volunteerplaintalk

Tag: managing volunteers

  • Am I Nuts, Cause I’ll Put Up With Anything

    clingingMelissa is a volunteer coordinator at a large hospital where she manages a great number of volunteers. She is responsible for filling many positions, including the receptionist volunteers who greet family members in a trauma waiting area. It is an important volunteer assignment and she is required to keep the shifts filled. She has this volunteer, Irma, who has been coming in for one shift the past 5 years. Irma is prompt, reliable, a stalwart. The day after Irma’s shift however, Irma calls Melissa to complain about the lack of brochures, the semi-clean bathrooms, the lazy security guard, the tired reception room furniture, the poor advertizing, the rude staff, the incompetent management and the uncomfortable chair. Irma chews Melissa’s ear for twenty minutes with a list of things that need to be fixed and finishes off by threatening to quit.
    Melissa listens patiently and then does her best to not only fix every little thing, but she also fawns over Irma. Is Melissa nuts?

    Joan has a hospice volunteer, Sig, who, she calls upon occasionally. Sig gives Joan a hard time when she calls him. She steels herself for the excuses, the sighs, the checking schedules four and five times, the twenty questions and the coaxing. Sometimes Sig refuses and sometimes he accepts. Joan thanks him profusely, and calls him the day after his assignment and listens again while he comes up with the reasons he shouldn’t have gone. Joan empathizes, comforts and promises him that the next time will be better. Is Joan insane?

    Mark is a volunteer coordinator for an organization that serves at risk youth. His volunteers make home visits to assess the program’s progress. He has this one volunteer, Henrietta, who is a drama sponge. She sits in Mark’s office for an hour, watching him scramble to get jobs done, peppering her latest life crisis between his phone calls and paperwork. Mark listens patiently, assuring Henrietta that she’s “not bothering” him. He listens intently, concentrating on her needs while she’s there, empathizing with her chaotic life. Later, he may have to stay an extra half hour to catch up. Is Mark crazy?

    We all have these kinds of volunteers. Are Melissa, Joan and Mark super-dedicated or are they just plain dumb? Why would they encourage these behaviors? Well, here are the reasons.
    Irma works on Sunday.
    Sig will go out in the evening.
    Henrietta goes into a neighborhood that no one else will go into.

    It’s ironic how our behavior changes, and needs to change with each and every volunteer and each and every assignment. We all have experienced the volunteer request that is nearly impossible to fill and when we do fill it, we’ll cling to that volunteer like a falling animal to a branch. Suddenly, behavior that we might not tolerate in others becomes, well, not so bad. And when that volunteer becomes ill or has to take some time off, we feel, (if we are completely honest) much more devastated for ourselves because we know how hard it will be to replace them.
    Volunteer managers are by nature very mutable. It is our job to keep positions filled, to keep volunteers happy and retained, to put the right person in the right job. Sometimes, there is only one person for a job and when that occurs, our survival instincts kick in.
    So, the next time you have this nagging little voice asking you why you put up with certain behaviors from certain volunteers, just think of your fingers starting to ache as you cling to that branch hundreds of feet above the canyon of NO VOLUNTEER REPLACEMENT. Then, ignore that voice and Hang On!
    -Meridian

  • Confessions

    pick up stixI don’t know if was a full moon, or maybe Venus somehow sneaked around and eclipsed Mars, but there was a definite vibe in my volunteer training the other evening. You know the old game Pick Up Stix where you drop sticks down and then have to pick them up one by one? New groups of volunteers remind me of the random pattern you get from that game. Each group’s dynamics is so varied, yet intertwined and the personalities clash or sync which really creates the tempo.

    One of our volunteers, Dave, has always offered to come and speak to class. I took him up on his offer. I love volunteer speakers; they are honest, inspiring, witty and extremely encouraging. You never know, though what they are going to say, but for the most part, honesty works.

    Dave sauntered in and greeted me gruffly, said hi to the newbies and got to work recounting his experiences with patients and families. He told them about patients who were funny, families who were loving, circumstances that were inspiring. He stretched his images out like canvas over a frame, painting a colorful and rich world of volunteering.

    Then, suddenly Dave shifted gears. It came after he spoke about a patient who had battled alcoholism for most of his life. Dave grew serious as he described the patient’s struggle and then launched into his own battle with alcohol abuse. He spoke about the program he enrolled in and the dedicated counselor he had.

