volunteerplaintalk

Tag: hospice

  • Experts Among Us: An Interview with Katherine Arnup, Author, Volunteer Part 2

    516LHOA+4LL._AC_US327_FMwebp_QL65_

    Experts with skills and talents to share are everywhere, including the many experts within our volunteer programs. Last week, in our first part of this interview, Katherine Arnup, author of the new book, “I don’t have time for this,” shared her story in both caring for loved ones and volunteering at her local hospice.

    In part 2, Katherine gives us insight into how we can encourage the experts among us.

    VPT: How can organizations recognize volunteer contributions?

    K: I think volunteer contributions are not easily measured. Organizations can miss out on all the things volunteers contribute by not recognizing the whole person and what they bring. I used to speak to other hospice volunteer appreciation meetings. I would have volunteers come up to me afterwards and say, “thank you so much for understanding what we do and thank you for validating us and our work.” The volunteers were so grateful to be fully heard and understood beyond receiving lip service or a pin for hours volunteered.

    VPT: How can volunteers help other volunteers?

    K: I taught new volunteers in the training course. They learned from my experiences and I wasn’t afraid to share mistakes with them. I made fun of myself and was known as the volunteer who couldn’t make poached eggs. (laughing) This comes from a story I would tell about my failed attempts at poaching eggs for patients. I would actually try and convince the patients to order scrambled eggs, but the story made an impression in training because volunteers would say to me, “oh you’re the one who can’t poach an egg.”

    I would talk about how at first I would get mad at myself for making mistakes, but then I learned that we are not perfect and I wanted volunteers to know that, so I shared my mistakes with them.

    VPT: How can organizations support volunteers who have talents to share?

    K: I think it’s important that organizations not be afraid to celebrate what volunteers are doing. For example, the hospice where I volunteer recently started including volunteer stories in their newsletter. But I think there’s this common perception that by recognizing particular volunteers, others may feel left out.  I don’t think that’s the case.

    A long time ago, I spoke at a staff meeting where I told them the story of why I volunteered. Afterwards, one of the staff came up to me and said, “I had no idea why you were here until you told us.” Volunteers should be encouraged to share their stories at both staff and board meetings.

    Every volunteer has a story to share. We should be posting these stories and celebrating the whole person. What organizations need to realize is volunteers are out there talking up the mission. Instead of merely issuing statements like, “we couldn’t do what we do without volunteers,” staff need to realize that volunteers are spreading the word about the organization and that reflects positively on staff.

    When I taught the first year seminar, “Contemporary Controversies in Canadian Society,” I was working full time as a professor and volunteering four hours a week at the hospice. I included a segment in the seminar on disability, aging, death and dying, something the first year students were initially uncomfortable with. They didn’t know how to talk about death and dying, although most all of them had suffered some sort of a loss. Although they did not want to talk about it, they shared their experiences and afterwards they told me it wasn’t so bad.

    When I tell people that I volunteer at a hospice center, they usually say to me, “this must be a very good place, because here you are, working full time with a family and yet you make time to volunteer.”

    VPT: That’s a very powerful message.

    K: Volunteers are ambassadors for their organizations, at work, at school, wherever they are. Organizations should realize that fact and celebrate their volunteers.

    VPT: Thank you Katherine, for your wonderful book, your expertise and for sharing your insights with us.

    Every organization with a volunteer component has experts, passionate people, dedicated advocates and potential game changers in their midst. As Katherine said, recognizing volunteers does not diminish the enormous contributions staff make. On the contrary as she points out, volunteers who talk up the mission, spread the word and contribute to achieving goals reflects on staff and the organization as a whole in positive ways.

    We have to move our organizations into embracing volunteers and volunteer contributions as reflections on the importance of the mission and the work being done to achieve goals, no matter who is doing the contributing. As Katherine pointed out, we must get to know volunteers as whole people, a practice that just might lead to amazing outcomes.

    For every volunteer who contributes in profound ways such as Katherine has, how many volunteers with potential languish because they are “just volunteers?”

    Or maybe the better question is, “how much more quickly and efficiently can organizations solve societal challenges if they embrace everyone (volunteers included) who passionately wants to see them succeed and are willing to work hard to further mission goals?

