volunteerplaintalk

Tag: hospice volunteering

  • When Zombie’s Attack

    Carol has been a volunteer for a couple of years. She has a caustic personality and  her entrance into a conversation usually starts with a critique. Carol is tolerable at best. She really doesn’t cross the line far enough to fire, and perhaps by design, never really interacts with patients or family members.

    Carol does, however, interact with other volunteers. She serves with a large group of volunteers who work on projects.

    Not too long ago, a volunteer, Sheri came up to me and started to complain about not getting supplies needed, not having a lot of support from staff and not allowing the group to become “autonomous”. Hmmmmm, I thought, you look like Sheri but you sound like Carol. I answered all her complaints and then asked if I could come to their next meeting. Even though another volunteer manager oversees the group, I checked with her and she was all for my attending. Maybe she needs some backup I thought.

    When I arrived, I was literally attacked with a litany of complaints. The volunteers gathered around my seat at the table and, in rapid fire demanded answers to their questions. Clearly they needed someone new to complain to, and clearly they hoped I had the authority to fix their perceived lack of cooperation on our part. Or they just wanted to complain.

    I glanced up and around the room and noticed Carol, smiling smugly from her seat. She was enjoying the attack and having infected the entire group, probably could have mouthed the complaints with them.

    To be fair, one of the volunteers came up to me later and apologized for the group. I asked her if the meetings were always like that and she sadly admitted that she kept to herself during meetings and tried to ignore the negativity.

    When talking to the volunteer manager afterwards, she did say she tries to avoid being in the meetings and pretty much lets Carol and another volunteer, Rita run the group. She gets what they need and leaves the room, allowing for Carol to infect the others with her caustic attitude.

    Why would we want Carol as a volunteer? And why would we let her negativity seep into a group of really good volunteers? Why wouldn’t we let her go?

    We’re at that point with Carol. It’s one thing to be crotchety, and another thing to be grumpy; we’ve all had volunteers like that. But the volunteer who likes to stir the pot, when left unchecked, and with a tiny bit of influence, can ruin the experience for so many others. I think they take a sick pleasure in that. The sly little smile on Carol’s lips sent shivers down my spine. I almost could imagine a bit of brain matter dripping down her chin.

    I’ll be back to the meetings and help my fellow manager regain a positive control on the group. Rule #6 in the Zombie attack guide is travel in a group. Sometimes volunteer managers need to stick together in a show of force. Negative volunteers like Carol prefer to pick us off one by one. And they love it when they can stir up others. I guess misery really does love company.

    We can’t let Carol poison others. Whether we ask her to leave outright,  or monitor her continuously (if we have the stomach for it) or we honestly challenge Carol each and every time she goes for our throats, we have to take charge. If you are so unhappy here, then maybe it’s time to part ways.

    Good volunteers need us to run interference all the time, with staff, with clients and with other volunteers. I’ll be going back to the meeting. But I’m not running, Carol. I’m standing my ground. The other volunteers deserve that.

    -Meridian

  • The Math of It

    It’s a sickness, but I’m always looking for ways to mathematically quantify the impact of volunteers. The most common way of course is tracking how many volunteers and how many service hours. How about we get creative and  track “well this volunteer, based on his moving volunteer experience told his neighbor who then spoke to her mom in another state who mentioned it at her bridge game and one of her partners’ husbands needed help and so she went home and called hospice right away.” Try and measure that chain of events. If you can, please let me know, because I’d quantify that in a heartbeat!

    The other day, I, along with a volunteer, spoke to a group of university students who were taking a therapeutic writing course. Our volunteer, Grace approached this professor, thinking that we could snag a few volunteers from her class. Grace records life stories with our patients and is always looking for volunteers to help. We’ve seen the great interaction between the students and the older patients and love the whole intergenerational pairing.

    And so we presented our program to the class, peppering our talk with lots of anecdotes from experience. To their credit, they were polite listeners, and asked some really meaningful questions.

    The day after we received an email from the professor. Although it will be very difficult for the students to interview our patients (schedules, transportation-the usual things that unfortunately get in the way) they would like to partner with us.

    The professor thanked us profusely. It appears that after we had gone, the students opened up about their grandparents. Many wished they had spent more time with them and had learned more about their stories. Most had fascinating grandparents with experiences in the great depression, World War II and Korea, and difficulties immigrating and assimilating into a new country. It seems, for them, therapeutic writing took on a whole new meaning.

    Ok, so now what? Well, we are going to find a way to partner. What that means is, though, we will spend the time with them without any volunteer assistance in return. Shocker. So, I can’t record any hours or add any new volunteers. Oh well. These young people are vibrant and just being around them makes me feel useful. So what if I can’t find a way to record these hours spent. (I can’t believe I’m saying that! No! There has to be a formula there!)

    But, someday, somewhere down the line, one of those students will have grown up and while taking his kids to school, the thought will dawn on him that he needs to give back and he will think about his experience in the classroom and his local hospice will get a really good volunteer.

