volunteerplaintalk

Volunteer Plain Talk

for today’s leaders of volunteers

  • Twenty Years Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    thank you Gertie.

    -Meridian

  • The Curse

    If you follow baseball at all, you probably have heard of the Chicago Cubs curse. In 1945, the owner of the Billy Goat Tavern was asked to leave Wrigley Field because his goat was offending the fellow patrons. He left, but not before supposedly putting a curse on the Cubs, which of course is why they will never win a World Series.

    I’m wondering if someone, somewhere put a curse on volunteers who win awards. I can see it now, back in 1666, a local physician, being given an award in London for volunteering to help with the great plague, walking up on a makeshift stage while the crowd cheered. A nobleman in the crowd, astride his horse, was asked to leave because the horse, well, frankly, kept defecating in the crowd. Incensed, the nobleman left, but as he rode away, he yelled, “Any volunteer who wins an award shall heretofore be cursed!”

    A friend of mine, who is a volunteer coordinator just recently told me the story of one of her volunteers who just won a very prestigious community award. The celebration was long and happy, and the organization, who normally did not win awards was very pleased. Within a month, this volunteer not only imploded, she created a legal situation for her organization. Within a month? Strong curse!

    Maybe awards go to the volunteers’ heads. Maybe we choose the volunteers who are already on the path to self destruction, but it is an eerily repeating scenario. What is truly ironic is that we often award volunteers who cross boundaries. Those who go “above and beyond” are the ones we choose because their stories are compelling and why kid ourselves? The volunteers that play strictly be the rules don’t win the awards.
    My fantasy is that there would be an award titled: He who does not stray from the rules. How incredibly boring that would be! The fine line between a great volunteer and a great volunteer that over steps is too narrow for even a Flying Wallenda to cross.

    So, here’s to those volunteers who win. Be happy, but careful, because that curse may just get you

    -Meridian

  • Happy Volunteer Appreciation Week Ben!

    It’s volunteer appreciation week and there are all sorts of festivities going on. The volunteers are so gracious about being thanked; it’s a love fest!

    There’s a volunteer, Ben whom I just love. He’s an old union steward, grouchy, snarly and full of Ben-isms. Whenever he sees me coming, he screws up his face and asks, “Oh! what brings you down from your lofty office?”

    When I answer in my most sweetest voice, “to see you Ben, of course,” he follows up with “probably on your way to another pointless meeting.”

    I love sparring with Ben. He comes to do the job, take jabs at me, and then goes home. He’s prompt, hard working and funny as all get out.

    Yesterday he made a comment about how easy my job was. “Really?” I said, my inner hackles up. “what makes you think it’s easy?”

    “C’mon,” he sneered. “you tell people where to be and then you go have coffee.”

    Hmmm, that does sound a bit like my job.

    I said, “Ben, how many different managerial styles are there when it comes to volunteers?” I know how much he detests management and mumbo jumbo about styles.

    “One. show up!”

    “Ok,” I said, ready to play the game. ” how about Jerri? Do I use the same style with Jerri that I use with you?” Jerri is an elderly lady that volunteers at the same time Ben does.

    “Well yeah!”

    “She wouldn’t come back if I talked to her the way I talk to you.”

    He shifted. “Ok, well, that’s just her.”

    “Well, what works for her might not work for you, or the next volunteer. We don’t have pay hanging over their heads. We have to actually be engaged with volunteers.”

    Ben looked at me hard. I had stopped playing the game in his mind. “I gotta go, my times up.” He went for his jacket. “You go back to your meetings now, don’t let me stop you.”

    “I will. And Ben? Happy Volunteer Appreciation Week.”

    “Load of crap.” he said as he left.

    I love you Ben.

    _Meridian

     

  • What Do You REALLY Want?

    I have this wonderful volunteer, Magda, who has all sorts of life experiences, college training and has lived in many interesting places. She has dabbled in mysticism, spiritualism and healing. She is fascinating to listen to and a pleasure to be around. Every time she comes in, I carve out some much needed time to sit and talk with her. She not only gives me a break, she makes me think.

    I asked her one day about some of the group exercizes she has participated in, thinking that I might be able to adopt some into volunteer orientation. The volunteers always seem to get a lot out of groups, and it gives them a chance to participate and explore.