    -Meridian

    Katherine’s bio:

    Katherine Arnup is a writer, life coach, speaker, hospice volunteer, ukulele player, and retired university professor. She writes about matters of life and death on her blog at https://hospicevolunteering.wordpress.com/.  Her book about caring for her sister and her parents as they were dying – “I don’t have time for this!” A Compassionate Guide to Caring for Your Parents and Yourself – is available online at Amazon and Chapters and at independent bookstores in Ottawa. http://katherinearnup.com/

     

  • Experts Among Us: An Interview with Katherine Arnup, Author, Volunteer

    516LHOA+4LL._AC_US327_FMwebp_QL65_

    Part One of Two:

    Recently, I was fortunate to catch up with Katherine Arnup, author of the new book, “I don’t have time for this,” a practical, yet emotionally supportive book that guides caregivers through the difficult process of caring for aging parents.   Katherine’s amazing book is available here: “I don’t have time for this,” by Katherine Arnup.

    Katherine is an example of the highly talented volunteers who contribute to their organizations far beyond the hours recorded. These volunteers ambitiously advocate for their chosen organizations and work behind the scenes to create awareness.

    For years, Katherine has been a strong voice advocating for terminally ill people and their caregivers.

    In this two-part post, we have the opportunity to learn from Katherine’s story, one which formed her dedication to spreading awareness of the hospice mission. Like Katherine, mission experienced volunteers give our organizations the opportunity to gather important feedback about how programs are working and determine future direction.

    VPT (volunteerplaintalk): Thank you for speaking with us, Katherine. Your book is inspired; full of practical wisdom, but tempered with the emotions that come along with care-giving. What prompted you to write this book?

    K (Katherine): I have always been a writer. My sister had been sick with cancer for many years. When it progressed to the final stage and was obviously fast-moving, I was on sabbatical from work at the time. It was then that I committed to making the 4 hour trip to Toronto every week to care for her.

    The experience was transformative for me. I had always been frightened by death ever since I was little and now that I was confronted by the impending death of my sister, I couldn’t be frightened any longer, so I pushed through. I literally sat with my fears. At one point my sister said to me, “you’re going to be an expert at this by the time you’re done with me!”

    And I said to her, “Maybe, but I don’t want to learn it from you.”

    It was inevitable that I write this book. I had learned so much. I’d written small pieces during her illness. Four years after her death, in 2001, I started volunteering at my local hospice in an 8 bed care facility. That same year, I began to write about my experiences. I suppose you could say it was cathartic. I had all these stories in me.

    Then, in 2003, my father, who was 92 at the time, became ill. My father, a retired judge had never met an obstacle he couldn’t overcome in his life, until that year. Getting sick was the one thing he couldn’t overcome. He tried though and did well, but eventually he did die. Once again, I would travel the 4 hours to Toronto to see him.

    VPT: How was that experience?

    K: I learned different things from him while he was dying. I learned he needed company even if it was only to watch golf or curling on TV with him. I learned how to just sit and be with him. My father was a slow speaker so that gave me the opportunity to write while I sat with him. In contrast to my sister whose disease moved rapidly, his came in increments which gave me more time to be with him, and to process and write.

    Shortly after my father died, my mother got sick and I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but I thought, “oh my God, not again.” Once again, her death was a different journey. My mother had an aneurysm many years before and had been disabled for years before she got cancer. I wrote about my mother in a piece I titled, “Not My Mother,” because the aneurysm had honestly already stolen my mother from me.

    I continued to write and I created a blog, “Hospice Volunteering”  in 2011. And I’ve been writing there ever since. I cover the gamut of topics from what we do as hospice volunteers to how to be with the dying. I’ve included book reviews, reports on visits I’ve made to hospices throughout my province and conversations with other volunteers.

    VPT: Did you tell your hospice about your blog, which by the way, I highly recommend reading?

    K: I did. I encouraged them to share it with the other volunteers. Other hospices heard about it and did share with their volunteers, especially when I wrote about issues important to volunteering. I knew my experiences would help new volunteers in their work with hospice patients. For example, conversations with patients will change on a week to week basis. I wanted new volunteers to know that you have to let go of expectations and be fully present with the patient as they are in any given moment.

    VPT: How do you think your book furthers the hospice mission?

    K: (pauses). The hospice mission supports people to live as fully as they can even as they are dying. It’s about staff and volunteers supporting people and their families. It’s about not just caring for a person and their illness, it’s about caring for a person’s whole world. We call it a “circle of caring.”

    I would say to other volunteers and even administrators, slow down and remember the moments of joy. We are all so busy checking off the items on our “to do” lists that we miss the opportunity to feel joy. We need to find ways to support one another.

    VPT: Next time, part 2 of our interview. Katherine and I talk about the ways organizations can support volunteers who bring expertise and we discuss how embracing talented volunteers lift up everyone.