    And somehow, somewhere in my perfect little analytical world, the volunteer coordinator will call me up and tell me that and I will put a hash mark down on my mad scientist type of graph and proclaim loudly “AHA!”

    That’s if I’m around that long…

    -Meridian

  • Are You Hearing This or Are You Just Listening Impaired?

    On Thursday I was fortunate enough to be in a room with 50 volunteers who were taking part in the National Volunteer Leadership symposium put on by the National Hospice and Palliative Care Organization via the web. Throughout the day, these volunteers were attentive, focused and (horrors) POSITIVE. Why, horrors?

    Staff these days are bankrupt of positivity. Everyone is overworked, everyone is stretched too thin, everyone would like to do more on the job, but can’t. It is the grim reality of the hospice industry and most likely of every organization out there. Complaining is the norm. Stress related time off from work is the norm. Passive-aggresive behavior is a coping mechanism. Cynicism rules.

    Our CEO, to his credit, stepped into the room for a short time. He introduced himself to the volunteers and listened as I led a group discussion. And out of the blue, one volunteer commented, “you know, what I take away from this national presentation, is that the volunteer end of our organization is doing everything pretty well.”

    Whoa! Can you say that again? Can we tape you saying that? Another volunteer chimed in (without prompting, I swear), “you guys in the department really do a great job getting us information” to which there were nodded heads all over.

    The volunteers feel good about not only their jobs, but about how we are managing them. The morose feelings of being abused were lacking in this venue. The atmosphere was uplifting and positive and the comments were thoughtful and heartfelt. So, why am I frustrated?

    Did you hear that, Mr. Executive Director? No, did you REALLY hear that? In a lot of ways, managing volunteers is akin to managing staff, although it’s in many ways harder. Instead of paying outside consultants, looking to some mythical “expert” in another state, or creating more focus groups that don’t include volunteers or volunteer managers, how about for once, looking internally at a program that has results? Is this too novel an idea, or is it that, once again, you heard the comments and have mentally patted us on the head?

    Are we professionals who are doing a very difficult job well, or are we just lucky? Is that how our upper management team view us? Why not ask us how we get those results? If you don’t like the answer, fine, but at least be just a teeny bit interested, ok? Maybe there is a nugget of wisdom in how we do what we do.

    Sigh. It’s hard living in a fantasy world, one in which volunteer managers are appreciated. And no, I don’t mean treated as though we are really good at the fluff.
    I mean true respect for the human resources professionals and management experts that we are.

    Oops, I feel that cynicism creeping in. Maybe I’ll go do something passive-aggressive like sticking my head in the next manager’s meeting and saying something like, “oh sorry, I thought I heard cries of help coming from this room, but I guess you don’t want to acknowledge what you have right under your noses.”

    ehhhhhhhh, maybe not.

    -Meridian

  • Do you know your volunteer’s grand dog’s birthday?

    I have a good friend who is a volunteer coordinator. I meet her at the DOVIA meetings in my area and have for quite a number of years. She is a wonderful volunteer manager. Honestly, I was always amazed at how much information she had in her brain about her volunteers and I would feel inadequate when she would tell the group about the touching little extras her volunteers received. During Thanksgiving she gave them crafted (by her) little turkeys with a poem about thankfulness. Over volunteer appreciation week, she took each volunteer’s name and wrote a “wish” for them, taking into account each volunteer’s personal life situation.

    The last time we talked, however, she seemed a bit frazzled. Actually, she was extremely frazzled. One of her volunteers had just come out of the hospital and was having problems with recovery. Another volunteer’s son was in a car accident. Another volunteer’s husband just had surgery. Another volunteer just had to go out of state to see a friend whose daughter gave birth and the baby is in intensive care. Another volunteer, if I remember correctly had just taken in a neighbor whose house burned, but not completely, although the fire department would not let him stay in it because it was inhabitable.  And, she was just invited to a volunteer’s daughter’s dog’s birthday party. And oh, did I mention that the dog had cancer?

    Whoa! My head was spinning. Do I know these things about my volunteers? Yes, for the most part. Have I been invited to their personal events?  All the time. Yesterday, I went to a nursing home to see a volunteer, and then back to our care  center to visit with one of the best volunteers I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with.  Another one is battling cancer, but he wants to keep things private. Another one is having problems with his legs and circulation and not able to come in right now, but he has his daughter drive him over and we go out and chat with him in the car. And on and on and on.

    But I sensed with this wonderful volunteer manager a desperation. Keeping up with every volunteer’s personal life is really hard. Where do you draw the line? When do you drive yourself crazy? What is the fine line between healthy involvement and over involved?

    I honestly don’t know. Case by case? Some volunteers need more, some less?
    I know volunteers have quit because they did not get enough from our organization when they felt they needed it. I know that some volunteers feel hurt when we make a fuss over another volunteer even if they don’t express it. I know some volunteer feel so close to us that they become more like friends. While nothing is ever perfect, I do know that volunteer managers try hard to get as close to perfection as possible when working with our volunteers. We nurture, cajole, mentor, protect and care. Sometimes, it can be overwhelming. What do you think?