    Magda thought about it and then offered an exercise she felt was enlightening. It goes like this: Two people sit facing each other. They take turns asking the question, “what do you really want” over and over again. The question becomes the nudge into helping people discover their inner hopes and desires.

    Thinking this might be something worthwhile for volunteers, I asked if we might try it. Madga went first. I asked her the question and she talked about peace and serenity. I asked it again and she talked about her place in the world. I asked again and she elaborated on her life and her inner desires. It was wonderful.

    My turn came next. She looked at me squarely and said, “what do you really want?” At that moment, instead of voicing all the wonderful things I wanted to say or thought I should say, my mind shut like the hatch of a nuclear submarine. Nothing came out. I looked at her blankly, so she gently asked again, “what do you really want?”

    Images flooded into my head. World peace? A hot shower? A bowl of Cheerios? I couldn’t think of a thing I wanted. Magda, sensing my frustration, said, “just start small, like a candy bar, or a sip of lemonade.” Again, my mind closed. “I can’t,” I whispered, horrified that I just proved there is something really wrong with me.

    Thankfully, she laughed. “Your reaction is not that unusual,” she said. “It mostly happens to people in helping professions. They’re so busy that they never stop to think about what it is they personally want, because they are too concerned with what others want and need.”

    That made me feel much better and got me to thinking about volunteer managers. We have to be concerned with the wants and needs of clients, other staff, administration and all of our volunteers. We juggle these wants and needs continually, listening closely to volunteer stories, soothing hurt feelings, and probing for motivations. We are on heightened alert at all times. It’s no wonder that we would fail this exercise. It’s not that we don’t know what we want, it’s that we don’t have time to explore it and so, when forced to think about it, our minds just shut down.

    Are we important? No, I mean, do we count as individuals, not just as helpers? Volunteer managers can run the risk of losing themselves in the job. If that happens, we’ll be lousy at all the fun group games. I’m going to guess that you, just like I want to participate once in a while.

    So, go look into a mirror and ask yourself this question, “What do I REALLY want?” Don’t leave until you get an answer.

    -Meridian

  • Now That’s Why I Love Orientation

    The other evening, a new group of volunteers finished orientation. We meet for 6 evenings, for about 3 to 4 hours each time. It is a lot to ask of new volunteers, but the idea is to give them enough “up front” time to experience the message, get comfortable, ask questions, form some bonds with each other and become enthused. It also doesn’t hurt that the trainer can observe each volunteer closely and get a sense of where that new person will fit.

    In my area, hospice, we focus a great deal of time on listening skills, the ability to hear patients and families without judgement and the ways to really be present with people who need the emotional support. We do multiple group exercises on listening, judging and support.

    It was graduation night and we were getting close to the end. There is the usual buzz of excitement that “I’ve gotten through it” to “I can’t believe it’s over” going on in the room as I produced the orientation certificates. It always surprises me that the new volunteers tell me they wish orientation could go on longer and that they will miss it. But when you think about it, this is their “fitting” if you will for a job they chose and they want the best fitting uniform and the right tools. They want to be prepared.

    As I was readying the certificates, I flippantly said, ‘if I could sing, I’d sing the graduation anthem to you.” They all laughed and one of the 18 shouted out, “well, can you dance, then?”

    “Can I dance?” I have a running joke at work that I can dance the River Dance, which of course, I can do nothing of the sort. “I can River Dance,” I offered slyly.

    “Oh, wow, do it, please, do it” everyone cheered. “Ok, I’ve been taking lessons for years,” I added and headed for the middle of the room. I’ve learned over the years that you have to break the seriousness of the subject with self deprecating humor at times. Some days I fall flat on my face and other days I find the right mix of releasing laughter and staying on point.

    I stood in the center of the room. All faces eagerly watched to see the beautiful movements known as River Dancing. I thrust my arms to my sides and looked up. Then I started a wild, insane whirl of feet and crooked legs. Now, normally when I do this for someone new, it takes less than two seconds for them to catch on that I’m not only a rotten dancer and liar, but nuts as well.

    However, this evening, as I whirled around idiotically, there was no perceptible recognition of the insanity.  All eyes were riveted politely and as I ran completely out of breath and had to stop, the group broke into thunderous applause. I was dumbfounded! I looked at them, so sincere and I just started laughing. “It’s a joke,” I managed through my laughs.

