Meg is a volunteer coordinator for a large health care system that specializes in patient rehabilitation. Her volunteers are involved in several programs, from spiritual care, and palliative listening to working with dementia patients. Meg is the lead volunteer coordinator with twelve years of experience. Recently, the marketing department contacted Meg and told her that they wanted “some volunteers” to be filmed in a short infomercial.
“They didn’t give me a date nor time and place,” she said. “I emailed them repeatedly for concrete directions, but I never got an answer. Finally, one of the marketing staff. Gwen, came down at 4pm on a Wednesday and said they were ready to shoot Friday at 9am in our location. What do you need? I asked her and she told me they wanted volunteers working with a mock patient in a rehab room.”
Meg sighed. “Gwen did however ask for our pet therapy volunteer, Sam, who owns Polo, a beautiful golden retriever. Gwen told me she loved that dog and how beautiful the dog would look on camera. So, I spent most of my Thursday pleading with volunteers to come to the shoot.”
Meg paused. “You know how volunteers are. The don’t want to be on camera. But I got six volunteers, including Sam to agree to come in and be filmed.
Friday came and I arrived early,” Meg continued. “I had fruit and coffee set up for the volunteers. They began arriving, Sam and Polo, Jerri who does amazing work journal keeping with patients, Clive and Betty, a couple who sing to patients, Jeravani, an international student who is studying physical therapy and Amelia, a volunteer who specializes in art. They were a great mix of volunteers. I gave a lot of thought to how volunteers would present on camera and I have to admit, this was a diverse group of excellent representatives. I was thinking the infomercial might encourage others to volunteer.”
Meg went on, “9 arrived and we waited and then 9:30 and still we waited. I could see the volunteers checking their watches. They had places to be. At about 10, Gwen found us and said they were ready to start filming. Biting my tongue, I stood up and waved my hand over the group of fantastic volunteers sipping coffee and started to introduce them, but she stopped me and very nonchalantly said that the crew was behind schedule and that there was only time for, as she put it, ‘the dog shot.’”
I could feel the anger and frustration in Meg’s voice and she went on, “I looked at Gwen, stunned. I motioned for her to join me outside the room, out of earshot of the volunteers. You mean our volunteers came in for nothing? And Gwen basically said, ‘we don’t have time for any extra shots because we already have more than enough. Sorry, just tell them thank you and maybe another time.’”
Meg snorted an angry laugh. “yeah, I wanted to say, why don’t YOU tell them and why don’t YOU apologize profusely and why don’t YOU waste half a day trying to cajole people for nothing? No, you get to walk away, damage done and think nothing of it.” Meg stopped to take a breath. “It just makes me so angry!”
Meg recharged. “Then, get this! Sam and Polo? Oh yeah, after I say goodbye and sorry to all the other volunteers, I find Sam and Polo in a mock-up patient room and one of the crew is being filmed holding Polo’s leash! I lost it. I went to Gwen and demanded to know what was going on. She kinda shrugged and said that the film crew set it up that way so for once in my life I stood my ground and said no. I told her that if Sam was not in the shot, then I was going to send them home. I was so mad, I didn’t care.”
I could feel the anger balloon about to burst. “Gwen intervened though and Sam was filmed with Polo. So, at least I won a minor battle.”
Then Meg grew philosophical, the way long time volunteer managers grow. “I wish our volunteers were given the same respect as others in our hospital system. No one would waste the CEO’s time. No one would be so cavalier about marketing’s time. But volunteers? They are a commodity. It’s wrong, just wrong. Although, it did feel so good to stand up for Sam. In fact, it felt great.”
Meg’s voice changed, lifted somehow. “In fact, I think I’ll start doing that more.” The old spark in her voice returned. “Yeah, stand up for what’s right, what do I have to lose? And, maybe, just maybe, I’ll stop being the clean up crew.”
