A prospective volunteer, Judy came to one of my orientations last month. She eagerly embraced the topics, participated in class and repeatedly told me how much she “owed” us for caring for her husband. She is passionate, ready to work and a strong woman. She and her husband owned a business that she now shares with her children. She has artistic abilities, is educated, well spoken and incredibly smart. She is that volunteer we dream about when we’re not having a nightmare that all the unfinished work has fused together into a giant smiling clown with a pillow and is suffocating us in our sleep. (You do have that dream, too, don’t you?)
I spent a good two hours with her one on one in a private interview a week after classes ended. We talked about her abilities and talents, her ideas and plans to help and all the folks in her business circle she knows that she can enlist to help too. So, what could possibly be wrong with this perfect volunteer?
Did you guess she’s moving? Nope. Did you guess she’s really crazy? Nope again.
Although we spent time talking about all those wonderful things, we spent 90% of the time talking about her husband’s illness and death. He died four years ago and to our credit, we took wonderful care of him. Judy passionately talked about losing a husband so early in life, the shock, the quickness of the rare disease, the legal issues surrounding a business and a lone position in life with friends encouraging “getting back in the dating game.” She had already started a support group on Facebook, has reached out to the community for research funds and would love to be able to help other young widows. Her ideas are lofty, her desire to help of the highest noble thoughts. Her energy is infectious and I wanted to reach into my drawer and pull out my checkbook.
Our conversation reminded me of John Walsh, the host of the TV show, “America’s Most Wanted.” Mr. Walsh began his crusade after his son, Adam was brutally murdered. It’s what experts call instrumental grieving, the throwing of oneself into a cause. It’s truly amazing to watch someone do that, to see their resolve, to feel their calling. These people are remarkable. They turn despair and tragedy into benefits for the rest of us. I know if my husband were to fall ill to that disease that took Judy’s husband, I would want her coaching me.
But, I cannot, in good conscience, put Judy with patients, family members or the bereaved. It matters not that she really, really, really wants to help. It matters not that she is full of passion and energy. But it does matter that in the three times we’ve talked, everything always comes back to her experience.
I’ve witnessed raw, unrelenting grief before. I’ve seen potential volunteers so fired up that they speak in a machine gun volley that shoots down every thought that does not apply to their situation. I’ve watched eager people grasp onto volunteering like a life-preserver in a sea of molten pain. I feel for them, because, just like every other volunteer, I get to know them and to know these volunteers is to know heartache. I so want to help them work through their grief, but my first loyalty is to the clients at hand. And they need volunteers who are sound, mostly healed, or at least healed enough to put aside their own lives.
And so, as the conversation wound down, Judy looked at me and breathlessly asked, “do you think I can do this?”
“Not yet,” I answered truthfully. See, I’ve learned over the course of so many years that it’s much kinder to be honest. Then I added, “I’m thinking that you will be wonderful with our patients and families one day and we are incredibly fortunate to have you. Right now, I hear some hurt and we don’t want this work to add to your hurt. You’ve been through so much.”
“I know. It still hurts and I trust your judgement.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I just need to help.” I could see the dam about to break but she quickly stuck another emotional patch on the crack that threatened to burst.
What a burden to trust me, I thought selfishly. I’m fallible, running on instinct and gut. I want to be wrong about you, to just let you come in and get whole again.
Here’s where volunteer management is on a whole other level from standard HR. Just like HR, we have jobs to fill and we head hunt for the best people for the job. But we don’t reject people. We don’t pick and choose. We try to find a place for everyone, and it takes hard work to find places for everyone. I will find a place for Judy. We will start small and away from the clients. I want to see her succeed as a volunteer and to mend her deep wounds. It will take time, observation, mentoring and caution. That’s what I signed up to do.
But first, I will do no harm, not to Judy and not to our clients.