    “Oh!oh! ooooooooohhhhh!” they all said and started to laugh and comment how horrible it was and how they weren’t sure what I was doing. Then one volunteer offered, “we were being non-judgemental, just like you taught us”

    Ahhh. I laughed all the way home from class. Bless them for applying their studies to a fool like me. Bless them for their humor and bless them for not thinking they had made a mistake by coming here. They will be great volunteers.

    I told them that in their honor, the River Dance will be part of the final exam. They enjoyed that and I sincerely hope that they got something really lasting out of class. I know I did.

    -Meridian

  • A Life of Its Own

    Last night I slipped into my chair at a committee gathering. This is a committee I started over four years ago and have been active in ever since. The first four years were hard and I have spent hours on the projects this committee oversees. Every member of this committee has put in sweat, ideas and love for the outcomes. It is without a doubt, the best committee I have ever been involved with. We spend our time enjoying each other’s company while we plan hard.

    We’ve been on hiatus for about three months. Truth be told, in December, we collectively kicked around the idea of disbanding because the amount of work we do is enormous. After four years, we were just plain weary. But last month, I started getting calls from the members. “Are we going to meet again?” “Have we decided to scrap the committee, because I might be ready to give it one more shot.”

    And so we met. As I slipped into my seat, I looked around at everyone who came back again. Only one person was missing. We even had someone return who had been battling a terrible illness and we added two new members. It was a big and raucous group. The meeting lasted four hours. Now, normally, meetings lasting more than 59 minutes are painful, but not this one. We laughed, reviewed and got excited again. Everyone brought fresh and outstanding ideas.

    For the first time since the formation, I did not say much. I took the minutes, nodded and put in a few comments, but mostly I listened while I soaked in the enthusiasm.

    And you know what? Never once did I feel overshadowed or ignored. I watched the group play off one another, picking up cues from each offered idea to go further, to get more creative. And basking in the loud chatter, I felt good, really, really good.

    To me, the purpose of creating committees to oversee projects or events is to find those who genuinely believe in the work, those who will bring their creative chops and revel in the outcome. It doesn’t hurt to like or respect each other either.

    This group is all of that and a cherry on top. Honestly, I like the feeling that I could quietly slip away and they would continue on beautifully. It’s not mine anymore and it probably never was. It has a life of its own.

    -Meridian

  • Nikki the Wonder Dog

    I was visiting my friend the other day. She has done well for herself, divorced, hard-working, just bought a nice 3 bedroom home at a good price. She moved from a place that had a small yard to a sizeable back yard for Nikki, her Chow mix. Nikki, who wiggles when you pet her is in heaven.

    Nikki and I go way back. I was managing a thrift store about ten years ago. In spite of the tremendous amount of physical work, it was a great deal of fun. The volunteers were “pitch in” types, but with wicked senses of humor, especially when opening mysterious bags or boxes of donated items. I could always hear their howls of laughter up at the register.

    The thrift store was located next to an apartment building that was a pay by the week set up. There were a number of transient folks living there and many of them used our merchandize as their primary source of shopping. Quite a number of day laborers lived there and if one of them would help move a sofa, he got some free jeans or a toaster. It worked for all of us.

    One young man, Carl, came frequently. He was only 19 and struggling to make ends meet. He had a girlfriend that he was planning to marry if he could just get a stable job. He worked hard, and I really appreciated his help. We talked a bit, as much as a 19-year-old male will allow and I started to care about what happened to him.

    One day Carl asked me to come outside. He wanted to ask me something. I turned the register over to a volunteer and followed him into the bright sunlight. There, hooked to a railing was this young golden fur ball with a black muzzle and a black tongue that showed when she smiled.

    “I’m leaving,” Carl told me. He had heard about a job in another state. He and his girlfriend were leaving that afternoon. “I want you to take Nikki” he simply added.

    He wanted to leave before he cried so he quickly handed me her leash and disappeared. Nikki wagged her tail. She was young, maybe six or eight months old. As I stood there, all I could think was, “my husband’s going to kill me.” We already had one dog and three cats. What would I do with another one?

    One the way home, Nikki jumping around in the back seat, I tried to formulate a plan. I would post her picture at headquarters, and get people networking to find Nikki a home. I started to feel better as I pulled into the driveway. It would work out, I told myself.

