volunteerplaintalk

Tag: burn out

  • #LoVols, Beware: It’s Zombification Season

    Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

    The night air is cold and your breath hangs, a web in the blackness. Your heart races, threatening to burst as something draws near, just over your shoulder. You close your eyes as it creeps behind you, opening its mouth to strike.

    But you’re exhausted from running, and maybe if you just stopped, blissful oblivion will take over. Maybe zombification isn’t so bad.

    A year like no other

    The challenges this year have exponentially added to the stressors from overwork, revamping volunteer programs, and onboarding an influx of new volunteers while retaining furloughed volunteers.

    Being zombified means through stressors, you’ve lost your vitality, your human essence. You’ve lost you. It’s a very real phenomena in everyday volunteer manager lives and especially now, with the added stressors.

    Stessors that zombify us

    • feeling underappreciated
    • feeling targeted
    • feeling like nothing ever changes
    • feeling like no one understands
    • feeling that it’s all for nothing
    • feeling like everyone is quick to criticize or give advice
    • feeling like everyday is the same
    • feeling like control is slipping away

    Zombification is just so….dead

    Zombified managers (and you’ve experienced one, right?) shuffle through the day, avoiding anything that takes energy because they have none to spare. When we, leaders of volunteers become zombified, what happens? (and trust me, I’ve become zombified at times, until a caring co-worker or volunteer bashed me in the head and work me up)

    • volunteers don’t get the inspiration they seek or are used to getting
    • difficult conversations with volunteers go unsaid and problems fester until they become full-blown
    • volunteer programs wither
    • the people we serve don’t receive the volunteer help that might have made all the difference to them
    • volunteers go elsewhere or fade away
    • potential is lost
    • and sadly, the joy a volunteer manager receives from being a volunteer manager dies

    The essence of being human is that one does not seek perfection

    George Orwell

    We are not perfect and these times are far from perfect. When things look bleak or never-ending, it’s understandable to want to curl up in a ball and mentally detach. We’re not immune to our own feelings. We swim in feelings, whether it be volunteers’, clients’, staff or friends and family all day long.

    Anti-zombification repellant spray

    Remember, you cannot be perfect, because you’d lose your humanity if you were perfect and volunteers need your imperfect, caring self. What can you do when feeling zombified? Here’s some things, for better or worse, that I’ve used when I realized I was just shuffling through the day, a drop of spit hanging from my slack mouth.

    • watch the funniest movie or stand up comedy you can find and then, when you’re still giggling, start to think of the maddening things that weigh on your mind. Mentally insert those things into the funny movie and make them funny. Write yourself into the scene. See the things that bring you down in a different light.
    • Grab your best-est friend, co-worker or relative and dare each other to do something outrageous. The thrill of the dare can often break feelings of drudgery. My family does this all the time to each other. These episodes become some of our best memories and make us laugh.
    • Read or watch the saddest thing you can find. Cry, feel horrible and then go wallow in all the rotten feelings you’ve been experiencing. Get it out. Take each rotten feeling, turn it over in your head and then think about the sad movie or story you’ve watched/read. How did the person in that movie/book deal with their challenge? Find inspiration in the strength of others.

     When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.

    Fred Rogers

    Stress can easily zombify us when feelings of not being in control overtake us. But we know our volunteers look to us to lead and inspire them. They believe in us. We can, too.

    Volunteers don’t want perfect, robotic leaders. And sometimes, zombification comes when the desire to do everything perfectly meets the reality that we are imperfect creatures.

    Volunteers want imperfect us

    Volunteers want you, imperfect you, and all your quirky sayings, your crazy ideas, your funny habits. They want the way your nose wrinkles up when you hear that a staff member didn’t say hi to a volunteer. They want the way your brow knits in thought when you’re plotting a way to involve them in a new program. They want your voice raised an octave when excited about an upcoming meeting. They want that hastily made poster that says thank you in sloppy script.

    Volunteers want your human self.

    -Meridian

  • There’s No Crying in Volunteer Management

    Does volunteer management ever make you cry? It does, doesn’t it? I mean, when you are sitting there and a volunteer recounts their struggle with being bullied as a child or they tell you about their journey through rehab or their fight to beat cancer, you just break down and cry because you care and feel their pain.

    And then there’s the pride cry when we witness volunteers wrapping a child in their arms or brushing the tear off the cheek of a grieving spouse. We well up when volunteers win an award because we witnessed their profound effect on those we serve. We weep when volunteers suffer a loss or when we see one of them grow fragile. We cry openly when they leave because they mean more to us than the hours they’ve spent.