-Meridian
Category: volunteer retention
-
First, Do No Harm
-
So The Magic Number is Six
I’ve always wondered if there is a magic formula to plot when volunteers would leave. I don’t mean something sophisticated enough to figure out when they might become ill, or have to move or get a job or take in a relative or anything like that. I’m talking about volunteers who have the opportunity to stay and don’t. I wish there was a handy dandy calculator that would tell me when they need to quit or take a break. Because I think it is true that all good things must come to an end, including wonderful volunteers. The honeymoon is over. The bloom is off the rose. The, well you get the idea. I’m thinking of Carla, who has been with us (me in particular) for six years. She’s tenacious, opinionated, a pitbull, organized, a whirling dervish of activity, a control freak, a friend, a co-conspirator, a great dependable worker. So, what’s the issue? I think we’ve reached her shelf life-that is, with me and my administrative duties anyway. I remember not too long ago how she was so proud of her five year service pin but after we pinned that on her, she started to display a certain bossy attitude. She ran the shop, ruled the roost and put the volunteers to work. It was both a blessing and a curse. She started to get involved in matters she overheard, and started to subtly insert herself into conversations that did not really include her. We talked about her life at home, about her chronically ill sister and how she could not get to see her often. We talked about retirement and aches and pains and about life’s twists and turns. We covered the obvious culprits for changed behavior, but nothing really seemed to be amiss. Yet, there was something restless about Carla. It was as if she was hearing the call of the coyote on the prairie. I wondered if maybe I took her for granted and so I praised her more, paid more attention. Then I wondered if all the praise I heaped on her for getting things organized gave her the impression that I thought she was done. Crazy, huh? And yet, there was that nagging feeling that the cowgirl in the white hat was looking to ride away.If you don’t believe me, let me share with you the comments that Carla has made six years ago compared to the comments she is making now.
Six Years Ago:
I can’t wait to get in here and help you get organized.
Now:
I know you can’t find it, you never can.
Six Years Ago:
Can I come in on Thursday to finish?
Now:
I’m taking a few weeks off. I need to revitalize.
Six Years Ago:
How do you keep such a positive attitude with all you have
going on?
Now:
None of this is funny, you know.
Six Years Ago:
I love coming here.
Now:
So, what exactly do you have for me to do today?
Six Years Ago:
I feel useful, needed.
Now:
You need me, you know?
Six Years Ago:
Everyone here is so nice.
Now:
Everyone here is nuts.
Six Years Ago:
My pleasure.
Now:
You owe me big time for this one, right?See what I mean?
So, last week she said to me, “I hope you don’t get mad, but I’m thinking about working with Allie in fund-raising. They really need help over there and I think I can help them get organized for the next event. I’ll still come here every other week and see what you have.”
There you have it. Am I disappointed? Minimally, because I hate dragging things out, even things that have come to their natural end. And I believe we are at Carla’s natural end, with me, at least. I’m glad we have other areas for her to volunteer in, but if we didn’t, she would be gone.
Do I feel guilty? Not in the least. I know staff members who leave faster than the jack rabbit that saw a dog. Unless we, volunteer managers actually do something to drive a volunteer away, then guilt has no place in our box of emotions. Volunteers too get tired, bored, or feel as though they have done what they’ve set out to do. And so, when volunteers ride into the sunset, having accomplished the very thing they came to do, we should cheer them on. Thanks for your time and service! You really cleaned up Dodge!
She’ll do a great job over there. I can attest to that. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll ride back in when the wind blows my way. I hope so.
Until then, anybody seen a cowpoke around looking to spruce things up a bit? I’m in need of one.
-Meridian -
There are No “No-Brainers”
David is a social worker and part-time volunteer coordinator for a small hospice. He coaches and encourages about 20 volunteers while providing psychosocial services for 40 nursing home patients. He jokes that he’s perfect for the volunteer manager position because “I just can’t stop offering to do things.” He has been mentoring volunteers for almost a year now and enjoys that aspect of his job. “I feel like I can really place volunteers with a patient, because I have first hand knowledge of what that patient is about. I can really connect with the volunteers too, because we both see the same people. I feel like it’s a win-win.”
A few months ago, David was approached by a lady, Ruth, who owns Jingle, a therapy dog. Jingle is a mixed breed rescued dog and the story of how Ruth adopted him during a Christmas storm touched David’s heart. “It was awesome, and petting Jingle while Ruth told me his story made me realize how much our patients would love having him visit.” Together, David and Ruth came up with a schedule for Jingle to visit patients in a small nursing home that specializes in working with dementia residents.
“Everything seemed fine at first,” David recalls. “I went with Ruth the first time and introduced her to the activities director, Lynn. Lynn was very welcoming and showed Ruth and Jingle the activities room and the nurses’ station. David was secretly thrilled at having introduced some alternative therapies into the volunteer program. “I always felt like if I could just have the time to do the volunteer program some justice, I would have some real neat therapies going on. I realized shortly after I started that volunteer management takes time and real effort. There’s more to it than I ever imagined.”