    -Meridian

    Katherine’s bio:

    Katherine Arnup is a writer, life coach, speaker, hospice volunteer, ukulele player, and retired university professor. She writes about matters of life and death on her blog at https://hospicevolunteering.wordpress.com/.  Her book about caring for her sister and her parents as they were dying – “I don’t have time for this!” A Compassionate Guide to Caring for Your Parents and Yourself – is available online at Amazon and Chapters and at independent bookstores in Ottawa. http://katherinearnup.com/

  • Michael

    Michael

    Do our volunteers connect us to those unexpected moments, the ones that last?

    Greg had volunteered to help Roy, the brother of one of our hospice patients. Roy’s brother had died and as the only living relative, it was Roy’s job to empty out his brother’s house. It was a hot summer afternoon and I left work early to stop by. “Can you use some help?” I asked.  Greg wiped the sweat from his face and said, “yes.”

    Some of the household items went to our thrift store, the bigger ones were given to neighbors and the rest were placed at the curb for trash pickup. As I was carrying a box to the street, I noticed Roy placing a plastic blow mold snowman in the pile. It must have been the way I studied the old Christmas decoration, because Roy looked at me and said, “would you like to have it?’

    I touched the snowman’s hat, the jaunty band of yellow circling the snow-covered brim. “I would if you don’t mind.”

    “My brother Michael loved Christmas,” Roy said wistfully and looked around at the remnants of his brother’s life scattered in so many directions.

    I lifted the snowman, taking in his smile. “If it is all right with you,” I said, “I’m going to name him Michael.”

    Roy nodded. The cars zipped by us, the garbage bags flapping in their wake.

    “And every year, I will bring him out, light him and I will say, Merry Christmas, Michael. Is that ok?”

    Roy put his hand on my shoulder. “I’d like that.” He touched the old plastic face, his fingers tracing a farewell of sorts. I carried the snowman to my car.

    **********

    Every holiday season, for more than 10 years now, I’ve brought out the snowman with the jaunty hat and lit him up.

    Merry Christmas Michael.

    -Meridian

    Have a very happy New Year.

  • Taking Extra Care to Support Volunteers

     

    Taking Extra Care to Support Volunteers

    The recent spate of natural disasters has cast a light on incredible volunteers across the globe helping people in need.

    Although not always news worthy, volunteers daily walk towards a crisis instead of running away. In organizations everywhere, volunteers are doing the hard work, the emotional work. Because they feel so deeply, they are affected by the tragedies they witness such as in this story:  Volunteer shares harrowing account of how Hurricane Irma ripped toddler from woman’s arms

    In our training programs, we encourage our volunteers to have empathy (the ability to understand and share the feelings of another) so they can better serve our clients. But can empathy take a toll?

    I remember a new volunteer, Jenna and the first time she was present with a patient who died. Jenna had hours of volunteer training. She and I had talked at length about her strengths and capabilities. She was prepared… on paper.

    Minutes after she left the room, allowing family members to gather, she sought me out. I was in the middle of some urgent matter that I have long forgotten. I looked up and saw Jenna’s face and I knew. You can’t mistake a face that has been profoundly affected by what was just witnessed. It’s there in the tiny muscles that make up the eyes and mouth. It’s there, deep in the irises that reflect a life altering experience. It’s there in the reverent voice asking for “a moment of your time.”

    We found a private spot and sat for several long and quiet minutes while Jenna gathered her thoughts. It was difficult for her to put into words how she felt. She only knew that she felt changed, different, profoundly transformed somehow.

    And if you think about it, how does each volunteer cope with the things they witness? Does training and on-boarding take care of the emotional investment our volunteers make when accepting roles placing them in life’s most profound situations?

    Volunteers have an amazing resilience and ability to cope when faced with deeply personal scenarios. But what if a situation becomes more personal? In what situations can this happen to a volunteer, even if they have received excellent training?

    • a volunteer works with a person who reminds them of a family member (child, partner, parent, sibling)
    • a volunteer witnesses tragedy over and over and it accumulates
    • a volunteer is dealing with a crisis in their own lives
    • a volunteer is in a situation in which they perceive their help makes little difference (in outward appearance)
    • a volunteer gets caught up in the narrative of the situation
    • a volunteer feels the frustration of the client

    We can’t prepare our volunteers for every situation, story and person they will encounter. So, how can we provide extra support for volunteers in order to prevent burnout? A few of the things we can do are:

    • ask clinical staff to be on the lookout for signs a volunteer needs support
    • ask clinical staff to be available to speak with volunteers who may be overwhelmed
    • enlist experienced volunteers to routinely call the volunteers who are working with clients. Experienced volunteers are the perfect candidates to do these check-ins because volunteers are comfortable speaking to other volunteers. (This is a great assignment for volunteers who physically can no longer do the job-instead of “retiring” them, elevate them to mentoring status)
    • create a monthly coffee klatch or tea time and encourage volunteers to share tips, stories and feelings
    • use newsletters to offer tips on self care
    • incorporate stories of volunteers who experienced emotional challenges into training and emphasize that this is not a sign of failure
    • designate a portion of each volunteer meeting to discuss “what’s going on with you”
    • intervene when noticing a volunteer experiencing emotional challenges (this can be personal, professional etc.)