    Oh, oh, I thought as I scanned the class. Too much information. But how do I stop Dave without giving the impression that he was speaking out of turn? But as I surveyed the faces, I could see they were mesmerized. Dave finished by emotionally thanking everyone for their attention, and as he left, his confession hovered over those pick up sticks like a hand about to drop. And before I could apologize or commend, one new volunteer, Janice started talking about her up and down battle with depression and how it had ruled her life since she was a teenager. Her classmates nodded sympathetically. Then Troy added that he had been institutionalized while in college and pretty soon each one confessed challenges they had faced in life.
    I had not only lost control, I lost my space in this jumble of sticks that were starting to move into a line. As I sat back and let them talk to one another, I realized that the next big subject we were going to tackle was active listening. I watched them listen to one another, and from habit I looked from one face to another. Every one of them was intently focused on the others. It was awesome, actually.
    They finished and looked at me like kids who were caught. “we’re sorry,” they said.
    “You know,” I mused as they allowed me back in, “this is the first time in 20 years I’ve ever done this, but I’m going to skip the first part of our active listening exercise. What you’ve done here with each other is real, authentic active listening.”
    They beamed.
    It got me to thinking. What lurks in the volunteers’ past? What stories and secrets do they keep locked away until someone gives them permission to turn the key? Does it matter if we know? What doesn’t show up on a background check? That I hate my mother, I’m obsessive compulsive, I am afraid of people with red hair? Will a background check reveal that I have an agenda? Or that I am not a team player?

    Will I watch these volunteers more closely? Honestly, no. I think they represent all volunteers. They just happened to feel comfortable enough with each other to be honest. We all have something that on paper makes us undesirable, but in person makes us honest, vulnerable, human. We want the human volunteers and that’s what we get every day. So, when new volunteers connect with one another, I don’t have to pick up sticks and worry about moving the ones below. They moved each other into a sync that will serve them well when working with our patients and families.
    Their confessions? Safe with me.
    -Meridian

  • Well, This is How it is…

    mathSo I was trying to explain my job recently to a female executive at a chamber dinner. She was sincerely curious as to what volunteer managers really do. As you know, our jobs can’t be explained in a couple of sentences; not really well, anyway. I started off badly, talking about numbers and demographics and motivations. My new friend looked at me blankly. Because I was losing ground fast, I tried talking about motivations and demographics and return on investment. After all, she lived in that world, right? She did want to understand and I am normally not tongue-tied, but here I was, stumbling over theory, slicing my job with a clinician’s knife. It sounded so meaningless and I pictured a trained monkey pointing at a chalkboard. “Oooo oooo aaahh aaahh, volunteer number one, volunteer number two.”
    As she shifted position, I felt myself start to let go of the stats and graphs and the desire to impress and I said, “you know, let me tell you a story.” She leaned forward as I thought of a current volunteer I have the pleasure of working with right now.
    “There’s this volunteer, Sharon,” I relaxed. “She was in a group that I spoke to a couple of years ago. At the time, her husband was critically ill, so she could not volunteer, but she kept one of our brochures in her desk drawer. About a year and a half after her husband died, she was just starting to think about what she could do that held some meaning for her and she happened to look for an old photo album in her desk when she came upon our brochure. Sharon turned that pamphlet over in her hand and felt that was a sign so, brochure in hand, she decided to come and see me. She was hesitant, closed up really. Her words were so heavy that they bent her over as she told me about losing her husband. I wondered if she was ready to do the work, but she was already one thought ahead and she wondered aloud if she could work with terminally ill people, but she had to at least try. As I gently explained that my first priority was to the patients, she looked down and said that she would not put her grief on them. Her painful sincerity made me want to give her a chance.
    Sharon came to training. She sat in the back, said little, but did participate in group exercises. She seemed embarrassed at times, a bit reserved or maybe just wounded. After training I put her with a no-nonsense volunteer who promised to keep an eye on the ‘newbie.’ Sharon started to visit patients in a care center setting, never alone, always with another volunteer.
    She spent many an hour in my worn chair by my desk, talking about what she observed, what she felt and what she couldn’t bring herself to do. It was always apologetic with a nervous tilt of the head. I wondered if this could work. But as the weeks went on, she started to look me in the eye. Sharon began to gingerly speak to family members, ever so humble, ever so timid. They started to tell her things, deeply personal things and she swallowed them up like prescribed medicine. The patients thanked her for listening and she found herself not needing her mentors.
    A few weeks ago she came into my office and sat in the chair. Sharon shared a journal that she had been keeping. She wanted to read her latest entry to me. She wrote, ‘I never thought I would feel worth again, but I feel it now. I feel it the minute I walk in the door. I know I am needed. I had my heart-broken and I feel it beginning to mend. I am really truly helping people and it fills me up with such joy, a joy that I thought could not be mine. I love these people, their stories, their courage, their life experiences, good and bad. I am so glad I decided to take this step. It saved my life.’”
    My new friend, this powerful female executive was listening intently. She nodded, absorbing all the nuances of our job. From recruitment, to screening to placement to cultivation, to motivation, to managing, to the retention, to the personal satisfaction when we see volunteers blossom.
    Sharon is a microcosm of our jobs. Take Sharon and multiply her by all the volunteers you have mentored. Then add in the educational in services, the recognition events, and the speaking in front of staff about volunteer accomplishments. Sprinkle in the remembering of names of children, grandchildren, pets, places they love to vacation, their birthdays and their pet peeves. Throw in a dose of advocating, cleaning up misunderstandings and checking in and re checking in. Mix in those hours spent at home pondering where to put a talented new volunteer and how to gently extract an aging one from a tough job. And don’t forget the tension lifting laughs and antics when a volunteer is down.
    I believe this executive went away with a better sense of volunteer management. I hope she has a new appreciation for all of you.
    I hope she knows that “this is how it is”… and yet, there’s so much more.
    -Meridian