After several weeks, Ruth started missing her scheduled days. David would call her when he could to check in. She said she had forgotten, or something had come up. “I was starting to get worried,” he said. “I tried to coax the real reason out of her, but she wasn’t forthcoming. I was really confused.”
One day Ruth came into the office and asked to see David. She and Jingle settled into his small space and Ruth offered this explanation. “I think we are going to stop seeing patients for a while,” she said as she stroked Jingle’s head. “It’s just not working out the way I thought it would. The patients who we see, well, I don’t know how to put this, but they really don’t seem to get much out of our visits. They don’t seem very enthused when they see Jingle and well, he’s not excited to go there.”
“Oh,” David said was the best he could muster. “I’m sorry you had that experience.” David said that when he recovered, he offered to send Ruth and Jingle into a different facility. He said he tried very hard to explain that his patients might not outwardly seem engaged, but Ruth was adamant. Ruth left and said she would be in touch in a few months and meanwhile, she was going to continue to visit a Children’s hospital nearby.
David was stunned. “I honestly never in a million years expected that,” he said. “There is no doubt in my mind that the patients got so much from her visits. I just felt so helpless trying to make her see that, but I couldn’t. I really don’t know what I could have done better. It bothers me a lot that I thought this was a no-brainer and it was anything but. Maybe I need to spend more time with new volunteers, but I just can’t.” David paused. “Clearly volunteers are much more complex than I thought. I mean, the ones who were already here and working, I thought everyone new would be just like them, but I was wrong.”
We’ve all experienced the seeming no-brainer. The volunteer who is a veteran will enjoy working exclusively with veterans. The volunteer who had an experience like our clients’ will be perfect working with our clients. The volunteer who needs hours for whatever reason will do what we ask to get those hours. None of these situations are no-brainers because, frankly there are no no-brainers. No volunteer can be pigeon-holed into a role. At least, not for long.
You’ve had volunteers like this: The mother who wants her child to volunteer and thinks he’s the next Einstein. The man who is humble and seems lonely but secretly wants to be a motivational speaker. And the dog owner who looks you in the eye but sorta speaks to you through her dog. Each volunteer is a complex human being with needs and desires. Sometimes they have issues, hang-ups and funny quirks. But, as we place volunteers in positions, we rely more heavily on understanding the motivations and needs of each and every volunteer than our counterparts in the realm of paid employees do. We are literally human resources on steroids.
I can only assure David that we have all been down that road. Why do volunteers stay? Well, I’ve yet to see a chart that explains it, because it’s the individuality of volunteers that we cultivate. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t tenets by which to manage volunteers. There are, but as long as we keep in mind that each new volunteer has their own path, we will be less likely to drop square pegs into round holes.
Now that’s a no-brainer!
-Meridian -
Looking Forward, Thinking Back
I have spent the last two days of 2013 calling volunteers who are no longer volunteering due to illness, taking care of a relative, moving, surgery, etc. etc. While it’s tempting to play with the shiny new toys, these volunteers are the scuffed skates, the soccer ball you have to pump up regularly and the doll whose hair can never look as good as it did in the box. They are time worn and valuable and connecting with them always makes me feel nostalgic for old times and honestly, sometimes old me.
The new year is a time to look forward, and oh my goodness, those of us in volunteer management need to look forward just to keep up with all the trends. But if that is all we do, then we lose our roots. We lose what grounds us, what teaches us and what makes us good at what we do. I’ve met many folks who pooh pooh the notion that history is important. They want to just keep moving forward without looking back. I beg to differ. Our history enriches our perspective and lays the path so that we can move forward with knowledge and experience.And while I’m making grandiose plans to recruit hundreds of new, perfect volunteers, I sincerely hope that I have the foresight to value those volunteers who have been the pioneers, the ones who have taught me so much. Trends come and go, but the good old fashioned principles of volunteer management never go out of style. Here’s to you, the volunteers who give selflessly and continually. Thank you for a good year. I look forward to your wisdom in the future. Cheers!
-Meridian -
Name That Theme!
Ahhh themes. This week I have three themed get togethers for volunteers. Holidays are the easiest themes, because they are well, holidays, so yay, it’s a no brainer. The stores are full of holiday stuff to buy, maybe just pick a color or an elf or cute peppermint candy. “Brain, deactivate, the Dollar Store has it all in control!”
