volunteerplaintalk

Category: volunteer retention

Projectile Volunvomiting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perceived Inaction=Grievance. Action=Cooperation.

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

-Meridian

April 1, 2015
Dieting, Models and Volunteering?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

March 25, 2015
If a Butterfly Flaps Its Wings in Brazil, Will Jeremy Volunteer?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

March 4, 2015
Well, It Sounds So Wonderful

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

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

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

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

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

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

February 18, 2015
What’s Over Our Volunteers’ Shoulders?

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

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

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

February 4, 2015
Do Volunteers Have Privacy? Naaah!

Do volunteers have a right to privacy? While we’re on the subject, how much privacy do we, employees have? What can employers divulge about us and what should we divulge about our volunteers?

I guess we can all run to our legal departments and get an official statement but what is our real policy? For an example, a couple of months ago, I was approached by a senior manager and the following conversation took place.

SM: Hi, I just needed to ask you a question. Do you have a volunteer by the name of Abigail Drake?
Me: Yes, Abigail is one of our volunteers.
SM: Oh, ok, I need to talk to you about her.
Me: Please, sit down and let’s talk.
SM: Well, yesterday, they sent me a call from a woman who said she was Abigail’s neighbor.
Me: Oh? Is Abigail all right?
SM: That’s not it. The neighbor said, I don’t know how to put this, but the neighbor wanted us to know something about Abigail.
Me: (eyebrows raised) And what might that be?
SM: She said that Abigail has been on medication for severe depression for years and the neighbor feels like Abigail might come off the medication in the near future, which would make her a risky volunteer.

(Are you sensing something very wrong right now?)

Me: I see.
SM: You’re not going to let her volunteer are you?
Me: Well actually, yes, I am.
SM: But the neighbor assured me that Abigail is a risk. We probably need to talk to her.
Me: Abigail has been through every one of our requirements to become a volunteer. She has passed all of her background screenings.
SM: But what about her severe depression?

(Ok, I have to admit, at this point I was flabbergasted that a Senior Manager would be so naive)

Me: All I can do is treat Abigail just like I treat every other volunteer. If for some reason she shows signs of risky behavior, we will address it promptly, I can assure you. But I have to say, I never discuss our volunteers with anyone.
SM: Hmmm. I did tell the neighbor that we would take her comments under advisement and that I would speak to you. She said she knows you.

Me: (eyebrows raised even further because here’s the part that gets bizarre and I swear it’s true) Oh, really?
SM: Yes, she said her name was Laura Cramer or Kranmore…
Me: Laura Cramer?
SM: Yes, you know her?
Me: She was a volunteer with us a long time ago and we had to dismiss her.
SM: Oh?
Me: Yes, it did not go well and I believe she has harbored a grudge ever since.

Just the name Laura Cramer stops me like a hockey forecheck. Her dismissal was ugly and it is never pleasant to remember.

The senior manager left and I’m guessing forgot about the whole thing fairly quickly. It bothered me though, that an intelligent representative of the organization would chat about the private life of one of our volunteers with an unknown voice on the phone. I started wondering: If a neighbor of mine decided to call in and say I beat my dog or had a drinking problem, would someone discuss that with a total stranger?
I’ve been called by folks looking for a volunteer’s phone number or address, mainly because they want to thank them. But I protect the volunteers like a mother black bear hearing the snap of a twig. “If you give me permission,” I say to them, “I will pass your number along to the volunteer in question. Or you can send a card here and I will personally deliver it to our volunteer.” And fortunately, people are always understanding and grateful that our volunteers’ private lives are protected.