  • The Frustrated Stepping Stone

    stepping stoneJules is one of seven volunteer coordinators at a hospice that boasts over 1200 volunteers. She loves her job, loves the pairing of volunteers with patients and duties, and loves developing volunteer talent.
    She’s excited to go to work each day and is sparked by researched ideas on recruiting volunteers. Like the best paper towel out there, she soaks up helpful information from her many sites on the internet.
    So, what could possibly bother this exemplary coordinator? For the past few years, there has been turnover in the volunteer services department where she works. Coordinators have taken the job while seeking a better degree or while studying for certification in another field or while garnering experience to “move ahead.” As another volunteer coordinator, Nicole’s going away party wound down, Jules found herself chatting with a senior manager, who glibly stated, “Isn’t it great about Nicole completing her BSN? It’s so nice to see people advance.” Jules smiled but inside she felt a twinge of discontent. She thought back to how Nicole would study at times, would forget volunteers’ names and when it became apparent that she would be graduating, Nicole pretty much stopped assigning volunteers. That left Jules to answer volunteer’s questions, attend meetings and continue programs. At first she didn’t mind, because she liked Nicole, but Nicole was the fourth volunteer coordinator to step over everyone in the department to advance.

    Jules sighed. “I wish I had said to the senior manager, ‘when all these people go to school to advance, that’s really great for them but that leaves me picking up their slack. Even when they are here physically, their minds are preoccupied with upcoming exams, or scary job interviews. Just because I chose to give my all to this job, does that make me any less a professional or capable of advancement? Is my area just a temporary one and because I love what I do, does that make me a dupe? Should I just get with the program and plan on using my time here to get somewhere else? Is volunteer management just a stepping stone?”
    Jules started to rethink her choices. She felt she had found her calling, and she had some great ideas and plans for the future. But, she wondered, does everyone think of volunteer services as just an entry level job?
    So, Jules had a heart to heart talk with the volunteer director, a woman she admired and hopes to one day replace. She voiced her concern that volunteer coordinators using the position to personally advance were not only hurting the department, but were also placing too much extra work on her as well. To her surprise and relief, the volunteer director had already noticed the trend. She promised to hold each coordinator accountable for their work load and promised to watch out for Jules’ enabling tendency. She wisely pointed out that Jules was the real leader of the team, the trainer, the inspirational guru and told Jules that upon retirement, she would insist Jules be made director.
    The talk helped Jules to feel better. After all, the thrill of seeing a volunteer succeed under her guidance trumps title any day. But still, the image of a leaving coordinator getting feted for advancing haunts her just a little bit.
    “I love this job.” She says firmly. “I just wish the worth of what I do would be recognized.”
    -Meridian

  • Curiosity Does Not Always Kill the Cat

    curiosity-killed-the-cat_o_420039 I’m a curious person. Ok, my family says I’m downright nosey, but I think we volunteer managers have a real natural curious streak in us.