It’s the rest of the year that gets so hard. There’s the annual luncheon. There’s volunteer appreciation week. And then there are meetings, educational in-services, celebrations, nominations etc. Food becomes second nature. I can whip out a pot of coffee, hot chocolate, and a plate of yummy cookies with my eyes closed and my brain wandering into that little boutique window I saw on the way over. I even have a cute apron that says, (don’t laugh) “I’m serving YOU this time.” Clever, huh?
But every time there’s an event, it means figuring out what to call it, what to decorate with and what to say that ties it all in together. And what a lovely plethora of themes to choose from. You think LOL Cats is too cute? Let’s just look at some of our more common volunteer themes and the inexpensive ways we can decorate:
There’s “VOLUNTEERS, THE HEART OF (insert your organization)”. Hearts are great. If you get them after Valentine’s Day, they are really cheap. And we all learned how to cut out hearts in kindergarten, so this is an easy one.
There’s “VOLUNTEERS, OUR SHINING STARS”. Also a pretty easy one. There’s five-pointed stars to tape to the ceiling or you can staple clip art shooting stars all over the walls. My favorite is using movies stars. If you have a tween daughter, you can borrow posters of Justin Bieber or Katy Perry which costs nothing but then you’re living with an angry adolescent and it might take some bribery to make her happy again.
There’s “VOLUNTEERS, OUR TREASURES”. I’ve seen some pretty interesting attempts at treasure chests. But this is a good theme if you have a lot of junk, fake jewelry around that you can scatter about the tables. If you’ve made a trip to Mardi Gras and gotten tons of beads for doing things you regretted the next morning, this is the theme for you.
How about “VOLUNTEERING, A WORK OF HEART”. This clever play on words means you can put up random pictures of art work cut from that $1 art history book bought at a thrift store or you can raid your refrigerator door for some child art. Either way, it’s pretty cheesy so don’t plan on inviting the CEO.
“VOLUNTEERS ARE THE DIFFERENCE”. Tough one, but you can get free pictures of before and after pictures out of magazines. There’s a lot of before and after pictures of face lifts, so you can showcase the incredible results on the walls. If a volunteer should ask why you chose pictures of face lifts, you can slyly say that “Volunteers give us a lift.”
“VOLUNTEERS, A WORLD OF CARING”. Globes and atlases are fairly expensive so you might need to visit your local chamber for some free maps. That, and you can always swipe your son’s solar system science project for some additional punch.
“OUR VOLUNTEERS ARE CHAMPIONS”. I love this one. We all have random sports equipment in our closets. Personally, I use my work out equipment. All the brand new tags are still on it.
So, I was thinking the other day of some easy themes based solely on readily available and easy to get items. Here’s a few I might try.
“VOLUNTEERS HAVE CARING IN THE BAG”. I have so many of those plastic grocery bags, I thought I could just staple them around the room. I can make a game out of trying to throw wadded paper in the bags to amuse them.
“VOLUNTEERS, THE BRANCHES ON THE TREE OF CARING”. So, I can go into my yard and clip enough branches from my trees to scatter about the room. I might get scratched by a thorn or two, but at least it’s organic and free. Maybe afterwards I could start a small bonfire and we could roast marshmallows.
“VOLUNTEERS: THE PAY STINKS BUT YOU GET CUTE LITTLE PARTIES LIKE THIS!” This is where I will use all the left over stuff from all the other cute little parties that I’ve given. Cheap, easy and a good way to clean my back room.
“VOLUNTEERS: NOTHING CAN DESCRIBE HOW MUCH WE APPRECIATE YOU”. Yes, when all else fails, in keeping with the theme, I will use nothing. No decorations, no cute giveaways, nothing. I will act very avant-garde and when they leave, I will give each volunteer a handful of nothing while declaring “your worth is beyond paltry trinkets!” This probably would be the last time any volunteer comes to a function so I might have to save this one until I’m ready to retire.
So, please enjoy the upcoming holidays for what they really are: The chance to not have to rack your brain to come up with a clever theme!
-Meridian -
If It is Too Good to Be True…
Coretta is a striking 85-year-old artist. As she enters a room, images of her as a young, startlingly beautiful woman trail her like ethereal mists. Her blue eyes take one in from a perfect face and I feel like a mouse scrutinized by an eagle. Her husband Glenn, is a commercial artist and they have shown me pictures of his artistic product designs for major companies, most of them from the 1960’s. They shared these pictures to show me they are legitimate. Luckily, they seemed to like me.