    If we make it clear that we are serious about supporting our volunteers, we will help them remain emotionally healthy and keep them from burning out.

    This is the irony of non-profit work: We want our volunteers to share in our clients’ pain (Empathy) in order to better support the clients. But that empathy can lead to our volunteers experiencing their own emotional pain. Let’s make sure we support them so it doesn’t get out of hand.

    -Meridian

     

     

     

     

  • Interview With a Volunteer: Ellie Part 2

    contacts

    Part two of an interview with Ellie, a volunteer for 18 years with a hospice.

    VPT: Let’s look at things in retrospect now. What advice do you have for volunteer managers? How can we keep someone like you?

    E: I’d say that having someone a volunteer can count on is important.

    VPT: In what way?

    E: It’s trust. I trusted my supervisor and he trusted me.

    VPT: You moved away. But you stopped volunteering before you moved. Was it because you were contemplating the move?

    E: (pauses) No.

    VPT: What was it then?

    E: Things were changing.

    VPT: In what way?

    E: Well, my supervisor was taking on more and more work. I began to realize that when I needed support or a chance to talk, I may go to his office and he would not be available or at another location.

    VPT: That support was important.

    E: Well, yes, because I wanted to make sure that I was doing the right thing. I did not want to do anything wrong.

    VPT: And so, you saw change happening.

    E: Yes.

    VPT: Ok, I am asking you to be honest here. As volunteer managers, we’ve all done this. We sometimes share our frustrations at the amount of extra work with our volunteers, although we don’t mean to do that. Did your supervisor start sharing his frustrations with you?

    E: No, not at all. See, the type of relationship I had with my volunteer supervisor was so successful. He didn’t have to say a word to me. I instinctively knew that he was overburdened all on my own.

    VPT: Do you think it is harder for new volunteers if they don’t forge that deep relationship with their volunteer manager?

    E: I don’t know because I can’t compare it to anything I experienced. I would ask though, are volunteers getting what they need? I know I had it pretty good, and by the same token, I wonder if volunteers who don’t receive the same vote of confidence will stay.

    VPT: So when did you decide to stop volunteering?

    E: I had this patient, Joy, the sweetest lady you’d ever meet. I would go to her house and take her to do her shopping. We had so much fun together, But one day, I went to her house. I was tired, out of sorts I guess and I felt a bit like I didn’t want to go to the store. Joy said to me, Are you all right? Have I done anything to upset you? Well, I assured Joy that she could never upset me and I apologized over and over. I thought long and hard about that moment.

    VPT: And that had something to do with your leaving?

    E: I knew then, that I was done. How? It was my attitude and reactions that told me. I knew that it was time. I had nothing more to give. And if I can’t give 100%, then I’m not doing any good for the people I’m supposed to be helping.

    VPT: How did that make you feel?

    E: (sighs) It made me sad, because it had been such a good ride.

    VPT: Eighteen years. That’s a long time. Did you feel any guilt over leaving?

    E:  No, no guilt because I gave my all while I was there. It was just time.

    VPT: How do you look back on it, now?

    E: I wouldn’t trade it for the world. It was enlightening, rewarding, and was almost like a second carer.

    VPT: What advice would you give to volunteers?

    E: You get out what you put in. And, it is crucial to ask if you have questions and to share problems and experiences with your supervisor.

    VPT: Any advice for volunteer managers?

    E: Yes. Supervisors need to know that volunteers go through what I went through. They need to realize and look for signs that volunteers are going through a period of ineffectiveness and they need to address that. Nurture the volunteers you have.

    VPT: Would you go back now that you’ve had some time off?

    E: No. That is in the past now.

    VPT: Thank you Ellie, for your honesty, your insights and your incredible volunteering.

    E: My pleasure.