    But do you ever cry out of frustration? When it’s all your body can do? I remember crying like that once. I was managing a resale shop with little to no resources except the great volunteers. I would borrow a hospital laundry truck to pick up donated furniture and ask an able-bodied volunteer to go along with me on the route that I had meticulously mapped out. Depending upon where the pickups were located and how much the donor had planned to donate, the route made maximum use of the truck.

    It happened during the last stop one day. It was 5:00 pm and I had to unload the truck at the shop and get it back by the hospital’s evening laundry run at 6:00 pm. The hospital had already sternly warned me that if I didn’t return it by 6, (I’d been late returning it several times already) they would not lend it out anymore, so I needed to hurry.

    My volunteer, Peter and I parked in front of the last house and got out. The donor was waiting to meet us. “I know I said I had two pieces of furniture, but we’re moving and I want you to take all of it.”

    Peter and I looked at each other. He and his wife had dinner plans with relatives who were visiting from out-of-town. “We won’t be able,” I began to say, but the donor cut in. “It has to be gone tonight. I thought we could get it into storage but we can’t. Our son was in an accident and he’s taken a turn for the worse.” His voice trembled. “We need to get to him.”

    Peter and I started to gather the furniture and haul it into the truck. The cargo space was nearly full and we had to jam the furniture in any way we could. I looked at my watch and realized that there was no way I could get the truck back in time. That meant the hospital would stop loaning it to me and the arduous task of having to find another vehicle all over again loomed.

    I knew that Peter would miss his milestone birthday dinner with his family. He didn’t say it, but I knew how important this was to him. My body was tired, my mind exhausted and thoughts of “what am I doing all this for anyway, I can’t get ahead,” began to swirl. My careful planning meant nothing now. Standing there in the back of the truck amidst all the tangled lamps and chairs, I broke down. It was so defeating.

    Peter stopped and gave me a minute and then he said, “Look, it’s ok. We’re going to do this. I can join my family when I get home, it’ll be fine.”

    “But it’s your birthday. Some birthday. I made you miss it. And they will take the truck away,” I said through tears.

    Peter nodded and said, “Yes, they probably will. But look, you’ve got us. All of us volunteers and we will figure this out. We’ve done it before and we will do it again.”

    We finished that night almost three hours late. I thanked Peter and drove the truck back to the hospital where my car was parked. After I gave the keys to an angry attendant, I got in my car and headed home. As I drove, I broke down and cried again.

    This time though, I wept because I was surrounded by volunteers like Peter.

    -Meridian

     

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  • Volunteer Managers and Decision Fatigue

    adult dark depressed face
    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

    Zack pushed back in his chair and stole a glance at his watch. 1:30. His lunch lay half eaten on his desk. A new volunteer, Karey was on hold, waiting for Zack’s decision on which volunteer would mentor her and what day she could start. Several new emails pinged on his screen. Task force volunteers needed an update on the choice of meeting spaces. In front of him, Nadia, the event coordinator was pointing to the unfilled volunteer slots at the Walk-a-thon this coming weekend.

    Weariness blanketed Zack. He forgot what it was the new volunteer on hold wanted. The subject lines on the newest emails blurred in his vision. He snapped at Nadia, “I told you, I was working on the event. I haven’t heard back from the volunteers I called. I will figure out who else I can call, but I can’t just make volunteers magically appear.”

    Decisions. Volunteer managers are faced with making hundreds, maybe thousands of decisions a day. Think I’m exaggerating? Let’s look at a simple request for a volunteer to fill a task and a sampling of the decisions involved.

    • Do I give this request priority?
    • Do I work on this now or put it in a queue?
    • What volunteers are best suited for this request?
    • Who should I call first?
    • How should I frame this request?
    • Do I ask for more information or do I have enough?
    • How much time should I spend on this?
    • What is the best time to call volunteers?
    • Should I also ask survey questions while I have them on the phone?
    • What points should I stress about the impact this task will have on our mission?
    • What is the best way to plead this case?
    • What recent activities has each volunteer I call been involved in and how can I acknowledge that?

    That’s 12 decisions before even starting. All day long, volunteer managers make decisions that directly impact the success of their volunteer programs. Daily major decisions include:

    • How should I answer this email and get my point across?
    • What tactic should I use when asking for more time finding volunteers for a hard to fill task?
    • How can I better explain this task to a volunteer?
    • What methods should I use when mediating the brewing dispute between a volunteer and a staff member?
    • What questions can I ask on the upcoming survey?
    • What do I want to measure on the next volunteer evaluation?
    • What can I streamline in today’s training to save some time?