Frankly, I don’t care about the legality of volunteers’ privacy. When I volunteer somewhere, I want to know that my personal information is kept locked up tight and that I matter. And when it comes to volunteers, we, volunteer managers, should lead the way in all HR management by doing better than what is required by law and regulations.
We might even want to teach all staff in our organizations to protect our volunteers as well.
-Meridian

January 28, 2015
Volunteers Leading the Way

“No,” I almost shouted, “you cannot volunteer in that area without proper orientation and training!” I stood, hands on hips picturing this person in front of me as no more than a child. “Why, you ask? Because it’s a requirement, that’s why.” I said in my best Mom authority voice. My hands trembled slightly. I did not care that this person said they had spent 30 years in management. I did not care that they had jumped through all of our other hoops, because what good is a volunteer who won’t listen? I plugged my ears to their simple questions. “I’m sorry, but you either come to the next training, or we can’t use you anymore.” The echo of my footsteps down the tiled floor bounced off the serene artwork on the walls. “I don’t have time for this,” I muttered. “Volunteers need to just get with the program.”

No, this scene did not happen. Oh boy, I hope you didn’t think it did. But could it? Do we not box up our volunteers like overly taped goods on the way to China? We’ve added background checks, fingerprinting, drug testing and personality quizzes to ensure that crazies don’t wiggle in. We require training and signatures and photo IDs to prevent any “Lone rangers.” We vet and inspect and watch like hawks each one of our new volunteers. And the seasoned ones? Oh, I might have heard one mention something about religion or politics. RED FLAG! RED FLAG! Book the counseling room!

Since we’ve got it all in control, we can’t let in anyone who might pose a risk, not only legally but also to the assembly line of our volunteer base. Keep ’em in check or all sorts of mayhem might ensue. Yes, we require and require some more and require even more. But what we often do not require is innovative thinking, problem solving, fresh ideas, and good old gut instinct. No, those things are best left to the all-knowing people in power and they will cling to that power even as the ship goes down or is rendered out of commission. While start-ups thrive on new ideas, established non-profits may hold on tight to the ways things have always been done. And that usually involves a line between volunteers and innovation. When is the last time you saw a volunteer sit in on an executive planning meeting?

The other day I was talking to a group of our volunteers who work in one of the thrift stores. They had forged this great camaraderie with each other over the course of two years and they support one another through life’s challenges. One of them asked me to find the phone number of a new volunteer who just happened to train with them one afternoon. Although, this new volunteer, Hannah trained with them, she will be volunteering on another day with a newly put together team. “We want to call Hannah and invite her to one of our get-togethers,” they said. “We’d like to follow-up with her.”
“That’s so nice of you,” I said, “I’m sure she’d appreciate that.”
“Well,” they countered, “have you heard the story of how Hannah came to us?”
“No,” I admitted, “I didn’t.”
So they told me. It seems that Hannah was volunteering at another thrift shop for another organization. “Hannah was the right-hand girl for the shop manager. She volunteered three days a week,” they said. “But then, Hannah’s husband got sick and she had to stop for a time so that she could care for him. She said that during that time she never once heard anything from the shop or the organization. Nothing. No card, no call.” The team looked at each other and shook their heads. “When Hannah walked back into the store after her husband recovered, the shop manager said oh, you’re back, good. That’s when Hannah left.”
I have to admit, I was taken aback. I did not know that about Hannah. But the team went one step further. “We feel like she was treated poorly and we want to make sure that she feels welcomed and needed here. So, we’re going to make sure that happens.” One of the team looked me right in the eye and said, “it’s the right thing to do for volunteers, you know that.”

Not too long ago I was sitting and talking with a volunteer, Jim who I hadn’t seen for a while. He told me a story about visiting a nursing home patient. He said, “The director of the nursing home pleaded with me to come in on Saturday so that the patient would not be alone with a Saturday worker who made the patient uncomfortable. This worker reminded the patient of a man who had beaten and robbed him several years before. He would get really agitated when he saw this worker.” Jim shifted slightly. “For just a moment, I realized I should call in to see if that was ok, but then I knew: It was the right thing to do. I hope you don’t mind that I took that on myself.”