    -Meridian

     

     

     

     

  • “It’s Good to Remember, Remember With You”

    With his permission granted, I want to share a song written several years ago by Michael Becker, a talented singer and songwriter who strove to capture the connections volunteers make with folks suffering from dementia and Alzheimer’s disease. Mike spent many years not only volunteering with people at end of life but also inspiring new volunteers to follow their hearts.  I’ve been humbled witnessing Mike playing his song for patients, caregivers, family members and volunteers who quietly relate to that difficult journey through memory loss. As Mike says, “I’m just grateful to be able to share my experiences through my music.”

    Please enjoy

    -Meridian

     

     

     

  • Defining Success

    coal miners wikipedia wikipedia

    The first time I met Alex many years ago, I noticed his manicured nails. He had the soft hands of wealth. His was not a gaudy proclaiming wealth, but an understated old mixed with new wealth. A retired corporate lawyer, with his much younger wife still working, he wanted to fill his days with something meaningful to do. He’d not had a hospice experience, but he’d heard that hospice was a good organization to volunteer for and he wanted to try it out.

    He stuck out in orientation. From his formal weekend wear to his lawyer inspired questions, he animated the sessions with his analytical take on things. The rest of the diverse but more laid back class was somewhat intimidated by him. (Me too if you must know- and yes I tell myself that I’m no better and no worse than anyone else, but heck, my clothes wouldn’t keep their shape like his did).

    After the six orientation sessions were over, I met with Alex in my office. He was polite and cerebral and together we formulated that with the help of a seasoned volunteer, he could begin volunteering in our care center.
    Alex called me often to ask questions. He would show up at my office door every time he came in to volunteer. Knowing that he was used to doors always opening  when he knocked, I allotted time for him. Was he smart? Oh my, I think I could have applied for 3 credits at a local college after listening to his measured thoughts.
    Since the care center staff had really never seen anyone quite like him, I was peppered with lots of questions and comments. “One of those successful types,” a nurse said one day. “He asks a lot of questions,” another said and added, “you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

    One day, a new patient, Lester came into the care center. A coal miner from West Virginia, Lester was in his late 80’s. His wife had died young and although he had no children, he had an old phonograph that played bluegrass music day and night. We all were used to walking past his room, hearing the lively strains of banjo, fiddle and mandolin drifting up and down the halls as if over the hills of a coal camp. As thin as a pick axe, Lester spoke of a time when his wife scrubbed his coal stained clothes until her hands bled and the chocking black dust laid upon the ground outside his camp house door.

    Alex began to visit with Lester more frequently. He sat in Lester’s room while the phonograph scratched out “Foggy Mountain Breakdown,” and listened to Lester’s stories of moving from job to job until the mines became more mechanized. As time passed, Alex began to place his chair closer to lean over to hear Lester and I would observe him, elbows on knees, straining to catch the flooding memories. Then, one day, the absence of bluegrass music outside Lester’s door spoke volumes. Lester was actively dying and his phonograph had grown quiet. He had turned it off. Alex came to me and tentatively said, “I have an acquaintance who plays the banjo and knows any number of Lester’s favorite songs. Do you think I could ask him to come in and play for Lester?” We checked with the charge nurse and social worker and Alex was given permission to bring his friend in. By this time, Lester had not stirred from bed, but lay peacefully, quietly slipping away.

    I skipped a meeting that day, shut my office door and crept down to the care center. The stomping good sound of the banjo’s strings was glorious. I peeked into the room and saw Alex’s friend’s frenetic fingers pick that banjo, his eyes smiling at  Lester, who was now somehow sitting upright, a look of bliss on his worn face. Alex nodded to me from the very corner of the room. I wondered if Alex consciously picked the color of his shirt that day to blend in with the wall color.

    Lester died two days later. Alex and I sat in my office, the lack of music deafening. He did tell me that his friend was honored to be able to play for someone who breathed those mountain roots. Alex got up to go. It wasn’t the time to badger him with questions about how he was going to process this experience, not yet anyway. Right then it was time to silently let it all sink in.

    What makes a person successful? I’d say Alex pretty much had it all figured out.
    -Meridian