    One of the senior managers who went to a symposium (you know, where the information is so cutting edge), came back with a brilliant idea. (or so the person selling their product said). The idea is to have standard questions when interviewing volunteers. These questions have been thoroughly researched and are guaranteed to give us insight into the volunteers’ unwitting brains.

    Hmmm, I thought. Could this magic solution be the answer? Would it weed out the agenda driven, lawsuit creating nutcase while highlighting the cautious, yet perfect, stay with us forever while working 60 hours per week volunteer?  I thought, “why not”, so I took the questions and tried them out. Here’s how an interview went with a prospective volunteer, Ed:

    Me, smiling:  Why do you feel you would be a good fit for this organization?

    Ed: I want to help.

    Me, reading from the slick page of questions: How would you describe yourself as a volunteer?

    Ed: I’m someone who wants to help.

    Me, straightening my shirt, still reading: Where do you envision yourself as a volunteer in the next, say year?

    Ed: Actually helping people.

    Me, squirming a bit: Have you ever been asked to leave an organization you volunteered for?

    Ed: No.

    Me, squinting at the page: In other volunteer jobs, what would you describe as your biggest accomplishment?

    Ed: I helped a lot of people.

    Me, skipping questions now: What would you do if we did not accept you as a volunteer?

    Ed: I’d be disappointed, because I want to volunteer here, but I’d go somewhere else to help people.

    Me, scanning the page: What interests you about volunteering for our organization?

    Ed: The chance to help someone.

    Me, a bead of sweat forming above my eyebrow: What do you think could possibly make you stop volunteering here?

    Ed: I suppose if I didn’t think I was helping anyone.

    Me, putting the paper and formality aside: Ed, tell me a little about yourself.

    Ed told me about his career path, his years playing college football, his long marriage to his college sweetheart and her untimely death. He told me about his children, his neighborhood, his love of writing and his military service. He told me that his parents raised him to think of others and how they would make him and his brother do volunteer work as teens. Ed talked about his work as a plant supervisor, and how the men and women he managed were his heroes.  He spoke about one man who worked for him, who took in and adopted three disabled children. He wistfully said that he never encountered a happier family. He told me that his father, an immigrant from Poland, grew up dirt poor, but managed to work enough to put both sons through college. He chuckled when talking about how his mother would make pierogis and red cabbage for the retired school teacher down the street so that she would tutor Ed’s brother in math. He said that, now that he was retired, he’d really like to put his time to good use and help people.

    We talked about how he envisioned his volunteer work and funny, it meshed completely with my vision of him as a volunteer. We talked about finding the right spot for him, and I told him that he was exactly the type of person we were looking for. I felt the kind of comfort with Ed that you feel when you open the pages of a favorite novel. Now that the “interview” portion was over,  we talked about his writings and I found out that Ed enjoyed helping people tell their stories. I asked him if he could see himself doing that with our patients and families and he said that he could. Maybe, then, I suggested to him, we have a way to incorporate your interests with your volunteering. He said he would be glad to try. He just really wanted to help.

    I think we both felt a connection, not through measured questions, but through exploration and old-fashioned nosiness. I felt like we were chatting across a garden fence, coffee cups in hand. I think he will be a great volunteer.

    And, oh, I forgot one question from the crafted list: If you had to pick one positive aspect about yourself, what would that be?

    I’ll bet money that Ed would not have answered, “I have many positive aspects and facets and I am a person with rich interests, skills and talents and I genuinely want to help someone else.” So, being the curious type, I answered for him.

    -Meridian

  • Gooooooooo Team! Beeeeeeeeee Childish!

    LoserIt’s great when people act like a team, right? They back each other up, stick up for each other, etc. But what if that team acts like a bunch of 3 year-olds?

    There’s a volunteer coordinator, Maya, who told me this story recently. She works for a large Non-profit that helps abused women.

    Each year, her organization sponsors a huge public event, and each department of her organization hosts a “game table” for attendees to stop by, play a game, win prizes and learn about that department. Maya scrambles to find dozens of highly qualified volunteers to help at the event, from the planning, to execution.