    Decision fatigue occurs when the brain has made so many decisions that fatigue sets in, causing a breakdown in ability to make new decisions, or making snap decisions, or a lack of self-control and diminished willpower. It leads to poor decision-making.

    Decision fatigue can show itself with an irritated voice or a curt answer. It can show itself with “giving in” instead of standing ground for principles you believe in. It can show itself with forgetfulness or shutting down. It can show itself when you finally go home and can’t decide what to make for dinner so you order something unhealthy from that expensive take out place down the road because it’s the easiest thing to do.

    The 44th president of the United States, Barack Obama famously said:

    You’ll see I wear only gray or blue suits. I’m trying to pare down decisions. I don’t want to make decisions about what I’m eating or wearing. Because I have too many other decisions to make.

    Beyond filling volunteer tasks, a volunteer manager’s day is fraught with other carefully considered decisions.

    • How do I best approach senior management regarding an issue?
    • How do I politely extract myself from a conversation that is going on too long?
    • How do I mediate between a staff and volunteer or a volunteer and another volunteer?
    • How do I politely answer snarky questions?
    • How do I show volunteer value?
    • How can I manage all my tasks?
    • How can I remember all the small things?
    • How can I find new volunteers?
    • How can I listen to volunteers, genuinely hear them and yet not spend too much of my day in what appears to others as chit-chat?

    Volunteer management is the antithesis of assembly line work. There is no manual outlining each step because each step changes hourly. It involves careful people skills by leaders of volunteers with high emotional intelligence. Decisions are weighed and made in fractions of seconds. No wonder volunteer managers go home exhausted.

    So what can we do?

    Make the important decisions first thing: Before fatigue sets in and while your mind is clear, make your most important decisions early and stick to your decisions. Our minds are equipped to think more clearly and rationally before fatigue sets in so work on your most important projects or challenges when you first arrive. Do you have to counsel a volunteer? Do you have a yearly event? Do you have to give an important report? Work on those tasks first, set a deadline for your decisions and stick to them.

    Limit your decisions: Lay out your work clothes the night before work. Prepare your lunch or decide where you will have lunch the night before. Decide your 5 goals for the next day the night before. Put off making major decisions when you feel yourself losing willpower. There is nothing wrong with telling people you have to think about something and get back with them.

    Realize decisions will not all be perfect ones: Volunteer managers tend to hold themselves to a pretty impossible perfection standard, thinking that every decision must be the optimal one. This unrealistic standard creates paralysis when making decisions, slows down productivity and increases fatigue. Major decisions need time, but lesser decisions can be made more quickly and efficiently. Remember, after mulling over option upon option, we can still make an imperfect decision, so it’s best to leave the agonizing to major decisions.

    Carve out quiet time: Ideally, find an isolated space to work on projects. If you don’t have one, turn your computer monitor to the wall, turn the volume down, let the answering system pick up phone calls and work on your “need to do” list. One hour disconnected from the chaos will reap enormous benefits in not only making better decisions, but in your overall mental health. Two hours would be even better.

    Become a by-appointment office: It’s hard to do when you have an open door policy, but you can slowly begin to change that. Hang signs on your door that keep people from dropping in with questions or information that can wait. Signs that indicate “volunteer interview in progress,” or “volunteer strategy meeting in progress,” clearly announces that you must focus on the crucial task at hand. Having to make a major decision while constantly being interrupted with having to make smaller, snap decisions wears you down. It creates decision fatigue and robs you of any ability to make a good decision. If you find yourself continually putting off big projects, it’s a good sign that you suffer from decision fatigue and probably the effects of a chaotic office.

    Pare down the upfront work and utilize volunteer brains: For projects needing research, input from volunteers etc., ask volunteers to help you by completing the research or polling the volunteers. They can even assist by presenting you with decision options and their recommendations for best choices.

    What’s frustrating about decision fatigue is how it silently chips away at willpower. And a worn down volunteer manager will be ineffective when presenting volunteer contributions or advocating for better volunteer engagement practices.

    People who love us will tell us to take care of ourselves. They’re right. We need to take care of ourselves mentally and physically if we truly wish to create a successful volunteer program.

    So, please, while your brain is fresh and unencumbered, make a commitment to limiting the effects of decision fatigue.

    -Meridian