  • Confessions and Connections

    tinkertoySometimes our view of the volunteer world can be shaken. We read that a volunteer harmed a vulnerable person. We find that a volunteer was hiding a checkered past or we observe a volunteer behaving in an unseemly manner.
    We send a volunteer out to do a good job and when we hear nothing to the contrary, we assume that everything is rolling along smoothly, because everyone realizes the worth of a volunteer and will welcome that volunteer, right? At least we hope it happens that way until we hear a confession sometime later…
    Kaya, a hospice volunteer coordinator was speaking to a former volunteer, Jayne. Jayne has been battling a chronic illness that prevents her from volunteering but, when healthy, was one of the most called upon and successful patient volunteers.
    In between all the catching up, Kaya and Jayne chatted about a few of Jayne’s favorite assignments and most interesting patients and families. She provided respite care to families in homes and brought companionship to nursing home residents.
    Kaya said, “Jayne played by the rules, turned in paperwork on time and always was cognizant of her representation of the mission. But at one point Jayne asked me if I remembered assigning her to see patients in the Golden Oaks nursing home.”
    Kaya hesitated. “Yes, I said, I remember that, but I also remember that you couldn’t go back because of the cleaning fluid they used. It gave you respiratory problems. But then Jayne told me that wasn’t true at all, that she lied to me and asked me if I wanted to hear the real story. I, of course said yes and she told me this story.”
    Kaya shook her head, but she continued, “Jayne said that she went to visit a patient at Golden Oaks, a 90 some year old lady who had end stage Parkinson’s disease. She said she was in the room with the patient when a staff member came in with a lunch tray and told Jayne to feed the patient. Jayne said she told the staff member that she was not allowed to feed patients and the staff member got mad and demanded to know why she was there in the first place if she couldn’t really be any help. Jayne said she kept her cool but another staff member, who appeared to be a supervisor came into the room and basically said the same thing.” Kaya stopped for a second. “I can’t tell you how shocked I was to hear that. First of all, how dare someone treat a volunteer that way and second of all, I thought of all the good these volunteers do for patients and how Jayne could have just as easily up and quit after that. I wanted to ask why Jayne didn’t tell me when it happened, but I reconsidered. I didn’t want to make her feel like she had let us down, not after all the good work she has done. But it makes me wonder what other situations occur that volunteers are unwilling to tell me.”

    tinkertoymazeVolunteer managers construct intricate helping structures. While we may be the hub or first connector for our volunteer helping structure, we must rely on other connectors (other people) to extend out further. The further you build out, the more fragile the structure becomes. Any volunteer that reports directly to the volunteer coordinator is being engaged by someone who knows how to cultivate volunteers. The further out on the structure the volunteer goes, the more the volunteer manager must rely on the soundness of new connectors (other people) interacting with the volunteer. Do these new connectors understand the volunteer’s role? Does a new connector know how to engage a volunteer? Is the new connector aggravated at having to monitor a volunteer on top of other duties or perceive a volunteer as a nuisance?
    While we understand that we cannot control every situation and every person a volunteer interacts with, we understandably can worry about our volunteers when they are being engaged by other people unknown to us. And, after spending a great deal of up front time mentoring a volunteer, it is disheartening to think that a callous comment or flippant attitude can quickly ruin that.
    When I started accompanying volunteers on their first assignment and introduced them to the key stakeholders, I found that some of these problems were minimized. One of our roles as volunteer managers is to educate other people on how to work with volunteers. The skills needed to retain volunteers are second nature to us, but aren’t all that obvious to everyone else who may have stressful jobs and responsibilities that prevent them from seeing the volunteer picture.
    This approach takes more work on our parts, but it’s necessary, both for the mission and for the volunteer. As we extend our helping structure out, we need to personally check on the connectors being used, to ensure soundness and strength.
    After all, the delicate structure we create is a thing of beauty and support for our clients. We don’t want it to fall.
    -Meridian

  • Little Gray Lies

    you cant handle the truth“Ok, lying is bad, we need to be upfront, honest, transparent, blah. blah, blah,” said Jeff as he exhaled. “But sometimes, you just have to bend the truth to protect the volunteer. I found myself having to tell a little white lie not too long ago to a volunteer who did nothing wrong. You see, this volunteer, Hal, is a real stand up type guy. He’s honest, hardworking, well, you know the type, a guy you’d want for a next door neighbor.”
    Jeff is a manager of volunteers who deliver meals to home bound seniors in a small rural enclave. “So, this particular client of ours, a lady who is getting other services besides meals delivered, called her social worker and accused Hal of stealing a statue from her hall table. Before I had the chance to question Hal, the social worker went to her house and found the statue, which had somehow found its way to another table. It was case closed. But she didn’t want Hal to come back and honestly, I wasn’t going to let him go back there anyway. So basically, I told Hal that the lady was moving and we had to take her off the route.”
    Jeff paused. “I don’t like lying in any form, but why would I tell Hal the truth? For what, it was a mistake, so what could be gained by telling him? Would he not then be leery of all his clients? Would he wonder what accusation could come next? Would his whole experience be tainted?”