-Meridian
Tag: organizations
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The Disaster Clean Up Crew
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If Volunteering Were an Olympic Sport
I arrived in Sochi, Russia, thrilled to be part of the world’s greatest sporting showcase. Stepping out of the cab at the Olympic village, I asked one of the official guides where I could find the volunteer events. He scratched his puzzled head, grunted, “Huh?” and checked his elaborate map. He spent several minutes consulting a static Russian voice on his enormous mobile phone. While he shouted into the contraption, I soaked in the palpable excitement of the noisy Olympic crowd filtering by. I was giddy with anticipation. Finally, the world would see the wonderfulness of our volunteers.
He got off the phone and showed me his map, drawing an X on an empty white spot. “There, you go there,” he said, then handed me the map and walked away. I followed the map, weaving my way in and out of colorful vendors and beautiful buildings until I was in an open field beyond the bustle of Olympic village. There, in the middle of the snowy field was a small industrial building with a hand-made sign that read, “Volympics”.
Gleefully, I entered the building. There were maybe a few dozen people scattered about on folding chairs. Family members, no doubt. I nodded to some folks sharing a bag of potato chips as I settled into my seat.
The first event was the “Booth Freestyle.” Team Major Illness Awareness and Team Animal Rescue had 10 minutes to sort through the enormous pile of random items piled in a corner of the building. The teams had to find a table, table cover and everything necessary to set up a booth showcasing their organization at a fictitious fair. You could feel the tension in the room, or maybe it was the lack of a bathroom nearby. The teams appeared. Team Major Illness Awareness looked nervously at Team Animal Rescue. Each four member team gripped the side rails and waited for the shot signaling the start. They sprinted or walked quickly, really into the arena, attacking the pile like I attack my closet after over sleeping. Finding the items they wanted, each team began to set up an attractive booth. Team Major Illness Awareness settled into making a giant macaroni sign on a poster board, their deft hands glueing the pasta into a giant heart shape. The captain of Team Animal Rescue shouted encouragement as the team stuck animal stickers to the tablecloth while drawing a huge smiling elephant on a white board.
An element of difficulty was added when several Olympic judges, simulating organizational staff walked by shouting “hurry up” and refusing to answer questions. Team Major Illness Awareness arranged give away pens in the shape of a pancreas while team Animal Rescue created paw prints out of jar grippers. The clock ticked away the time and the crowd shouted “three, two, one” and the buzzer sounded. The judges conferred and awarded points for artistic interpretation as well as speed. It was close but team Animal Rescue pulled it out by putting up a cute picture of their Executive Director being nipped by a rescued chihuahua.
I pulled out a granola bar while waiting for the next event. Office Downhill was an individual competition involving stuffing envelopes, data entry and filing. Rickety metal cabinets were wheeled into the arena while an old desk, obsolete computer and a mountain of flyers and envelopes on a card table were dragged into a corner. The first competitor, Museum Guide stepped confidently into the arena. She was given five files, a handful of data entry forms, and no instructions. When her time started, she ran to the file cabinets first, checking the names on the files, quickly sorting them into alphabetical order. She exuded confidence and I suspected she was a volunteer leader at home. She grabbed the file cabinet drawer and pulled but it would not open. It was locked! Panicked, she looked around then wisely searched for a key, finding it taped to the back of the cabinet. After expertly filing the information, she ran to the computer and pushed the button. It sputtered and slowly whirred, so she ran to the table and started stuffing envelopes while the computer booted. Her fingers expertly flew through the pile of flyers, and she ran back to the computer and finished entering the data. The time posted was 12:56:01. Hers was the time to beat. The next competitor, Thrift Store Volunteer, didn’t fare as well. She pulled so hard on the locked file cabinet that it fell over. She managed to complete the other two tasks, but was penalized for folding the flyers face out. The third competitor, Soup Kitchen Volunteer managed to find the cabinet key but shoved all the files into one drawer. He stuffed the envelopes cleanly, but ended up spilling the cold cup of coffee left by the judges on the computer desk. The data was soaked brown and unreadable. The fourth competitor, Hospital Gift Shop Volunteer, took one look at the scene, threw up her hands and said she never did office work in her life. And the final competitor, Youth Mentor Volunteer sped through the course, but got so frustrated with the lumbering computer that he threw it on the floor, therefore being disqualified. The dozen of us in the crowd cheered wildly for all the competitors as they took a bow. We waited in anticipation for the results. Obviously Museum Guide Volunteer was the winner, but the judges conferred and decided to give it to Soup Kitchen Volunteer because he was willing to work on a Saturday night.