    -Meridian

  • A Little Chilly in Here?

    Just an update. The volunteer who left in a snit did come in on Tuesday and not only did not say more than a few words, she left after about 30 minutes saying through clenched teeth, “well, that’s all I have for work today.”

    Sigh. Was I angry, no, frankly I’m fresh out of big emotions. Was I rude to her? No, we know we have to be neutral at all times. She came the day after Monday, a day spent literally sorting out problems and walking the middle road. Bad timing for me, I was exhausted.

    I spoke to her as usual, praised her and thanked her for her work. What I really felt was deep disappointment. Although we are not unrealistic and not Pollyannas, don’t you just wish that volunteers would come for reasons that are helpful and REMAIN for those same reasons. Often we worry so much about volunteers coming for the “right” reasons, that we get blindsided by those who develop other reasons to stay. They disappoint us to the core.

    Even on our worst days physically, spiritually and emotionally, we have to remain upbeat, caring and willing to step outside of ourselves for a great cause we believe in. We sort of expect that from our volunteers and when one we have relied on gets angry with us, that is hurtful. It’s about the mission, don’t ever forget that. Maybe I need to tell her more often how her work is affecting the bottom line. I will do that, but at least next Tuesday, I’ll be prepared. I’ll bring my coat and drink hot chocolate.

    -Meridian

  • The Hard Part

    Just visited a volunteer in the hospital on Friday. This is something we all do routinely; visit in the hospital, attend funerals of spouses, send get well cards and flowers, mourn the passing of relatives and bring casseroles to homes. Our volunteers are more than just unpaid help and the more we nurture them for duty, the more we get personally meshed in their lives. Unless we are stone cold beings, we are affected greatly by the things that befall our charges. They hurt, we feel. And because we have so many more part-time volunteers, we have more human element on our plate than any HR manager. It is our burden to bear.

    This volunteer has inoperable cancer. Now, working for a hospice, this doesn’t come as some huge surprise. He was losing weight. He was worried and scared. He knew before they told him, but being a private, independent person, he kept us at an arm’s length until he was sure. Now, he let us in. He talks about quality of life. He wants to continue to volunteer. His son was touched by how well we knew his Dad, how we had inside jokes with him, how we reminisced over 12 years of service. His Dad is more than the guy who works on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He’s as human to us as a member of our family. And so we prepare ourselves to walk this last journey with him. Tears, loss, and hurt will be our companion. To care is to feel and when you manage volunteers, your feelings are open at all times. We bare ourselves emotionally because we care that these people get something out of their volunteering and so ultimately, we care about them.

    All the encouragement, the jokes, the listening, the training, the feedback, the inquiring, the answering, the building? That was easy.

    Now once again, comes the hard part: The goodbye.

    _Meridian

  • Volunteer Manager=Volunteer!

    Oh, one of my friends, who is a volunteer coordinator went and did it. He offered to “help out” with an event. You know how this goes. Someone from a department calls you and asks for help with something and before the words dry on your lips, you’re in charge. Is there a secret birthmark on our foreheads that magically appears once we become volunteer managers?  Does it say “ask me, I’ll do anything” and is it visible only to everyone else?  It must be, because we are all viewed as gophers, dumping grounds, catch-alls, happy to please everyone minions.

    Maybe the word “manager” in our title is wiped clean by the word “volunteer”. Or maybe everyone thinks we are so accomplished and brilliant and capable that they freely want us to be in charge. Ok, I lost my mind for a moment.

    My friend offered to help out and therein lies his problem. To him, “help out” meant an hour of set up and that would be it. To the other staff member, it meant, “ok, I’ll move on to the next event, because this one is taken care of.” She honestly thought that not only getting all the volunteers, but set-up, take down, coordinating with the facility, procuring the supplies and negotiations with the event planner was part of his “help.”

    When he told me this, I have to admit, I laughed and said, “what were you thinking?” He shook his head and agreed. We’ve both been down this road more times than a Dunkin Donuts coffee run in the morning.

    Eventually, it got straightened out, but not until after much extra work on his part. Sometimes it doesn’t even matter how clear we are with other staff members. They will try and dump their responsibilities on us especially if they feel stretched or stressed. I know a volunteer coordinator who is continually letting others dictate her job. She is miserable and no wonder. She has no time to cultivate volunteers, to creatively grow her program and to actually enjoy her job. Her day consists of cleaning up after everyone. I know I couldn’t do that for long and not end up on the front page of the newspaper for having gone nuts and torching the lobby.

    We have to be our own best friends and allies. While our jobs speak of the possibilities and wonderful work volunteers can do for our organizations, I don’t think it also includes all the “pack mule” stuff our fellow staff expect of us.

    While we continually use the phrases, “I’ve got the perfect volunteer for that job” and “I think we can help you out with that”, we also need to never be afraid to say “No, that’s not part of my job.” If we don’t, we will all end up torching the lobby!

    -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