    The other night, I watched a 1960s comedy in which the main character overheard his doctor on the phone speaking about another patient who was just diagnosed with a terminal illness and of course the main character thought it was him. Part of the misunderstanding came when he overheard his doctor say, “tell him? No, he doesn’t need to know, it will just upset him.” This reminded me of Dr. Eric Cassell, the author of “The Nature of Suffering” who candidly spoke about the days when he was a young doctor and did not tell patients they had cancer. “We didn’t do it because we were liars,” he said. Instead he asserts that they told little white lies to protect the patient from the truth, because the patient would ask what can be done and doctors had nothing to offer.

    Noble little white lies: I have told them to volunteers too. Occasionally a family will not want a volunteer to come back. “She talks too much,” or “we just don’t get along,” or “he isn’t the type to enjoy my Dad’s jokes,” are just a few of the really benign reasons a family may not want the volunteer to come back. Did I pass that along to the volunteer? Nope, I like Jeff, shielded the volunteer from the non pleasantries of being dismissed due to a perceived character flaw. One volunteer innocently shared a personal story with a family and they were insulted. Their social worker told me that this family was highly sensitive and assured me that the volunteer did nothing wrong. I told the volunteer that the family found help elsewhere and that we would reassign him to a new family that needed his considerable talents more.

    Kind, noble little white lies: In the old days, I, like Dr. Cassell, decided to use a white lie to protect volunteers from anything less than my idea of volunteering, which was unicorns and puppies. There were volunteers who, in my humble opinion, were not right for assignments, like speaking to a group, or representing us at a ceremony. I told myself that by noble lying I was sparring them from the knowledge that I didn’t think they were good enough for the job. But, as these falsehoods started to feel like an oil slick on my tongue, it began to dawn on me. What, really was I doing by telling these kind, noble white lies?

    Self-serving, kind, noble white lies: One day, I had to counsel a volunteer on her behavior. This was a volunteer who worked on Sunday in a hospice house. As we all know, weekends are harder to fill than weekdays, so really, weekend volunteers pretty much have to set fire to the joint to get fired. This was not the first time I had heard a complaint about this volunteer’s behavior. I had spoken with her before, using my kind, noble white lie to shield the volunteer from the unpleasant accusations. After all, this volunteer didn’t deserve that, or did she? Ahh, the little annoying voice in my head wanted to know if I was being noble or (horrors) being selfish. Who, me, kind, noble volunteer manager, selfish? Was it really about protecting the volunteer’s feelings or was it more about having to replace this volunteer, a task that would take a lot of hard work? Was my lie so noble, so kind, so pure? (I hate you, little annoying voice.)

    Having to do the right thing is never easy. I reached back and straightened my spine and spoke frankly to the volunteer and to my surprise she did not quit. She took the criticisms seriously and promised to curb her brusque nature. But, did she actually change? Yes, not completely and not right away, but the complaints stopped. As I checked in with weekend staff on her progress, I found that she was honestly trying. I added a call to commend her for her efforts and after a time, she and the staff forged their own relationship. It took extra work, but it was the right thing to do, not only for our patients, but for staff and the volunteer as well.

    Gray Lies: Do we tell lies to protect the volunteer or to protect us? I think in most cases, it is both. We may have a noble reason to shield volunteers from negativity, but aren’t we also shielding ourselves from the presumptive fallout? Honestly, we are. Are we bad people for doing that? No, we are just human. So why even bother to explore our reasons for these gray lies? Because if we value honesty, then we first and foremost have to be honest with ourselves. Why am I using noble lies? Am I relying on them to minimize conflict so that everything runs smoothly? Is that really my end game or am I just afraid to deal with confrontation and too weary to help fix it?

    No Lies: Hmmmm. Will we ever get to this point? We can, if we have the best interests of our clients at heart, and if we truly view our volunteers as adults who can handle the truth. If we want our volunteers to succeed, we have to help them find success by working with them, not around, in back or detached from them. So, the next time I want to shield a volunteer from the truth, I’m going to have to examine if I’m really shielding myself.
    -Meridian

  • Retinal Scan Anyone?