Coretta offered to design a journal for our use. The journals would be given to patients or family members who would like to record their thoughts. The journal would have poetic prompters to help them visualize things to say. Coretta has written short haiku poems to be incorporated into the sides of the pages, giving the journal a professional quality. She and I corroborated often about how to distribute the journal, types of patients and methods of discovering how the journals were utilized.
As we worked together, Coretta told me in her breathy voice that she had gone to another agency and was initially welcomed with enthusiasm. She was going to paint a flowering vine for their lobby that would be filled with pictures of the clients served. She mused that it would be not only a lovely welcoming addition, but also a therapeutic exercise for the participants. Trouble is, as with many short-staffed, overworked organizations, no one at that agency could take the time to help her get started.
Frankly, if I let myself say it, I’m also too busy for the fluffy projects. But, there was something about those blue eyes that compelled me to scratch out the time from somewhere. And besides, I have gotten a bit self-serving. I need breaks from all the minutiae that weigh me down. Coretta let me float for just a bit.
My plan was to ask some very crafty volunteers to put these journals together and to begin by distributing them to select patients. Over the years, I’ve found that asking for permission to do a project takes forever, so by experimenting and proving that a project works, it makes it easier to sell. Anyway, we finalized her designs, complete with a Coretta sketch of a rose adorning the cover.
She stopped in the other day to talk to me. As we were chatting, she said, “I have been thinking about this whole project. I’m certain that other organizations would like to have it for their clients too, so I think that I would eventually like to market it. That is, after we’ve seen how it is received here and after some modifications.”
Boom, the eagle swooped in and ate me as I was nibbling some cheese. “Oh, how interesting,” I managed. Now, at that point, my brain started shrieking at me, “What!!!! Are you kidding???” And as I let those initial thoughts burst and flutter like confetti in my mind, I looked back into those blues and said, “Coretta, that is your prerogative. This is your work, your ideas, your poetry and art. You own that.”
She nodded with an artist’s smile and I continued, “if you want to do that, then we absolutely can’t use it here and stamp our logo on it. It is yours and you are entitled to keep it and protect it. But I cannot in good faith continue with this project.”
She studied me for a bit and said, “yes, well, I appreciate your honesty.” I could feel her talons caressing me, the me that spent precious time helping her. “I appreciate all your hard work and have thoroughly enjoyed learning about your organization.”
I didn’t say anything to anyone, especially anyone (well, everyone if you must know) who has been making fun of me for wasting my time with this pompous (their words) lady. Honestly, they wanted nothing to do with her.
See, here’s where I sometimes get myself into big trouble and then sometimes I uncover a golden volunteer nugget. I have to do more than just get to know people who want to volunteer. I have this weird side that feels like I’m digging for the next great volunteer. I’ll bet you have a side like that too.
While I’m not sure what will happen, because Coretta may rethink and decide to give her works to us, but really, I doubt that will happen. Did I waste my time with her and did she just want to use me to develop a product to sell? Maybe, but I’m choosing to think not. I’m choosing to think that she had good intentions, at least at the start. And we all know that there are plenty of volunteers with good intentions that don’t continue for some reason. We can only move on.
So, the question becomes, do we continue to dig, oftentimes alone for those volunteer nuggets even though we occasionally come up empty-handed? Until the day volunteer nuggets rain from the sky, I guess we’ll have to.
-Meridian -
Roadblocks
Jeff is a part-time volunteer manager at a small community hospital. He is responsible for staff education, special projects and the 50 auxiliary volunteers. An educator by trade, he is new to volunteer management, but embraces the idea that volunteers add real value to his organization. He has an auxiliary president and vice president who recruit, interview and train the new volunteers. The hospital volunteers run the gift shop, do office work and are expected to staff the reception desk seven days a week. Lately, though, the receptionist volunteers have been telling the auxiliary president that they cannot effectively do their job because the desktop computer doesn’t work properly.
