldn’t bring herself to do. It was always apologetic with a nervous tilt of the head. I wondered if this could work. But as the weeks went on, she started to look me in the eye. Sharon began to gingerly speak to family members, ever so humble, ever so timid. They started to tell her things, deeply personal things and she swallowed them up like prescribed medicine. The patients thanked her for listening and she found herself not needing her mentors.
    A few weeks ago she came into my office and sat in the chair. Sharon shared a journal that she had been keeping. She wanted to read her latest entry to me. She wrote, ‘I never thought I would feel worth again, but I feel it now. I feel it the minute I walk in the door. I know I am needed. I had my heart-broken and I feel it beginning to mend. I am really truly helping people and it fills me up with such joy, a joy that I thought could not be mine. I love these people, their stories, their courage, their life experiences, good and bad. I am so glad I decided to take this step. It saved my life.’”
    My new friend, this powerful female executive was listening intently. She nodded, absorbing all the nuances of our job. From recruitment, to screening to placement to cultivation, to motivation, to managing, to the retention, to the personal satisfaction when we see volunteers blossom.
    Sharon is a microcosm of our jobs. Take Sharon and multiply her by all the volunteers you have mentored. Then add in the educational in services, the recognition events, and the speaking in front of staff about volunteer accomplishments. Sprinkle in the remembering of names of children, grandchildren, pets, places they love to vacation, their birthdays and their pet peeves. Throw in a dose of advocating, cleaning up misunderstandings and checking in and re checking in. Mix in those hours spent at home pondering where to put a talented new volunteer and how to gently extract an aging one from a tough job. And don’t forget the tension lifting laughs and antics when a volunteer is down.
    I believe this executive went away with a better sense of volunteer management. I hope she has a new appreciation for all of you.
    I hope she knows that “this is how it is”… and yet, there’s so much more.
    -Meridian

  • The Frustrated Stepping Stone

    stepping stoneJules is one of seven volunteer coordinators at a hospice that boasts over 1200 volunteers. She loves her job, loves the pairing of volunteers with patients and duties, and loves developing volunteer talent.
    She’s excited to go to work each day and is sparked by researched ideas on recruiting volunteers. Like the best paper towel out there, she soaks up helpful information from her many sites on the internet.
    So, what could possibly bother this exemplary coordinator? For the past few years, there has been turnover in the volunteer services department where she works. Coordinators have taken the job while seeking a better degree or while studying for certification in another field or while garnering experience to “move ahead.” As another volunteer coordinator, Nicole’s going away party wound down, Jules found herself chatting with a senior manager, who glibly stated, “Isn’t it great about Nicole completing her BSN? It’s so nice to see people advance.” Jules smiled but inside she felt a twinge of discontent. She thought back to how Nicole would study at times, would forget volunteers’ names and when it became apparent that she would be graduating, Nicole pretty much stopped assigning volunteers. That left Jules to answer volunteer’s questions, attend meetings and continue programs. At first she didn’t mind, because she liked Nicole, but Nicole was the fourth volunteer coordinator to step over everyone in the department to advance.

    Jules sighed. “I wish I had said to the senior manager, ‘when all these people go to school to advance, that’s really great for them but that leaves me picking up their slack. Even when they are here physically, their minds are preoccupied with upcoming exams, or scary job interviews. Just because I chose to give my all to this job, does that make me any less a professional or capable of advancement? Is my area just a temporary one and because I love what I do, does that make me a dupe? Should I just get with the program and plan on using my time here to get somewhere else? Is volunteer management just a stepping stone?”
    Jules started to rethink her choices. She felt she had found her calling, and she had some great ideas and plans for the future. But, she wondered, does everyone think of volunteer services as just an entry level job?
    So, Jules had a heart to heart talk with the volunteer director, a woman she admired and hopes to one day replace. She voiced her concern that volunteer coordinators using the position to personally advance were not only hurting the department, but were also placing too much extra work on her as well. To her surprise and relief, the volunteer director had already noticed the trend. She promised to hold each coordinator accountable for their work load and promised to watch out for Jules’ enabling tendency. She wisely pointed out that Jules was the real leader of the team, the trainer, the inspirational guru and told Jules that upon retirement, she would insist Jules be made director.
    The talk helped Jules to feel better. After all, the thrill of seeing a volunteer succeed under her guidance trumps title any day. But still, the image of a leaving coordinator getting feted for advancing haunts her just a little bit.
    “I love this job.” She says firmly. “I just wish the worth of what I do would be recognized.”
    -Meridian