    Frankenstein (1931)Background checks. They have become a permanent part of our volunteer manager lives. Now, don’t get me wrong, I see the reasons for doing them, but they are not done by our waving the magic wand. Sometimes they don’t even get done for reasons out of our control after we’ve spent a whole bunch of time trying to set them up. Then the volunteer process drags on. And on and on until we forget we have a prospective volunteer or they give up. That’s frustrating for everyone.
    See, I come from the early days, before background checks. (“Want to volunteer, fine, step up. I can’t imagine you have anything to hide.”) It makes me think back to one of the first volunteers I had the pleasure of working with, Joe McDermit. Joe was the kind of guy who did whatever he thought necessary, and he had already been volunteering for years when I came on the scene. Joe taught me (or should I say scared me) about the individuality of volunteers. A couple of weeks after I arrived, one of the staff members pulled me aside and said that she had seen Joe driving our patient down the road. “That wasn’t the problem,” she added, “but Joe’s passenger door was missing.” Well, I thought, isn’t this going to be an interesting job?
    To be fair, I also remember the day I was talking to a family member and she asked, “are your volunteers back ground checked?” At that point, we had begun conducting the checks, so I could honestly say yes. That felt pretty good and I realized that we were going in the direction our clients needed us to go in. I’ve been privy to criminal records for a long time and they are interesting to read. There’s history, emotion and back story in every one of those reports. I really hate having to tell someone we can’t take them, but risk management is all about, well, risk. However we feel about it, we have to think in terms of liability. (Did you know that your volunteer was jailed for resisting arrest with violence when she hit that client? Hmmmm, explain that one. But she seemed very nice and sincere doesn’t cut it in a lawsuit.)
    Fingerprints are another matter. Someone has to actually capture the volunteers’ fingerprints. Did you know that our fingerprints are hard to record when we get older because our skin is drier? Of course you know that. You’ve had those complaints. What if the person conducting the fingerprinting is not nice to the volunteers? What if the fingerprinting person goes on vacation or is back logged? Then volunteers have to wait and they may lose interest. What if they are afraid of what might show and they bring you “proof” that charges from 1988 were bogus? (Sadly, these things don’t go away willingly, the information sticks around to make a life miserable).
    I’m thinking that in the future, we will have to do drug screening too. Will this make it difficult for volunteer managers to recruit folks? Probably. I know a volunteer coordinator whose volunteer mentioned that she smokes marijuana occasionally at home and she does not live in Colorado. What to do with no mandatory drug test? What about background psychological information? How about those folks who have spent time in a rehab, or mental facility or are recovering addicts? Will we be testing or searching for that as well?
    So, on that note, I’ve decided that when I retire, I’m going to go into the business. I imagine there’s a ton of money to be made in checking out the backgrounds of volunteers. I’m going to call it VolunCleanse, the all-inclusive volunteer background check. I’m going to buy an old tanning bed and refit it with all the equipment I need to guarantee that pesky potentially lawsuit inducing volunteer is clean. Here’s how I envision working with a potential volunteer:
    “Hello, Jake, so you want to volunteer at the library, do you? Well, let’s just see whether or not you can pass this highly sensitive cleansing test. Think you can fool the cleanse o meters? Get into this state of the art deception detecting unit and just try to keep information from me. Muahhaaaahaha!”

    So, Jake lays down in the tanning bed and the large lid creaks shut. I throw the switch and tell Jake to place his hands on the crackling lid above, thus capturing his fingerprints.
    Needles come from the side and his DNA is extracted while his hair is sucked into a hole in the bed and a few strands are pulled out with follicles intact. Oops! Maybe it was more like a clump, but the bleeding is mopped up with a sponge that serves as a specimen. A retinal scan flashes across his face while truth serum is administered into his mouth as he yells “ow”. As the truth serum takes effect, a monitor shows him Rorschach blots and he is instructed to quickly identify each image. A silky voice intermittently asks, “are you sure you don’t see something sinister from your past?” After the serum has settled, Jake is subjected to a series of questions probing his background. A biometric scanner notes how many sweat beads pop up on Jake’s brow. Then Jake is left to recover while some soothing music is played and he drifts off the sleep for a few minutes. At some point in the future, there will be a memory erasing device to wipe away all the unpleasant thoughts from this assault on human dignity. I’ll be charging big money for this service. After all, good volunteers are clean volunteers.
    For now, though, we’ll still try to assess volunteers by our old methods, like interviews, observing, and careful cultivation. But at least we won’t have to worry about their past lives, because risk management is here to help. Always minimize the risk.
    I’m forced to think of a conversation I had with a thirty something woman who had a mess on her background check. “How’s a person who has changed her life around supposed to catch a break?” she asked me and I had no answer for her. Inside my head, I pictured Joe McDermit cruising down the road with a client hanging out his door. But, you know, those clients absolutely loved Joe and so did I.
    I looked at this young woman and knew that if I took her, I would be violating every liability no-no there was. I also knew that I was a part of the society that wasn’t giving her a second chance. I offered her some volunteer work that didn’t involve patients.
    Now, I have no say over background results. They go through a large clearing house where trolls in overcoats throw darts at a board for all I know.
    Step into the VolunCleanse machine. It knows all, but doesn’t care.
    -Meridian