Mind? While organizations may see their journey as a straight line, volunteers tend to be able to swarm over wide swaths of terrain, finding and seeking the right thing to do. If we can just relax our holds on them, just a little, imagine all the territory we can cover.
-Meridian

January 21, 2015
Sloppy Slippery Slope

Who doesn’t hate being wrong? I certainly do, because it makes me, well, wrong. I hate being wrong about football picks, hate being wrong about that Sushi restaurant being open on Monday, and I hate being wrong about the dreamy guy that I recommended to fix my friend’s air conditioner. She’s still mad at me for that one. But what I hate most is being wrong about something I’ve done for so long that it should be part of my circulatory system.
Last week a volunteer manager, Garth, called me to ask for some advice. Garth and I go back a few years to a charity event where we occupied the same table in a frigid tent along with six other frozen event goers. It was cold, damp and thoroughly miserable, but we all exchanged business cards and kept in touch.
Garth manages a small museum and oversees maybe twenty regular volunteers. His volunteers are long-term, most having been there longer than he has. But occasionally, he will accept a student who needs school credit, especially if that student has an interest in history. So, Garth called and said he wanted to bounce something off someone who would understand.
Me: “Hi Garth, what’s going on?”
G: “Hey, good to talk to you, I have a slight problem and I was wondering what you think. I took on a high school student, Lizzie as a volunteer a few weeks back. Lizzie told me she needed to complete about 50 more hours for her scholarship application. She’s been coming in for a couple of weeks but now here’s the problem. Lizzie came in yesterday afternoon with a paper that I needed to sign for her hours. I looked the paper over and while it is a statement of completed hours, it’s not for a scholarship. Seems she got into trouble at their homecoming dance and she has to complete 50 hours for that. Now, there’s no court involved, it’s just the school requiring this.”
Me: “Hmmm, so she did not tell you this upfront?”
G: “No, I remember her saying scholarship. This is totally different.”
Me: “When is it due?”
G: “That’s the other kicker. It’s due tomorrow and I can’t seem to locate all the sign-in sheets for her, so I don’t think she completed 50 hours, or at least I can’t prove that right now.”

Now here’s where my brain opens up a whole can of stewed memories of volunteers who just needed a signature for court or school or whatever. We’ve all had them, the student who needs to do community service and sneers at you during training, the adult who openly lies about hours done “off the clock” to clear a charge and the parent whose child just sits there blankly while the parent extolls their offspring’s brilliance and dedication.

So I said…
Me: “Ah, that’s a shame, you have to give her credit for being creative.” ( this is where I snorted with lame, unhelpful laughter)
G: “I might refuse to sign it although I know she’s done hours, maybe not 50, and frankly, at this point, is it worth my time to deal with this anymore? Or I can just sign it, tell her to not darken this museum’s door anymore and be out of it. Lesson learned.”

Ahh, here we are. This is the vulnerable spot that some creative “volunteers” will poke because our hectic schedules force us to consider just signing off on whatever is required so that we don’t have to spend more of our valuable time fighting something not worth winning. And let’s be honest, sticking to our principles sometimes loses its luster against the magic eraser that will make a problem go away quickly.

So I said, “Garth, are you comfortable signing something you are unsure of?”
G: “No, I’m not, so I’m not going to sign the paper. I’m going to write on the paper that I can’t verify 50 hours at this time. That’s what I’ll do.”

At this point, I have to admit, I jumped to conclusions. Based on Garth’s recollection, I just assumed that Lizzie was trying to put one over on Garth. I had never met Lizzie, I didn’t know the situation and yet I thought I knew exactly what had happened. I realized that when you’ve been burned, you can either choose to heal or choose to look at that spot every time you come near fire. I called Garth the next day.
Me: “How did it go with Lizzie?”
G: “Well, funny thing. Not only did she remind me that she did tell me about the school ordered hours, we found the sign in sheets that proved she was here for 45 hours. She promised to do five hours this weekend and I signed the papers. So, when I called you yesterday, I was completely wrong.”