A rather ancient piece of equipment, the computer is necessary for finding a patient’s location. The computer acts up by losing connections and then it takes a few minutes to reboot. The volunteers resort to calling hospital staff for room numbers, which is beginning to be a problem for irritated employees who are impatient with the volunteers. Jeff, thinking that it would be an easy fix, put in a work request to repair or replace the desktop. When he did not receive a timely reply and after more volunteers complained, he called the maintenance department who told him the request was being reviewed. Puzzled, Jeff called his superior who said that all capital expenses or major repairs had to be reviewed by a committee. When pressed on how long the process would take, the superior curtly said that he did not know, but would inform Jeff when he had an answer. After three weeks of growing impatience and endless excuses, the volunteers started to doubt that Jeff had actually requested help. They began to complain loudly and some threatened to quit. Jeff called his supervisor again and brusquely asked about the status of his request. “Come on,” he said, “I’ve got people wanting to quit. I need some movement on this.” After another week, the fed up volunteers started to miss their shifts, leaving Jeff to frantically call the auxiliary president to find replacements. The empty reception desk was noticed, but instead of acknowledging Jeff’s predicament, the senior management complained down through the channels that Jeff was not doing his job staffing the front desk. Jeff blew his stack. “This is ridiculous,” Jeff fumed. “If they expect a volunteer to do a job for free, the least they can do is provide them the tools necessary to do that job. Instead, this organization drags its financial heels, thinking that it doesn’t matter. Well it does. Paid staff can’t and won’t just quit, but volunteers can and will.” Jeff continued, “and then, they have the nerve to complain when volunteers quit, as if they have no culpability in this. It’s maddening how they dismiss the basic tools volunteers need, but are vocal when their roadblocks cause us to lose volunteers. It’s as if they think that volunteers will do anything asked of them, no matter how they are treated or no matter how tough they make it for the volunteers to successfully do their job. It’s ludicrous!”Jeff is spending a great deal of time soothing the disillusioned volunteers who rightfully feel that they are not worth the price of a new computer. Jeff is not giving up, even though some really good long-term volunteers are choosing to stay home. He’s not used to using the nails on a blackboard voice, but to him, it has become about what is right. Hopefully his administration will do the right thing. Hopefully they will realize the difference between staff who must deal with inconveniences and volunteers, who can choose to leave if conditions are unacceptable.
But if administration won’t, then when the next volunteer leaves, each manager should be made to figure out how to replace that volunteer and each manager should have to say to the new volunteer, “You know we really don’t think you are worth proper equipment. But keep coming in and working for free anyway and stop complaining.”
Because essentially, that’s what Jeff has to do.
-Meridian -
The Door Shuts
This is a tough story to tell, partly because it’s hard to find those keeper nuggets of truth that help the rest of us navigate our jobs. Sometimes, I think things just are and maybe really these experiences are like everyday life. You can’t predict them and the only way to prevent them is to stop living.
Cara is a wonderful volunteer coordinator with a big heart as almost all volunteer coordinators are. She’s been doing this for years, has mentored and seen at least a thousand volunteers come and go. She has wisdom and has honed her instincts like a blacksmith with a prized sword.
Several years ago, Cara met a young woman, Gwen, who showed an interest in volunteering. Gwen was hesitant, but hopeful and Cara encouraged her, letting Gwen take small steps to find her niche. Gwen rapidly blossomed into what Cara describes as “one of the most gifted volunteers I have ever encountered.” Gwen was magic with clients and had a presence that allowed even the most downtrodden individual a voice. Words such as “angel,” “like my own grandchild,” and “my confidante” came floating back on waves of gratitude.
Cara quietly mentored Gwen, preferring to stand back and let Gwen’s innate ability flourish. As they spent more time together, Cara learned that Gwen had a difficult childhood. She was estranged from her mother and Cara, ever the professional, did not step in to fill those missing shoes. Instead, she listened and encouraged, much the same as she did with all of her volunteers. But this one, this one was like the Derby winning horse in the stable. Gwen was worth the extra effort because the clients deserved the best volunteer help.
As the years went on, Cara heard more and more about Gwen’s chaotic life outside the organization. She had a family and a job and troubles seemed to swirl around her in a cacophony of drama. But Gwen still had that touch with clients, and although Cara’s radar now went up, she carefully kept watch on Gwen’s volunteering.
Occasionally, Gwen would drop in and cry for twenty minutes. Illness, fights with her husband, disagreements with her boss, run-ins with parents of her children’s classmates would knock her world out of orbit. Concerned, Cara suggested counseling and one day Gwen came into the office sobbing about her counselor. Cara immediately removed Gwen from any and all volunteering. She told Gwen to please concentrate on herself for a change. What Cara did not say was that she now thought Gwen an inappropriate volunteer.
