Thank you to Maya Angelou and/or Carl W. Buehner for this sentiment, especially during this season of volunteer appreciation weeks.
While on a morning walk yesterday, I encountered a dog walker going in the opposite direction on a popular loop near my home. Turned out he was someone I hadn’t seen in twelve years. We both nodded a polite “hi.” Unsure if he remembered me, I kept walking. As we looped back around and crossed paths again, I took a breath and said, “Hi, Andre. I don’t know if you remember me.”
“I do,” he said. And so, as I petted his dog, we fell into reminiscing. A talented singer, Andre had volunteered for my organization’s recurring variety show honoring veterans, an all-volunteer activity that was one of my all-time favorite experiences. Andre had served in Vietnam and later started a band that covered Motown hits from the 60s and 70s.
As we crossed paths on loop two, I could tell Andre had been thinking back to his volunteering because he stopped and, with a growing smile, shared what he loved about his role in our shows. He spoke about how much fun he had working with the rest of the cast. He talked about the audience’s enthusiasm and the palpable excitement in the theater. Then he told me how much this experience meant to him.
When we crossed on loop three, I asked Andre if he was still singing. He told me all about his years since, his involvement in his choir, and invited me to his church.
On loop four, Andre, with a wistful smile, said, “We really had something special. I wish we were still doing that show. I’d be back in a heartbeat.”
Me too, Andre.
See, sometimes we’re told to view volunteer recognition and ultimately retention as a list of things we should do.
- Say thank you-send a card, email, phone call on birthdays, anniversaries, special recognition times, etc.
- Create events-annual luncheon, parties during volunteer weeks, holiday get-togethers, etc.
- Keep volunteers informed-via newsletter, meetings, email blasts, etc.
Those actions matter, but they’re not a substitute for the deeper work. Volunteer engagement is not a series of independent activities or one-time actions. It is a quilt, woven from all the interactions volunteers have with us, with the people we serve, with staff, with our communities, and with administration. It is stitched together with threads made from meaning; meaningful work, meaningful connections, meaningful time spent, and meaningful take-aways.
It’s simple math. If volunteers spend most of their time feeling disengaged, the thank-you cards and parties will not keep them. If we rely on one or two or a scattering of token gestures, we’re gambling that those moments will be enough to outweigh the rest.
I’ve always rejected the term describing volunteer engagement as “wearing many hats” because, for me, engaging volunteers is not a series of unrelated skills. It is not running from activity to activity using random, half-baked knowledge and skills. All these supposed “hats” are actually interwoven subsets of one complex, overarching skill. Engaging volunteers is not directing them. It is not managing them. It is immersing them in an experience that transforms them. The skill-set needed to engage volunteers, woven tightly from soft or people skills such as mentoring, coaching, and problem-solving, along with a transformative experience, make up the currency we offer volunteers.
A volunteer’s experience is as intricate as the skill it takes to engage them, shaped by how they feel. It’s woven from a combination of all their experiences. They don’t want to stay because a thank-you card really brightened their day. They don’t want to invest in us because they loved the cheesecake at a volunteer event. They don’t look forward to their volunteer role because they received some organizational swag when they signed up.
They come because they feel something, hopefully something great. They come because their time spent has meaning. They come because they feel part of something, whether that be the mission, the other volunteers, the community, the staff, the people they are serving, or hopefully, all of the above. And when they leave, no matter the reason, they look back, just as Andre did, on their volunteering as a golden moment, one that adds layers to their lives.
When you talk to volunteers who love volunteering, you see a pattern. You hear words that tell you how volunteering makes them feel, how it transcends the hours spent and transforms them for the better. You experience their deep connection.
Our challenge is this: Volunteers typically spend a few hours (per week, or month, or occasionally) with us. They come in (or log-on) with fresh enthusiasm. They may expect things to move more quickly. They do not see the long hours you and other staff are working behind the scenes, doing all that minutiae that comes with the job. How do those few hours volunteers spend create enough meaning and connection for them to want to come back?
So, should we ditch all the retention-related activities? Of course not. Those notes and events reinforce connection and meaning. Let’s go back to simple math: When we foster more retention-related moments with our volunteers than down moments, the chances they will feel connection and meaning increase. And let’s not kid ourselves. Creating a meaningful culture of retention takes significant time, thought, and hard work.
But variety is key here, too. What other moments count as well?
- Invest: We don’t just “manage” them. We engage them by listening to their stories, ideas, and opinions. Listening doesn’t mean having to enact every volunteer suggestion, but it means validating their ideas and reinforcing how their hours spent furthers mission goals. Spending quality time with volunteers can appear as if we are just chatting and having fun, but in reality, we are strategically investing in them by discovering their needs and strengths. We are sending them the message, “You matter.” Call these moments “investing in our volunteers” or “discovering volunteer strengths” versus saying, “we chatted.”
- Culture: We establish a mission culture; that no matter how tired or seemingly distracted we sometimes are, we are here because we believe in our work.
- Transparency: We acknowledge our humanity by being transparent. No one is perfect. When a volunteer came to me with an issue, I wouldn’t make excuses, but would point to the human element (we are an organization run by human beings who are not perfect, but who are doing the best we can because we believe in our work). We’d decide how to overcome the issue, and I’d offer them another role if that was warranted, because their comfort and confidence mattered.
- Belonging: We foster a sense of belonging by creating opportunities to engage with staff and other volunteers. When volunteers consistently feel disconnected, it fosters an “us vs. them” mentality.
- Growth: We offer additional training and development and give them paths to move forward.
- Investment: We consistently share impact and value reports with them. We connect their volunteering to mission impact and celebrate the value they bring.
- Looping: We regularly check-in with staff who work with volunteers to make sure there are no looming challenges. And we conduct volunteer “stay interviews,” which are crucial to discovering what is working and what is not before the volunteer senses a disconnect happening.
I’m always amazed when bumping into volunteers from years past and how talking about their volunteer experiences lights up their faces. (I’m not delusional; I also run into former volunteers who scurry away). Sadly, we can never keep all volunteers happy forever. We will never have a perfect record. But, as we chat with our volunteers, we’ll discover what makes them want to be part of our culture and mission.
Running into former volunteers like Andre gives us an opportunity to discover what about their volunteering stood out to them: the good and the bad.
Because once they have finished volunteering, what will volunteers remember? Will they recall seeing colorful balloons during volunteer week? Or will they talk about those golden moments when they genuinely felt a transformation, ones that burrow into their bones, ones that last? I don’t mean we should ditch balloons and events. But events and even cards/notes can appear insincere if they don’t complement a culture of belonging, meaning, and connection. Thank-you notes and events should be the punctuation, not the story.
-Meridian
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