Just as it may be easier to sign off on undocumented hours than try to prove them, it is sometimes easier to assume that a volunteer is not telling the truth when confronted with conflicting evidence. But in both cases, it’s a slippery slope and we need to take the time to do the right thing, even though we are very busy. Like it or not, we are the examples our volunteers follow and if we expect them to act in a professional manner, then we had better show them the way.
Besides, being sloppy is worse than being wrong.
-Meridian

January 14, 2015
Clash of the Titans

For a very long time, volunteer manager Dina enjoyed this incredible on top of the world feeling. She ran a thriving charity shop which not only brought in money for her organization, but also became a symbol of successful volunteer involvement in her town. Other volunteer managers would visit Dina to watch in awe as the shop volunteers worked together to transform donated goods into revenue.
Each shift had a hand-picked volunteer team lead who oversaw the volunteers’ duties. This gave Dina the precious time to train new volunteers, advertize the shop and interact with customers and donors. On Tuesdays, the team lead, Herbert, a retired shoe store manager inspired his team to create beautiful displays and quickly get valuable items to the floor. On Thursdays, Helga, a social worker by trade encouraged her team to interact with the customers and make them feel welcome. Each day, a different team would bring a different flavor to their volunteering so savvy customers could choose favorite days and favorite volunteers.

One day, Herbert approached Dina and said that he could no longer work on Tuesdays. Because he loved volunteering in the shop, he asked to be moved to Thursdays as that was the only day he could come. Although Dina was disappointed, she figured it would be ok because one of the Tuesday volunteers, Cathy agreed to step up and take over the lead role.

The following week Herbert came in on Thursday. He had already assured Dina that he would fit in with his new team and respect Helga and her leadership. At first things went well. Helga continued to instruct her team to interact with customers and Herbert kept somewhat to himself while churning out the items to sell. Dina was pleased. Then, things began to change. Dina isn’t quite sure how or why it started, but she found herself in the middle of a clash.
“I honestly don’t know when things got to this point and frankly what does it matter who or what started it? All I know is the bickering and nitpicking between Herbert and Helga began after a few times together and got worse and worse each week. Each one of them would seek me out and corner me to complain about the other. Herbert would tell me that Helga’s team did not move enough merchandize and were always standing around talking and having fun instead of working. Helga would complain that Herbert would ignore customers and was rude to the members of her team.”
Dina said she patiently listened to each one and tried to convince them to work it out, but the complaining increased. “It became about the most mundane things, like Herbert parked too close to the shop and Helga would not acknowledge Herbert when he came to volunteer. It was so childish, so unnecessary and I was aghast that such talented and professional people could be so petty.”

Dina decided to have a sit down meeting with her two volunteers. “I thought we could clear the air. I knew that they both respected me and I planned to let each one speak and then I’d point out how we all wanted the same thing which is for the shop to succeed and then we’d shake and be done with it. But holy smokes, was I wrong! Once they started talking, they pointed out everything they felt was wrong with the other one. Helga complained that Herbert would frown when he saw her and complained that one day Herbert told a customer to put down a breakable vase. Herbert said that Helga spent too much time in the lunch room and brought in fattening cookies that he couldn’t eat. Helga said that there was no way she could work with Herbert any longer and she told me she would quit if he continued to come on Thursday. Herbert said that Helga was manipulating me and wanted to run the shop herself and demanded I fire her. Frankly, I looked at them both in a new light. What I thought were two wonderful, productive volunteers were now my biggest headache.”

Dina found herself in between two riled up combatants and she tried to deflect the hurled broad swords and war hammers. These two Titan volunteers, when faced with sharing the attention, control and inner circle chose to make each other an enemy instead of working together. Unfortunately, Dina’s hopeful spirit was injured by the flurry of thrown weapons. “I can’t respect either of them anymore.”
Dina said that Herbert quit in a huff and Helga smugly celebrated. “I’m not sure I want her here either after what I witnessed, but honestly, I’ve had enough change to last me for a long time.”

Dina left Helga to her Thursdays, but the warm feeling cooled a bit. “I made a mistake thinking that I could just expect good volunteers to be able to work well with one another. Obviously I should have thought this through more carefully. In looking back, I believe that having successful teams caused me to let my guard down. I won’t ever do that again.”