The medal ceremony consisted of a nice lunch for all the volunteers with a speech telling them how important they were to their respective organizations. I didn’t get the opportunity to speak to the volunteers, but I’m thinking that they were pretty great people who took their volunteering seriously.
I left Sochi with renewed enthusiasm for volunteers and their incredible depth of talent. I think for a first Volympics, it was pretty good. I’m encouraged, because I heard some officials discussing the next one, and they are thinking about adding the De-Luge event, where volunteer managers are overwhelmed with requests, questions, tasks, phone calls, email, drop-ins, paperwork, problems, and spreadsheets. I may start training tomorrow.
-Meridian -
First, Do No Harm
A prospective volunteer, Judy came to one of my orientations last month. She eagerly embraced the topics, participated in class and repeatedly told me how much she “owed” us for caring for her husband. She is passionate, ready to work and a strong woman. She and her husband owned a business that she now shares with her children. She has artistic abilities, is educated, well spoken and incredibly smart. She is that volunteer we dream about when we’re not having a nightmare that all the unfinished work has fused together into a giant smiling clown with a pillow and is suffocating us in our sleep. (You do have that dream, too, don’t you?)
I spent a good two hours with her one on one in a private interview a week after classes ended. We talked about her abilities and talents, her ideas and plans to help and all the folks in her business circle she knows that she can enlist to help too. So, what could possibly be wrong with this perfect volunteer?
Did you guess she’s moving? Nope. Did you guess she’s really crazy? Nope again.
Although we spent time talking about all those wonderful things, we spent 90% of the time talking about her husband’s illness and death. He died four years ago and to our credit, we took wonderful care of him. Judy passionately talked about losing a husband so early in life, the shock, the quickness of the rare disease, the legal issues surrounding a business and a lone position in life with friends encouraging “getting back in the dating game.” She had already started a support group on Facebook, has reached out to the community for research funds and would love to be able to help other young widows. Her ideas are lofty, her desire to help of the highest noble thoughts. Her energy is infectious and I wanted to reach into my drawer and pull out my checkbook.
Our conversation reminded me of John Walsh, the host of the TV show, “America’s Most Wanted.” Mr. Walsh began his crusade after his son, Adam was brutally murdered. It’s what experts call instrumental grieving, the throwing of oneself into a cause. It’s truly amazing to watch someone do that, to see their resolve, to feel their calling. These people are remarkable. They turn despair and tragedy into benefits for the rest of us. I know if my husband were to fall ill to that disease that took Judy’s husband, I would want her coaching me.
But, I cannot, in good conscience, put Judy with patients, family members or the bereaved. It matters not that she really, really, really wants to help. It matters not that she is full of passion and energy. But it does matter that in the three times we’ve talked, everything always comes back to her experience.
I’ve witnessed raw, unrelenting grief before. I’ve seen potential volunteers so fired up that they speak in a machine gun volley that shoots down every thought that does not apply to their situation. I’ve watched eager people grasp onto volunteering like a life-preserver in a sea of molten pain. I feel for them, because, just like every other volunteer, I get to know them and to know these volunteers is to know heartache. I so want to help them work through their grief, but my first loyalty is to the clients at hand. And they need volunteers who are sound, mostly healed, or at least healed enough to put aside their own lives.