    This year, Maya did not assign a volunteer to the financial department’s table. At the event, they panicked and told her they had put in the standard request for a volunteer weeks before. Maya admits that could be true, but she never got it. So, thirty minutes before the event, Maya had to reassign a volunteer to their table and Maya filled in for that volunteer in another area.

    Afterwards, Maya profusely apologized to the finance manager. She pointed out that she works off of formal requests, and that they should have checked in with her and inquired about their assigned volunteer instead of waiting until the day of the event, but she also said she was sorry she did not check in with them as well.

    The finance manager coolly accepted her apology. The manager complained that the volunteer reassigned to them was rather new and a bit reticent to help.

    “Here’s the crazy part,” Maya said. “Every one in the financial department now is giving me the cold shoulder, even the ones who weren’t at the event! I say hi in the hall and they look away. If I have to turn in reports, they hardly even look at me. It’s like working with a bunch of three-year olds.”

    “Have you mentioned this to your supervisor?” I asked.

    “Yeah, and he just rolled his eyes, so I’m on my own. It makes me so angry that I jump every time they need a volunteer and the one time I don’t produce, they act like that. How unprofessional and frankly, ridiculous.”

    “How did the rest of the event go?” I asked.

    “Great, everything worked out well, the volunteers had a great time, the rest of the staff was very pleased. Yeah, it went well.” I could hear the frustration in her voice.

    Interesting how the good part of that event is greatly diminished by the hurt Maya feels due to the financial department’s childish behavior. In her mind, her hard work is being eclipsed by the one glitch which may not even be her fault but is taped to her like a child’s drawing.

    It’s intolerable that childish behavior be ignored in non-profits. Is it because non-profits are populated with people-pleasers and non-confrontational (aka stab you in the back) types? Or is it because the volunteer department is an easy target and typically on the dirty bottom of the pecking order?

    Is it really because volunteer managers typically do their job, give credit to the volunteers, are inherently team players and do not live in the world of drama? Do volunteer managers abhor childish behavior because they do not engage in it?

    I think the very traits that are needed to succeed at volunteer management can sometimes set us up to be hurt when staff act like 3 year olds. It pains me that Maya, who is a fantastic volunteer coordinator remembers the hurt more than the success. Will she childishly retaliate? No, she’s not a drama queen.

    Volunteers are extra help to our organizations and to staff. They roll up their sleeves and make adjustments for the good of the cause. It’s a pity there are staff who can’t do the same.

    -Meridian

  • Don’t Quit! I Might Have a Relapse!

    relapse pictureI have a long distance friend, Marla who is a volunteer coordinator for a large hospice organization.  She called me a while back and we chatted about one of her fellow volunteer coordinators, Amy. See, Marla fills in for Amy when she is on vacation and vice versa. They each manage about 80 volunteers in their respective areas. We all know that adding another full load, even for a week, is exhausting, but having to fit within another coordinator’s style can sometimes be, well, frustrating.

    Marla and Amy had back to back vacations, Amy first. Here’s what Marla told me happened.

    “I stopped in everyday to check on the volunteers,” Marla said. “And each day was the same story. The volunteers welcomed me, but with phrases like, ‘it’s so good to see Amy get some much-needed rest, she is so stressed out,’ or ‘we are worried about Amy, she’s works so hard and then she has to worry about her ailing mother and her sister doesn’t help out at all.’” Marla barked a laugh. “Ha, Amy doesn’t have a bigger load than anyone here, and sometimes I have a harder time finding volunteers, given my location. It’s frustrating.”

    Marla sighed, and covered the mouthpiece. “oh, and get this! One of the volunteers even said to me, ‘you know, I was going to retire, but I just can’t let Amy down. She has a stress related condition and she’s got so much to worry about with her son struggling financially.’”

    I could hear Marla chewing her pencil. “Amy has mentioned that she has had some medical issues in the past, but jeez, never once did the volunteers ask about me or my volunteers or anything else for that matter. They seemed to be a little, I hate to say it, cult-like.”

    Well. What an interesting management style. Marla continued, “you know, it was on the tip of my tongue to say something like, ‘hey, we’re all busy and Amy is just playing you to make you stay.” Then she chuckled. “Maybe we all should use that on our volunteers. If you quit, you’ll put me in the hospital!”