Their relationship morphed into Cara’s trying to help Gwen but with none of the volunteering. I asked Cara why she continued with Gwen and she said, “you know, it’s not that easy, just giving up on someone who hasn’t done anything wrong. Clearly she needed help and I had forged a relationship with her. I couldn’t just turn my back on her. And besides, when you see flashes of brilliance in someone, you can’t help but think that they are salvageable.”
At some point, Gwen became angry with Cara, and stayed away for a bit, but then came back and Cara tried to help again. At this point, it had been two years since Gwen had done any volunteering. The second time Gwen got mad, Cara shut the door and now has no plans to re-open it. “I’m done,” she says. Does she miss the opportunity to help Gwen reclaim greatness? Not as much as you might think. She says, “it was like I could feel the flutter of a page turning. I feel finished, and I’ve done all I can. Besides, I have other volunteers to mentor.”
I asked Cara if she thought once Gwen got her life under control, would she be able to return? “Honestly, no. I think that was a time in her life when volunteering fit and made sense. It will be impossible to recapture.”
I’ve always thought that volunteers have a shelf life. Whether illness, moving away, disinterest or inability to function in the best interests of the client are the reasons, it won’t matter. When it’s time for a volunteer to stop, either by our request or theirs, then it’s time.
Can we compare volunteering to art? I think so. Some genius is tempered with madness. I don’t think it’s a stretch to apply that to our brightest volunteers. I’ve seen them. Brilliant volunteers who paint masterpieces like van Gogh but are burdened with issues that often become too much. It’s sad and we walk a fine line between encouragement and interference. We want not only what’s best for those we serve, but also what’s best for the volunteers. Sometimes, even we can’t make that happen. We can only do the best we can with what we have to work with. And who knows how well service fits within a volunteer’s view of the themselves and the world. We have to be able to let that door shut when volunteering no longer works for the clients and for the volunteers.
If we can’t, then we’ll go mad.
-Meridian -
The Mulligan Volunteer
If a Mulligan is a “freebie”, then Phil is my Mulligan volunteer. All right, I actually have more than one, so don’t tell anyone. I keep Phil on the active volunteer list even though he hasn’t done any volunteering for ten years. Yeah, he’s active only in my mind. Why do I hold on to him?
Well, let me tell you about Phil. I have known Phil now for oh, about 17 years. He came to volunteer when I was just an idealistic blob of volunteer coordinator tissue to be molded by good old-fashioned experience and opinionated volunteers. I was hopeful, scared and curious all at the same time. But I digress.
When I first met Phil, he was an old pro at volunteering. A retired executive, Phil had smarts, energy and that electric smile. I leaned on Phil a bunch. He took difficult cases. He made me laugh and learn. He once drove 30 miles to bail me out on an assignment. I never, once, heard a negative breath come out of that man. Inspirational? I’ll put him up against Gandhi in the Inspiration Olympics. Caring? Let him get in the Care ring with Mother Teresa, cause she better look out for his right hook. Willing? Well, you get the idea.
Phil has been getting older. He’s had to pare down his volunteering activities to about seven. No kidding, that’s how much he does. And, as he weighs what he can do, it all boils down to convenience. At his age, that’s a huge consideration. So, the fact that he can’t really help us out anymore is no reflection on our mission or treatment of him. This, I understand.
But let me tell you the real reason I keep him on the active list. Phil takes in homeless people. Yep, takes him into his home to live. Homeless vets, homeless families, he quietly takes them in to let them get back on their feet. His friends (and even some of our volunteers) have warned him that he could be inviting trouble, but Phil just shrugs. “Someone has to help.”
How do you measure a man like that? I’m always astounded at how Phil lives his life. He’s not going to be featured on any news show. He wouldn’t want it anyway. He’s not going to be elected Mayor of his town. He’d hate that. He lives his life by serving. I was just lucky to have him cross my path for a while. He’ll always be “active” to me.
