volunteerplaintalk

Category: volunteer retention

  • Go Ahead, Be Brutal

    bridge and riverNo, I’m not masochistic. Not even close. My little world is filled with kittens and marshmallows shaped like flowers and moonbeams streaming through the forest. (after all, why else would I be in this job?) But, I also don’t want volunteers to lead me on. You know, tell me that I’m wonderful, that you want to spend time with me, buy me flowers… (oh wait, that’s a different conversation, oops).
    But in volunteer management, I court the volunteer, right? I woo them with tales of how wonderful it will be, I walk beside them, listen, adjust, mentor, guide, run interference, and heck, put a bunch of time in, making sure volunteering will work for individual rewards. After all, it’s what volunteers want, right?
    So, here, I think is my biggest frustration. I’m thinking of Yancey who had/has such potential. She is young and vibrant and full of compassion. She paid strict attention in training, and bright eyed, couldn’t wait to start. She was mentored by seasoned volunteers, and is truly magical with patients. She writes comprehensive reports. She passed every background test. She is perfect. Well, was. That is, until she just stopped.

    At first, I assigned Yancey to a volunteer friendly nursing home. Both of the two current volunteers were leaving, but for different reasons. They had built a great relationship with the nursing home staff and together, they introduced Yancey to the patients and the employees. It seemed like a good fit. Yancey was excited. I called her frequently, answered any questions and assumed things were working out.
    Two months later, she stopped sending in reports. She did not return my calls, nor did she answer emails. Then an email I sent bounced back at me. Still no word. I checked with the facility and they had not seen her in weeks. I finally, reluctantly removed her name from our list and started searching for another volunteer to take her place.
    Was I mad at her for not wanting to volunteer anymore? No. This is, after all, volunteering. Would I judge her for her reason to stop? Absolutely not. If volunteering isn’t adding to someone’s life, they shouldn’t be doing it. Did her stopping ruin my life? C’mon.
    But, do I wonder what happened? Would I rather hear the reason even if it means finding out I failed her somehow? Absolutely. How else can I correct a situation or behavior if I don’t know about it? I suspect that Yancey couldn’t fit volunteering into her busy lifestyle, or more accurately, volunteering with those patients wasn’t rewarding enough to fit into her busy lifestyle.

    I could have told her that this is not my first experience. I’m used to volunteers leaving for so many different reasons. At least for some, I know why. That helps. For others, they float away like an unfinished manuscript dropped in a river. If only….
    I may pen her a letter but I truly wish I could have spoken to her and offered her something else or a more flexible schedule. It may have worked. But if not, at least I could have assured her that she was welcome back at any time in the future. I could have told her that she was a good volunteer and that she needn’t be embarrassed about quitting. I suspect that may be the case.
    But I don’t know. I wish I did.
    -Meridian

  • Bumping Into Carmen

    grocery hidingThe other day I literally bumped into Carmen who has not been volunteering for over a year. I came around the corner at the grocery store and boom, there she was, picking out paper towels. Occasionally I run into former volunteers; those who left because they became ill, those who stopped because life changed, or those who just don’t volunteer anymore. Then there are the ones who left for another reason; mainly we asked them to leave because they did something egregious, like breaking rules, stepping over hard fast boundaries, meddling in financial affairs, yelling at a patient’s family or lying to us about a former run-in with the law. Sadly, there are some folks who just aren’t meant to be a volunteer, at least, not until they figure some things out.
    You know how this goes. You’re out in public minding your own business and you suddenly catch a volunteer you don’t want to see (mainly because you don’t want to explain again how sorry you are things didn’t work out) walking amongst the artichokes and you panic and sprint the other way, pretending you see a friend in the distance? That’s how work catches up with you on a Saturday.
    Well, Carmen is none of these volunteers. You see, my organization did Carmen wrong and it still pains me to this day. When I bumped into her, I grabbed her with a big smile and we hugged and I told her how much I miss her and how sorry (again) I was. She grinned at me, still a bit wounded and patted my cheek. “It’s ok,” she said, although to me it is not.
    Let me tell you a bit about Carmen.
    She came over from Cuba during the revolution and made her home in America with her husband, Jose. They are the type of couple who share their “love story” with anyone who cares to hear. He rescued her and brought her family over. She presided over a brood of six children, all now successful adults. Carmen makes mad coconut flan. Jose plays the guitar. They are infectious in a good way. But more than that, Carmen has a rare gift. She looks into your soul when she speaks to you. She tells you she loves you and she means it. You can feel her heart if you get within 20 feet of her. She is a petite woman with a giant presence. Patients loved her.
    So, what happened, you ask. Carmen, an artist, wanted to give our organization a painting to put over a bare wall in the lobby. One of our managers told her to “paint whatever you want, I’m sure it will be beautiful.”
    So, Carmen painted a lovely abstract depicting a family gathered around a bedside. It had bright colors, and gentle tones. It was a modern take on old fashioned love. It was Carmen.
    She brought it in one day when I was not there, not that I could have prevented the hurt that followed, but I like to think I might have made it better somehow. It’s a control thing, I know. Another manager saw Carmen’s painting and deemed it “inappropriate” and told Carmen that we could not possibly hang it in our lobby. I do not think the manager was cold or dismissive, but Carmen was hurt. She took it well, I’m told but went home, talked it over with Jose and called to quit.
    Now here’s the problem as I see it. We gave her permission to paint whatever she wanted. In good faith, she accepted the free hand she was given. We set her up, not maliciously, but irresponsibly and for a sensitive soul like Carmen, the rebuff was hurtful.
    She tells me that she will be back one day and I believe her. After all, how can you stay away from something you are so incredibly good at? When she does return, everyone will be glad to see her and it will be business as usual.
    But, right now, with Carmen gone, I think about all the patients who are not being helped by her. All over a flippant directive and a thoughtless reaction.
    I wish I could paint. I’d paint Carmen back into our picture.
    -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