    Are volunteers more impressionable than paid staff? Maybe. I suppose it depends upon their reasons for volunteering and their personalities. Is it wrong to manipulate them? Of course. Volunteers should not know much about our personal lives, and certainly, not all that is going wrong or perceived to go wrong. As volunteer managers, our boundaries need to be pretty clearly defined.

    “Oh, and get this!” Marla added. “I went on vacation, thank goodness after covering for Amy and she then covered for me. I worked really hard on making sure that all volunteers were in place, all information up to date, so that it wouldn’t be hard for her to manage while I was gone.” Marla paused. “so, I get back on Monday and when I checked in with the very first volunteer, guess what she said?”

    “Welcome back?” I offered.

    “No, she did say they missed me, but she also said that Amy seemed overwhelmed by the additional work and they had to work a little extra to help her.”

    “Then,” Marla dropped the punchline, “MY volunteer asked me, ‘Did you know Amy has a stress related condition’?”

    Hmmmmm. When retention becomes a problem, I may have to try the Amy management style!

    -Meridian

  • Wading through Quicksand

    quicksandBelinda started volunteering for a large animal shelter five years ago. Early retired from a fast-paced corporate world, she threw herself into her passion: Rescuing the abused and abandoned. An ideal volunteer, she learned the system, absorbing the organization’s mission, needs and goals through her skin and into her mind and heart.

    Then she began. She created a “speaker’s bureau” complete with accompanying rescued pooches. She initiated a “corporate partnership” with local pet businesses. She recruited hard-working volunteers and took over the social media job.

    She was nominated and won a state award. (Which we all know is often the kiss of death for a volunteer)

    So, in the natural order of things, what could come next? When a job opened up, Belinda was hired. Boy, was she happy, because now, she could do more good work, right? And now the shelter had her enthusiasm for 40 or more hours per week. Bliss, pure and simple?

    Maybe in a perfect world. Belinda became the “volunteer coordinator” and she was expected to “perform the math.”  (Organizational Math: if 8 hours per week volunteering=a whole bunch of great things, then 40 hours per week working=OMG, mind-blowing results!)

    Well, the volunteer coordinator role set in. Paperwork, restrictions, and piddly duties like mediation, recognition, retention, arbitration, record keeping, statistics, training, monitoring, education and rehabilitation of volunteers started to chip away at that 40 hours. The math no longer looked that good. (40 hours of volunteer management minus all the “stuff we have to do”=42 minutes of brilliance per week).

    Belinda soon became just another staff member. Staff members are not “loved up” the way volunteer managers love up the volunteers. Staff members are not, in most cases told how “special’ they are, nor welcomed with a huge smile each time they enter the building. Appreciation of Belinda, the staff member was not the warm and fuzzy appreciation of Belinda the exceptional volunteer.

    Belinda started seeing the organization from within. Since, as a volunteer, she was sheltered from the staff’s bickering over funding, she started to see staff members in a different light and realized they were not the angels she had come to love.

    Reality was painful. For a couple of years, she trudged on, spending time off the clock where her heart lie; in free creation mode. She mentored other volunteers well, because she still was one in her heart. Deadlines replaced dreams. Mandates trumped motivations. Stats pushed spontaneity to the side. Belinda told me that she felt as though she were wading through quicksand, whereas when she volunteered, she glided.

    She quit one day, not because of some monumental injustice, but when the weight had crushed her enough. She did not go back to volunteering, but stayed away from the shelter she loved so much as a volunteer.

    I’m not saying that we should never hire volunteers. I’m not even saying that we shouldn’t treat them special and shield them from the minutia. I’m saying that volunteer to employee transitions are tough and eye-opening. Maybe these transitions are the stark examples of how much effort volunteer managers put into managing volunteers. We make them feel appreciated, special, and insulated from the tedium so that they can excel. Too bad most employees can’t feel that way.

    In my fantasy world, organizational management, for just one moment, will look at how volunteer managers nurture the volunteers to get the very best from them. Then organizational management will think about adopting some of our practices in order to nurture and encourage employees.

    And in my fantasy world, they will start with us.

    -Meridian

  • Toughest Job Ever? Part Time Volunteer Manager

    Yesterday I went to a nursing home that specializes in memory impaired residents and met with the activities director/part time volunteer manager (PTVM). PTVM’s have the additional burden of the time constraints their other “more important” jobs put upon them. For them, volunteer management becomes secondary, less important and although they realize the gravity of managing volunteers, they do not have the resources or the support to effectively do that part of their job. They are stuck doing the best they can.