As volunteer managers we know that creating successful teams of volunteers is hard, hard work. But we also know that nurturing and maintaining those teams is even harder.
-Meridian

January 5, 2015
The Wheelwright vs. The Pioneer

On the door of Chief Executive Officer Cynthia Obsole’s office is a sign that says, “kind words can be short and easy to speak but their echoes are truly endless”. Her life is taken up by insular meetings; meetings with senior managers, meetings with donors and meetings with consultants. Her trusty right hand executive assistant, Miranda fetches the lattes, reminds her of her husband’s birthdays and stands in front of the door like an offensive left tackle on a Sunday afternoon. Ms. Obsole has years of non-profit leadership and is very pleased with the team that surrounds her. She is a pillar of the community, and the majority of senior managers vie to be the leader whose team does the most to further Ms. Obsole’s agendas.
For years she has run her non-profit with a central vision, one she had 30 years prior when she took over the mantel. She is an artisan, a person who, at home polishes her grandmother’s silver set.
Ms. Obsole is a non-profit wheelwright, a maker and repairman of wooden wagon wheels. Her non-profit is run like a craftsman’s shop from the turn of the last century. The product is just as beautiful as it was 30 years ago, but recently she hired a pioneer in the volunteer services department, Jess, a millennial, and recent college graduate who came to the organization trailing ideas she learned in classrooms full of youth. This volunteer coordinator, Jess wants to introduce some new concepts and fresh ideas.
Jess has successfully recruited her peers and a new brand type of volunteer, one that a pioneer recognizes as the future of volunteering.
Some of Jess’ recent recruits include:

Volunteer Doug who asks “why don’t we start an Instagram account? We can keep in touch with all the other volunteers and gain new recruits that way.”
Volunteer Keesha who wants her honor society to be involved but they are unable to volunteer except on weekends. “I’m sure you have some needs on weekends,” Keesha says, “that can be a time when your clients can be served or we can do upkeep on the building.”
Volunteer Maria who wants to volunteer with her twin six-year-old daughters. “I want them to learn about service at an early age,” she says, “while actually helping someone.”
Volunteer Travis who has a quirky fun idea for a fundraiser and can’t wait to try it out.
Volunteer Alshon who cannot do the brick and mortar volunteering but has a great desire to volunteer virtually.
Volunteer Kiera who is a speech major and would like to speak to campus groups. She wants to gain some experience in speech because she is studying political science and she believes in the mission.
Volunteer Zahn who has organized grass-roots movements and would like to stage a positive protest outside headquarters.
Jess has brought the ideas from these new volunteers to her superiors. She has argued that these innovations would not only enhance the work they are already doing, but would catapult their organization into a whole new realm.
Ms. Obesole, ever the craftsman, listens politely and says, “this is not how we do things, Jess, we are looking at all kinds of liability and risk here, not to mention how our managers are going to be able to rein in these volunteers. I’m not so sure this is a good idea.”
So Jess retreats and works on the wagon wheel along with all the other artisans and one day as she sitting at a recruitment table, a breath of wind stirs as the pioneer spirit breezes through her. She meets Jade, a 40 something marketing professional who is looking at the volunteer brochures. Jade captivates Jess with her explanation of brochures and how to arrange items so that people actually read the material. In Jade’s polished voice, Jess can see the landscape of uncharted territory opening before her. Excited, she obtains Jade’s information and makes an appointment to see Ms. Obesole.
Jess arrives, eager to share this prospective volunteer’s tantalizing offer to help the organization revamp outdated materials. Ms. Obesole listens politely and then pats Jess on the head, telling her that the volunteer’s offer is very sweet but “we have a team of marketers who know the mission so well. Let’s leave it up to them, shall we?” With that, Ms. Obesole returns to the wagon wheel and Jess goes back to her office, dejected, seeing her pioneering trip evaporate.
So Jess begins to look for another job and one day receives an offer with a start-up non-profit. Fortunately, Jess has kept the contacts she’s made while working for Ms. Obesole’s organization. She knows they will have a place with her in her new role.
And so, Jess dons her kerchief and hat and heads west.
Ms. Obesole? She continues to be a wheelwright until one day she looks around and says, “Where are all the wagons?”
-Meridian

December 17, 2014