And so, as the conversation wound down, Judy looked at me and breathlessly asked, “do you think I can do this?”
“Not yet,” I answered truthfully. See, I’ve learned over the course of so many years that it’s much kinder to be honest. Then I added, “I’m thinking that you will be wonderful with our patients and families one day and we are incredibly fortunate to have you. Right now, I hear some hurt and we don’t want this work to add to your hurt. You’ve been through so much.”
“I know. It still hurts and I trust your judgement.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I just need to help.” I could see the dam about to break but she quickly stuck another emotional patch on the crack that threatened to burst.
What a burden to trust me, I thought selfishly. I’m fallible, running on instinct and gut. I want to be wrong about you, to just let you come in and get whole again.
Here’s where volunteer management is on a whole other level from standard HR. Just like HR, we have jobs to fill and we head hunt for the best people for the job. But we don’t reject people. We don’t pick and choose. We try to find a place for everyone, and it takes hard work to find places for everyone. I will find a place for Judy. We will start small and away from the clients. I want to see her succeed as a volunteer and to mend her deep wounds. It will take time, observation, mentoring and caution. That’s what I signed up to do.
But first, I will do no harm, not to Judy and not to our clients.
-Meridian -
Mother, May I?
When Eve was approached by a college looking to extend a grant to a volunteer group, she was ecstatic. Working for an organization that conducts health screenings in impoverished places, she already knew that her medical volunteers needed updated equipment. Excitedly, she described the grant during her next departmental volunteer manager meeting. Everyone read the guidelines and offered verbiage for procuring the funds. Eve submitted the grant and the college announced her organization as their grant recipient.
Buoyed, she came into work the next Monday to find an invitation for a mandatory meeting with her boss and the fund-raising arm of the organization. Puzzled, she grabbed a notepad and hurried to the meeting. There, she was harshly reprimanded for “going out on her own” and “not going through the proper channels” to procure the grant. She was told in no uncertain terms that finding funds was not part of her job description and the next time she did anything like that, she would be written up. She doesn’t remember anything said about creativity, initiative or thinking outside the box.
Eve was devastated. She thought that by telling her boss, she had by proxy, informed everyone she needed to. Her boss thought that Eve had already informed the proper folks in the fund-raising department.
Eve felt betrayed. She couldn’t fathom how something so wonderful could be viewed as something negative, so she sought out her good friend and mentor, Rosalyn, who used to work in her department but retired a year ago. Rosalyn listened and nodded. “I’m really sorry that happened to you,” she said, “but I’m not surprised. It happened to me a long time ago and I learned a valuable lesson from it. When you’re dealing with non-profit types, you not only have to follow all the rules, you have to understand that these are people who deal in feelings everyday. And so it is natural that their own feelings come into play.”
Eve was skeptical. “You’re saying that I hurt their feelings?”
“In a sense. You hurt their feelings, usurped their power, stepped into their area, you name it, that’s how they perceived it.”
“But I did something to help. They weren’t going to write for that grant.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’ve got to realize, they are under a lot of pressure. Your organization can’t function without donations.”
“But,” Eve interjected, “we can’t run without volunteers.”
“True, but if fund-raisers started recruiting volunteers, how would you feel? Would you feel like they are helping you?”
“No,” Eve admitted. “I’d be worried about my job.”
“So, can you see how they felt?”
“I guess so,” Eve said. “But then, that means if I find something outside of my job description that would actually help my organization, I just have to pass it up?”
“No, not necessarily. You just have to adopt the Mother, May I principle.”
“I think I know where this is going.”
“Yes, you do, and that’s how I survived my tenure with all the other departments. Let me tell you a typical path I took to get a project going.”
“Please, because you started so many projects there.”