    Jolie, the PTVM was a bundle of energy and I kept looking around for a straw to maybe suck out some of that enthusiasm and run home with it. All around were cute games and activities and she breathlessly told me about the “one man band” and the “reading genie” and the “pet pig Porkita” that were scheduled for the week. As I helped her round up and board some of the residents in the facility van, she told me about her vacation last week. “It’s really horrible when I go away, especially for a whole week.” she confided, “the staff just doesn’t bother to follow up with the volunteers, even though I leave them detailed instructions.” Jolie went on, “I had this new volunteer scheduled to come in and start, but no one here was willing to show her what to do, so she left. She’s not returned my calls.”

    As Jolie helped Ms. Eva, a real sweetie with a big smile up into the van, she added, “and my best volunteer, Sonya the songstress, whom everyone loves, showed up and there were only 3 residents brought into the great room.” Jolie sighed, “when I’m not here to head it up, no one bothers. It’s disheartening.”

    I just listened as Ralph with the cowboy hat took my arm and let me help him up. I wanted to say that it would get better, but who would I be kidding? Not Jolie, who has been doing this for years. She knows full well that being a PTVM requires full time attention with minimal time. And she knows that staff will leave everything involving volunteers to her. When Jolie is not there, the volunteers are on their own.

    How many times does senior management wonder why volunteers need management at all? How often do they sigh and wonder what we all do each day? After all, volunteers need no management, they are really like the copier or the laptop, no? Turn them on and they produce, right?

    Folks like Jolie will never be able to have the stable of volunteers they need. Jolie, who is a great volunteer manager will never be able to give her volunteer program the attention she’d love to give because she doesn’t have the time, nor the backing. She will continue to struggle and her residents will be denied all the wonderful programs and ideas she has rattling around in her already stuffed brain.

    What does Jolie really need? First and foremost, she needs leadership that makes volunteer management everyone’s job. (See Susan Ellis’ profoundly right on target book, “From the Top Down” https://www.energizeinc.com/store/1-102-E-3 ) She needs to know that the time she spends with each volunteer is not socializing or shirking her real responsibilities; it is necessary time retaining that volunteer.  She needs to feel supported in her visions. And she needs administrative help. (Don’t we all?)

    As Jolie waved to me from her perch in that huge van, her smile radiated resolve. PTVMs are resourceful, hard working and committed. Until volunteer management is viewed as a complex profession, no one will really know what Jolie goes through to attract and keep her volunteers. No one, but us.

    -Meridian

  • Little Shop of Horrors

    little shop of horrorsBette is a volunteer who works in a large resale shop. She came to me the other day asking for my help because she had no one to turn to. It seems the shop manager, a paid employee, has been, in Bette words, “bullying the volunteers.” She said it took a lot for her to seek help but the other volunteers are looking to her to fix the atmosphere. Unfortunately, the resale shop’s parent organization has no volunteer managers, so there is no one to run interference for the volunteers. The shop manager has no experience working with volunteers; she has retail experience working with employees. And therein lies the problem.

    Can “regular” staff work well with volunteers?  Sure, I’ve seen it happen many a time. There are employees who respect their volunteers, praise them, look out for them, and make them feel a valued part of the team. They keep their volunteers coming back and seldom have problems with them. Usually, though, they work with just a few part-time volunteers. Then there’s Bette’s shop manager, Carey, who treats her volunteers like bottom of the rung employees. Behind their backs she calls them “lazy” or “incompetent” while failing to encourage them. They are about to revolt.

    Bette reluctantly handed me a piece of paper. On it she had penned a resale volunteer’s list of rights. It took her hours to compose it. I thought it profound and well done. Here it is:

    As a  volunteer who freely gives of my time and abilities, I should be:

    1. greeted sincerely at the beginning of my shift and at the end and told what a good job I did.

    2. treated with the utmost respect and sincerely thanked for my contributions.

    3. made aware that the organization is proud of the work I do and grateful for my service.

    4. able to freely express my concerns without being made to feel as though I am a nuisance.

    5. considered an integral member of the team and a component of the organization’s overall mission.

    Bette loves her work and her shop. She has bonded with the other volunteers and wants them to succeed as a team. She is willing to stand up to make that happen. And what she really, really wants, is to be managed by someone who understands how to manage volunteers.

    -Meridian