    As Nikki settled in that evening, I called my friend and told her Nikki’s story. She came over out of curiosity to see the live item I had brought home from the shop. As she stepped into the living room, Nikki got up and ran to her, wiggling and bouncing happily. It was love at first sight.

    I didn’t need the flyers, I didn’t need to network, I didn’t need to do a darn thing. It really did work out. Nikki is now 10 and I see her all the time. She is the happy queen of her domain, with a cat and a parakeet for company. And now she has the big yard to chase squirrels and birds and the occasional prowling cat.

    I often wonder what happened to Carl. I wish he could see that Nikki got a great home, is loved and cared for in the way he had hoped as he handed me that leash so long ago. You did the right thing, Carl, although we didn’t know it at the time. All we had at that moment was shared hope and a wonder dog named Nikki.

    -Meridian

     

     

     

  • Proceed Until Apprehended

    I just finished creating a new voice mail message, one that replaces the really nice one I have on my phone line now. The new message sounds like this:  “Thank you for calling the volunteer department. I am currently on the phone or assisting other volunteers. Your concerns and questions are very important and I will return your call in the order in which it was received. Current wait time expected is between 2 days and 3 weeks.”

    No, I didn’t really change my voice mail message but sometimes I think it might be the wisest thing to do. When a volunteer calls (or stops in) and wants to discuss a problem, concern, idea or suggestion, it often requires the input or permission of someone either higher up or in another department to enact change. While the volunteer waits on the volunteer manager to solve or answer, the volunteer manager waits on other staff to give a go-ahead. This can literally take weeks. It may be because everyone is afraid to make a decision, or the suggestion doesn’t seem as important as everything else on the plate. No matter the reason, there is a time warp when it comes to volunteer needs. If management wants the volunteer department to create something, they want it post-haste. But when the volunteers want to create a great project, it sits on the pile of things to consider, often languishing for weeks.

    I’ve had a number of volunteers come up with really innovative ideas. I’ve had volunteers wait, get frustrated and then fade away. Sadly, the clients and the organization suffers. Right now I have this really dynamic volunteer who wants to create and run with an idea she deems awesome. She has the expertise to run the project. She has the backup man-power. She has the time to do it and she believes in it. So, what’s the problem?

    Organizations can run like bloated larva inching across road. We can be bloated with committees and oversights and liabilities that truly cripple creative thought. We may all be afraid to take a chance, yet when we see news of some organization winning an award for an innovative idea, we all look around and say, “why don’t we do that?” It’s a vicious cycle, one in which the volunteers cannot understand what takes us so long to make a determination. They shake their heads and walk away in frustration.

    I’ve noticed over the years that the successful projects are the ones I don’t tell anyone about until they are up and running. I encourage the volunteers to do a pilot project and we work out the bugs together. When I present the already running project to upper management, I get a “good job.” If a project doesn’t work out, we can contain any damage because we’ve started small.

    You have to give your volunteers credit, not free rein. You have to give yourself credit too. If you oversee the beginnings of a great idea, you can manage that idea so that it works within the parameters of your organization. Showing people a well thought out, proven project works better than pitching an idea. Ideas are shadowy things, full of pitfalls and danger. There’s a great deal of work you will do in the beginning, but if you believe in the outcome, the rewards will far outweigh the initial work involved making sure it runs properly.

    I’m going to tell this volunteer to run with her idea, but in a very controlled and confined space. With success, we can present it to the powers that be and if history serves me correctly, we should be ok.

    Yes, the motto is proceed until apprehended, but you know as well as anyone what your volunteers are capable of accomplishing. Rely on their desire to do what is right for your clients and proceed, cautiously, but with the conviction that you will succeed.

    _Meridian

  • I’m Keeping This For Myself

    At my hospice, we have a group of seamstresses that make teddy bears for bereaved people. The bereaved person brings in an article of clothing from their loved one who has died and the ladies make that shirt or robe into a bear. The bears have beautiful eyes that look soulfully at you and their bodies bring life to a favorite polo shirt or t-shirt from that trip to Cancun. I’ve been privileged to witness tearful people gasp as they receive their bears, some with the polo shirt logos on the breast, some with details sewn into paws or on collars.