“Well, let’s say I was approached by a student group wanting to volunteer to do some media publicity for us. This would be my plan of action. First, I would meet with the students and thoroughly get all their intentions on paper. I would make sure that the verbiage I used with them always included maybe, perhaps, we’ll see, if it can be done, I make no promises, etc. Then I would go to my boss and explain the idea and ask permission to go higher up. I would follow that conversation with an email outlining what we discussed. I then would make an appointment with the proper decision maker, invite my boss to the meeting and present an outline of the project. I would include all the benefits to all the departments as well. Now here’s the tricky part. In that meeting, I would use the verbiage, if you think, we could use your buy in, we need your help to succeed, and I would offer to let them consider it and get back with me. I would tell them that they would be informed every step of the way and could pull the plug at any time.”
“Mother, May I.”
“Yes, it worked most of the time. It’s really just common courtesy blended with concrete and clear information. That’s the key.”
“But it’s so time-consuming, so, so, demeaning. I mean, don’t they trust me?”
“That has nothing to do with it. They need to know what is going on at all times. Secretly, I think they were glad that I was doing all the legwork for these projects. The more I kept them informed, the more autonomy I had. It was a win-win for everyone.”
“But didn’t you hate babying all those people?”
“Aha! No, because you have to look at it as approaching them in the way that works for them. You still get what you set out to get. Don’t you already do that with volunteers?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“I know it’s time-consuming and it takes an attitude of humility. If you run up to them and shout, ‘hey, I’ve got the best idea ever and you should thank me for bringing it up,’ you’re not going to gather many supporters. And going it alone, even when you have something wonderful to offer can create friction. I once created an event on my own time that benefited the organization. No one was thrilled, in fact they were peeved. I was viewed as trying to bring down their event castle so to speak, so no help or acknowledgement came my way. Be humble and mindful of their areas of power. It’s like you are knocking on the door of their castle instead of getting out the catapult to bust in. That way, they open the door and invite you in. There’s no benefit to making enemies of the people you work with, right?”
“Uh huh. Mother, May I. Knock, and ask.”
“Oh, and one other thing. Bring flowers.”
-Meridian -
Name That Theme!
Ahhh themes. This week I have three themed get togethers for volunteers. Holidays are the easiest themes, because they are well, holidays, so yay, it’s a no brainer. The stores are full of holiday stuff to buy, maybe just pick a color or an elf or cute peppermint candy. “Brain, deactivate, the Dollar Store has it all in control!”
It’s the rest of the year that gets so hard. There’s the annual luncheon. There’s volunteer appreciation week. And then there are meetings, educational in-services, celebrations, nominations etc. Food becomes second nature. I can whip out a pot of coffee, hot chocolate, and a plate of yummy cookies with my eyes closed and my brain wandering into that little boutique window I saw on the way over. I even have a cute apron that says, (don’t laugh) “I’m serving YOU this time.” Clever, huh?
But every time there’s an event, it means figuring out what to call it, what to decorate with and what to say that ties it all in together. And what a lovely plethora of themes to choose from. You think LOL Cats is too cute? Let’s just look at some of our more common volunteer themes and the inexpensive ways we can decorate:
There’s “VOLUNTEERS, THE HEART OF (insert your organization)”. Hearts are great. If you get them after Valentine’s Day, they are really cheap. And we all learned how to cut out hearts in kindergarten, so this is an easy one.
There’s “VOLUNTEERS, OUR SHINING STARS”. Also a pretty easy one. There’s five-pointed stars to tape to the ceiling or you can staple clip art shooting stars all over the walls. My favorite is using movies stars. If you have a tween daughter, you can borrow posters of Justin Bieber or Katy Perry which costs nothing but then you’re living with an angry adolescent and it might take some bribery to make her happy again.
There’s “VOLUNTEERS, OUR TREASURES”. I’ve seen some pretty interesting attempts at treasure chests. But this is a good theme if you have a lot of junk, fake jewelry around that you can scatter about the tables. If you’ve made a trip to Mardi Gras and gotten tons of beads for doing things you regretted the next morning, this is the theme for you.