  • Am I Nuts, Cause I’ll Put Up With Anything

    clingingMelissa is a volunteer coordinator at a large hospital where she manages a great number of volunteers. She is responsible for filling many positions, including the receptionist volunteers who greet family members in a trauma waiting area. It is an important volunteer assignment and she is required to keep the shifts filled. She has this volunteer, Irma, who has been coming in for one shift the past 5 years. Irma is prompt, reliable, a stalwart. The day after Irma’s shift however, Irma calls Melissa to complain about the lack of brochures, the semi-clean bathrooms, the lazy security guard, the tired reception room furniture, the poor advertizing, the rude staff, the incompetent management and the uncomfortable chair. Irma chews Melissa’s ear for twenty minutes with a list of things that need to be fixed and finishes off by threatening to quit.
    Melissa listens patiently and then does her best to not only fix every little thing, but she also fawns over Irma. Is Melissa nuts?

    Joan has a hospice volunteer, Sig, who, she calls upon occasionally. Sig gives Joan a hard time when she calls him. She steels herself for the excuses, the sighs, the checking schedules four and five times, the twenty questions and the coaxing. Sometimes Sig refuses and sometimes he accepts. Joan thanks him profusely, and calls him the day after his assignment and listens again while he comes up with the reasons he shouldn’t have gone. Joan empathizes, comforts and promises him that the next time will be better. Is Joan insane?

    Mark is a volunteer coordinator for an organization that serves at risk youth. His volunteers make home visits to assess the program’s progress. He has this one volunteer, Henrietta, who is a drama sponge. She sits in Mark’s office for an hour, watching him scramble to get jobs done, peppering her latest life crisis between his phone calls and paperwork. Mark listens patiently, assuring Henrietta that she’s “not bothering” him. He listens intently, concentrating on her needs while she’s there, empathizing with her chaotic life. Later, he may have to stay an extra half hour to catch up. Is Mark crazy?

    We all have these kinds of volunteers. Are Melissa, Joan and Mark super-dedicated or are they just plain dumb? Why would they encourage these behaviors? Well, here are the reasons.
    Irma works on Sunday.
    Sig will go out in the evening.
    Henrietta goes into a neighborhood that no one else will go into.

    It’s ironic how our behavior changes, and needs to change with each and every volunteer and each and every assignment. We all have experienced the volunteer request that is nearly impossible to fill and when we do fill it, we’ll cling to that volunteer like a falling animal to a branch. Suddenly, behavior that we might not tolerate in others becomes, well, not so bad. And when that volunteer becomes ill or has to take some time off, we feel, (if we are completely honest) much more devastated for ourselves because we know how hard it will be to replace them.
    Volunteer managers are by nature very mutable. It is our job to keep positions filled, to keep volunteers happy and retained, to put the right person in the right job. Sometimes, there is only one person for a job and when that occurs, our survival instincts kick in.
    So, the next time you have this nagging little voice asking you why you put up with certain behaviors from certain volunteers, just think of your fingers starting to ache as you cling to that branch hundreds of feet above the canyon of NO VOLUNTEER REPLACEMENT. Then, ignore that voice and Hang On!
    -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

  • Lisa is Livid

    thCAF16JSLLisa, a volunteer manager for a large museum is livid. See, she recruited this really great volunteer, Jarrell, over a year ago. Jarrell happens to be a business owner in the community who heard Lisa speak at a Rotary luncheon. He approached her and offered to create an awareness event to help showcase the museum in the business community. Lisa jumped at the chance and so together, Jarrell and Lisa, along with several of Jarrell’s associates, created a modest sidewalk event showcasing the museum’s exhibits, events and community partnerships. The awareness day was a success; new members joined, the feedback from the community was positive and Jarrell was very pleased. He said he would be glad to make it a yearly event and Lisa could see the growth possibilities. She was excited that she had brought in not only a creative new venue, but also the potential for several new highly connected volunteers.