    Just recently, we agreed to do several bears for a very young woman who tragically lost her husband. She gave explicit directions as to how she wanted her bears made and we gave them to a very accomplished seamstress. The bears, however came back made incorrectly because the volunteer misread the directions. I spoke with this young woman who tearfully said that it was all right, she would take the bears anyway. I told her no, we wanted to make good on what she requested but that I was so sorry, it would take a bit longer. She told me “that’s ok, it doesn’t really matter.”

    I’m guessing you, like me, when hearing the words, “it doesn’t matter” realize instinctively that it matters very much. In those words you hear frustration, weariness and deep, deep pain. At that moment, if I had to learn to sew, we were going to make good on those bears.

    I talked to her many times since. Each time, I called her and updated her on the progress of the bears. It was hard to find someone who could undo what was done and then do it correctly. After all, the shirts that were given to us could not be replaced, so everything had to be taken apart and redone to her original request.

    Every time I talked to her to give her updates, she would hold her sorrow in and then start to cry as we discussed the shirts from her husband. I wanted to keep her updated at every step, because frankly, she had been through enough already and did not need additional heartache.

    It took two months to find the right seamstress from those who looked the project over, get the work done and get the bears back to me. But we did it, thanks to a very patient. understanding volunteer. I made the call that the bears were finished, leaving a message on her machine that the bears would be at one of our offices for her to pick up.

    The next day, I retrieved my voice mail messages and came upon one from this young woman. She had gone to the office and picked up her bears. Her message was long and full of tears as she expressed her joy and gratitude at receiving her beautiful bears. She cried unabashedly on the message, telling me that no words could express her joy at having these bears and that the volunteers who made them were angels. I could hear the relief mixed with happiness mixed with the sorrow of years ahead coping with this tragedy.

    I know from the emotions expressed that this young woman will never forget the kindness of our volunteers. I can share this message with these selfless seamstresses so that they can hear firsthand the impact of their volunteering.

    But you know what? I’m keeping this message for myself too. When days are long and it seems as though nothing is going right, I’m going to play that message for my soul. And after hearing her raw gratitude, I’m going to keep going.

    -Meridian

  • Sometimes It’s Not Good

    I had a lady come in the other day wanting to volunteer. I asked her to sit down and the first thing she said was, “I have to keep busy, I just have to get out and do something.”

    Ok, let’s take a deep breath here and find out why you have to get out and keep busy. Our vulnerable patients or clients should not be the steps on which you climb to your happiness. I asked her one question and it was like opening the top of a shaken coke as she told me about her situation and why she so badly needs to join us. It turns out that her husband is in a nursing home, is declining and the staff at the nursing home told her to go volunteer, it would be good for her. (Maybe they are getting weary, I don’t know).

    She told me that she was at his side four and five days a week. Based on her experience with her husband, she thought she could do some good for someone in a similar situation. She looked exhausted, emotionally and physically. She appeared fragile, and her emotions welled up during her pitch.

    I asked her if she had tried volunteering at something completely different from her situation, trying gently to explain that spending her free time with people who  reminded her of her husband would be burdensome. I asked her about volunteering in schools or with animals.

    She said she had tried other volunteering but it wasn’t “it”, didn’t help, and made her feel depressed. Upon further questioning, she said she volunteered with an animal shelter, but her job was to take the puppies to local nursing homes. She also volunteered for meals on wheels, taking meals to elderly shut ins. That made her feel horrible.

    I took a chance and asked her if she saw a pattern in her past volunteering and her desire to help critically ill patients. She thought for a moment and said, “yes, I think I see what you mean. I’m doing the things that remind me of my husband’s condition.”

    We parted with an invitation to come back sometime in the distant future. If experience serves me correctly, she will probably never come back, or do so many years after her husband dies. I could be way off on this one, but hey, it’s a guess.

    It bothers me when people advise others who are going through some rough patches to “keep busy by volunteering” for the organization they are currently being helped by. Well intentioned people need to realize, not only does the person volunteering risk magnifying their situation, but they risk using other clients as cry towels or mood boosters. It’s not fair to anyone in these situations, not even the poor volunteer manager who has to sort it all out and keep real harm from happening.

    Yes, volunteering is good for you, but not when it’s only a salve for a wound. The wound needs to heal properly or that volunteer will bleed all over the clients.

    -Meridian