I think we all need our Mulligan volunteers. In my organization, we have emeritus volunteers. These are volunteers who can’t help anymore, but they are invited to every function we have. They’ve earned it. Phil earned it the first week he volunteered. I think of so many of them, who give their all and when they can’t anymore, have to bow out. For the sake of my own soul, I cannot let them fade away. They love to teach others, speak to orientations, mentor newbies, write policy and mainly just chat. Although the chatting part takes a lot of precious time, after a conversation with one of them, I always end up feeling like I’m home. And because I’ve been doing this so long, I fear that no one else will remember. I sense these valuable volunteers slipping away like forgotten stories never written down.
I think of all the phone calls I need to make and it’s overwhelming. But I have to find the time and energy. If Phil can open his home to homeless strangers, I can certainly open my heart to emeritus volunteers. They are a as much a part of volunteering as the fresh face. I can’t let them feel anything but honored and never forgotten.
And though I won’t get any productivity out of the time spent reconnecting with emeritus volunteers, I know it is the right thing to do. And how much of our jobs is about doing the right thing?
I think I’ll start with Phil.
-Meridian -
Volunteering: Well-being Gained or Brought?
Jess is a petite brunette who brings a tranquil aura to her volunteering. She is positive, sensitive and gracious. That is, until a few weeks ago. I noticed something slightly askew when she complained about not having enough forms to fill out. She seemed irritated and preoccupied. I caught her a week later staring vacantly into space, and when spoken to, uninterested in the conversation. I had to ask her what was wrong and she reluctantly confided that her son just entered drug rehab. Ahhh, of course. Personal problems push aside tranquility like a schoolyard bully with the new kid.
Jess just wasn’t here, not 100%, and I suspect not even 50%. So, how does volunteering fit in with Jess’ definition of well-being?
As I pondered Jess’ circumstance and wondered if her volunteering gave her some sort of welcome distraction or if it just crowded her thoughts, I started thinking about how we “sell” volunteering by talking about how good it is for the participants. This caused me to reflect on the thousands of conversations with volunteers about their personal circumstances. It occurred to me that the vast majority of volunteers came with well-being already intact. We didn’t create well-being for them. We may have enhanced it, we may have filled a void, added a dimension, helped with grief, paved a way, helped fill time, boosted self-esteem, and maybe even helped mend a heart.But in all those cases, we added, not created. This was a sobering thought for me. I’ve had volunteers who were forced to come, whether by a parent, spouse, school, court or a friend. The door for them is often shut. I think I’m kidding myself if I believe that I can make them a volunteer in spite of their resistance. They have to give just a little.
I remember Jana, a crushed human being. She came out of real desperation. She took over a year to start actually volunteering. Her beginning was spent healing. She made it with real determination. But the point is, she made it because she always wanted to make it and was willing to open up and find how she could. This becomes a tightrope walk for volunteer managers. How do you encourage someone to volunteer without letting them “experiment” on clients? It takes a great deal of patience and time and effort. It can be exhausting, especially since you have so many other volunteers to mentor. I think volunteer managers take personal pride in helping someone through volunteering. But I think, too, we don’t kid ourselves into thinking that volunteering will “fix” anyone.
I think of Antoinette, whose grown son had died 12 years before. She had hoped that by volunteering, she would find a way to fill the hole in her heart. She volunteered for 3 years, and it never happened. She spent the vast majority of her volunteer time talking to me about how her son’s wife was a negligent mother. She hurt, and no amount of volunteering helped. As a matter of fact, very early on in her volunteering, I once found a family member comforting Antoinette. After that, I kept her away from clients. Antoinette’s volunteering was exhausting. Other volunteers asked me why I put up with it. Honestly, I don’t know, but I suspect that somehow, I thought volunteering had this magical quality to it. I’m not so sure anymore.
I’ve had people tell me that volunteering has changed their life. What I think now, is that volunteering opened the door for a part of them that was always there. And if that’s the best we can do, then I’m pretty proud of that. Because it also means that we don’t have to continue to blame ourselves if volunteering doesn’t work for everyone. It’s not a salve or an elixir or a magic pill. It is an act of putting oneself aside to help someone else in their time of need. It takes a certain amount, even if it is miniscule, of well-being to volunteer. We, volunteer managers, can usually find that well-being fiber that allows someone to give selflessly. We love to cultivate it and make it grow.
But we don’t have drawers full of magic pills to hand out. Our drawers are full of the stuff that helps us do our job, like listening skills, discernment, patience and good, sound judgement.
And so, I now think that I’ve always been looking for volunteers to come and be well, not come and get well. Our clients certainly deserve that.
-Meridian
volunteerplaintalk 