    As the planning began for this year’s event, Jarrell had some ideas for ways to expand and improve, ideas that ultimately had to be discussed with the marketing manager. The marketing manager, Cheryl is new and was hired after the last awareness event. Lisa contacted Cheryl and asked for a meeting with Jarrell. Cheryl dragged her feet. Lisa stopped in to see Cheryl, explaining that Jarrell was a volunteer willing to put everything together, but that he just needed a go-ahead to proceed. It wouldn’t take but just a few minutes, Lisa reasoned. Cheryl said she would get back to Lisa. Lisa met with Jarrell, explaining that she was waiting on marketing for direction and that the marketing person was new and trying to get up to speed. Lisa tried several times to set up a meeting with Cheryl and Cheryl countered with, “well, maybe we need to push the event back. I’m pretty swamped with other things right now.” In a panic, Lisa enlisted her boss, who went to Cheryl’s boss who promised to speak with Cheryl.

    One morning, Lisa opened her email to find Jarrell’s message. He said that he was extremely busy at work and really couldn’t spend the time needed to make this year’s event work. He penned that too much time had elapsed and that they should have gotten started earlier. Lisa instinctively knew his cryptic statement was an indictment of marketing’s dismissive behavior. Lisa was crushed and angry. But she calmly replied and assured Jarell that she supported his decision. As she tapped the send button, she knew this was the end, the way volunteer managers just know. Jarrell was swallowed up by marketing arrogance.

    Volunteer retention is everyone’s responsibility. Volunteer managers know only too well that, when other staff members take volunteers for granted, dismiss volunteers’ busy and important lives or do not take them seriously, it begets the retention axe. It’s painful to know we can’t control everyone and everything and occasionally, our hard work is negated by other staff who have no interest in cultivating volunteers. (that is, until they need one)

    Lisa feels beaten and her creative enthusiasm has been badly bruised. She is not going to work outside of the box for a while. She would however, like to scream because two days after she emailed Jarrell, she received a voicemail from Cheryl. “I can meet with you and your volunteer next Tuesday about your, what was that little event again, the shareness? Anyway, give me a call.”

    -Meridian

  • Don’t Quit! I Might Have a Relapse!

    relapse pictureI have a long distance friend, Marla who is a volunteer coordinator for a large hospice organization.  She called me a while back and we chatted about one of her fellow volunteer coordinators, Amy. See, Marla fills in for Amy when she is on vacation and vice versa. They each manage about 80 volunteers in their respective areas. We all know that adding another full load, even for a week, is exhausting, but having to fit within another coordinator’s style can sometimes be, well, frustrating.

    Marla and Amy had back to back vacations, Amy first. Here’s what Marla told me happened.

    “I stopped in everyday to check on the volunteers,” Marla said. “And each day was the same story. The volunteers welcomed me, but with phrases like, ‘it’s so good to see Amy get some much-needed rest, she is so stressed out,’ or ‘we are worried about Amy, she’s works so hard and then she has to worry about her ailing mother and her sister doesn’t help out at all.’” Marla barked a laugh. “Ha, Amy doesn’t have a bigger load than anyone here, and sometimes I have a harder time finding volunteers, given my location. It’s frustrating.”

    Marla sighed, and covered the mouthpiece. “oh, and get this! One of the volunteers even said to me, ‘you know, I was going to retire, but I just can’t let Amy down. She has a stress related condition and she’s got so much to worry about with her son struggling financially.’”

    I could hear Marla chewing her pencil. “Amy has mentioned that she has had some medical issues in the past, but jeez, never once did the volunteers ask about me or my volunteers or anything else for that matter. They seemed to be a little, I hate to say it, cult-like.”

    Well. What an interesting management style. Marla continued, “you know, it was on the tip of my tongue to say something like, ‘hey, we’re all busy and Amy is just playing you to make you stay.” Then she chuckled. “Maybe we all should use that on our volunteers. If you quit, you’ll put me in the hospital!”

    Are volunteers more impressionable than paid staff? Maybe. I suppose it depends upon their reasons for volunteering and their personalities. Is it wrong to manipulate them? Of course. Volunteers should not know much about our personal lives, and certainly, not all that is going wrong or perceived to go wrong. As volunteer managers, our boundaries need to be pretty clearly defined.

    “Oh, and get this!” Marla added. “I went on vacation, thank goodness after covering for Amy and she then covered for me. I worked really hard on making sure that all volunteers were in place, all information up to date, so that it wouldn’t be hard for her to manage while I was gone.” Marla paused. “so, I get back on Monday and when I checked in with the very first volunteer, guess what she said?”

    “Welcome back?” I offered.

    “No, she did say they missed me, but she also said that Amy seemed overwhelmed by the additional work and they had to work a little extra to help her.”

    “Then,” Marla dropped the punchline, “MY volunteer asked me, ‘Did you know Amy has a stress related condition’?”

    Hmmmmm. When retention becomes a problem, I may have to try the Amy management style!

    -Meridian