How about “VOLUNTEERING, A WORK OF HEART”. This clever play on words means you can put up random pictures of art work cut from that $1 art history book bought at a thrift store or you can raid your refrigerator door for some child art. Either way, it’s pretty cheesy so don’t plan on inviting the CEO.
“VOLUNTEERS ARE THE DIFFERENCE”. Tough one, but you can get free pictures of before and after pictures out of magazines. There’s a lot of before and after pictures of face lifts, so you can showcase the incredible results on the walls. If a volunteer should ask why you chose pictures of face lifts, you can slyly say that “Volunteers give us a lift.”
“VOLUNTEERS, A WORLD OF CARING”. Globes and atlases are fairly expensive so you might need to visit your local chamber for some free maps. That, and you can always swipe your son’s solar system science project for some additional punch.
“OUR VOLUNTEERS ARE CHAMPIONS”. I love this one. We all have random sports equipment in our closets. Personally, I use my work out equipment. All the brand new tags are still on it.
So, I was thinking the other day of some easy themes based solely on readily available and easy to get items. Here’s a few I might try.
“VOLUNTEERS HAVE CARING IN THE BAG”. I have so many of those plastic grocery bags, I thought I could just staple them around the room. I can make a game out of trying to throw wadded paper in the bags to amuse them.
“VOLUNTEERS, THE BRANCHES ON THE TREE OF CARING”. So, I can go into my yard and clip enough branches from my trees to scatter about the room. I might get scratched by a thorn or two, but at least it’s organic and free. Maybe afterwards I could start a small bonfire and we could roast marshmallows.
“VOLUNTEERS: THE PAY STINKS BUT YOU GET CUTE LITTLE PARTIES LIKE THIS!” This is where I will use all the left over stuff from all the other cute little parties that I’ve given. Cheap, easy and a good way to clean my back room.
“VOLUNTEERS: NOTHING CAN DESCRIBE HOW MUCH WE APPRECIATE YOU”. Yes, when all else fails, in keeping with the theme, I will use nothing. No decorations, no cute giveaways, nothing. I will act very avant-garde and when they leave, I will give each volunteer a handful of nothing while declaring “your worth is beyond paltry trinkets!” This probably would be the last time any volunteer comes to a function so I might have to save this one until I’m ready to retire.
So, please enjoy the upcoming holidays for what they really are: The chance to not have to rack your brain to come up with a clever theme!
-Meridian -
The Organization of Dorian Gray
It is painful to hear the words. “I don’t recognize my organization anymore.” Dillon is not a volunteer manager, but he works for a major hospice in a huge metropolitan area. As a social worker, he has direct contact with volunteers and is a champion of volunteer involvement. As he said over the phone, “I love communicating with the volunteers and each patient I see, I’m always trying to figure out how volunteers can be of benefit to them.” Dillon has worked in the industry for 25 years, most of it in hospice. He settled into this current job about 10 years ago. “I loved that the manager that hired me asked me how I felt about working with volunteers. I realized that this was an organization that truly cared about their patients and their volunteers. I was all in!”
But Dillon’s organization underwent some major changes four years ago. A new CEO, new marketing team, restructuring of disciplines and new logos and slogans all shook up the norm. “The perspective changed,” he mused, “and as competition heated up, I saw my organization shift dramatically, away from patient care to marketing and capturing demographics. It’s a business now and frankly I didn’t sign up to be a businessman.”
Dillon sighed. “And now, trying to get a volunteer is much harder. The volunteers are being asked to do things like find speaking engagements, set up health fair after health fair. And any volunteer that can sing or play an instrument? Forget it, they are being asked to perform. It’s all about the public seeing what the volunteers do rather than the volunteers actually doing it! It’s like we are advertising who we used to be, not who we are now, because who we are now is something I don’t recognize anymore.”
I could hear the chattering of staff in the background as Dillon continued. “I’m not saying that we don’t need marketing or we don’t need to compete. I’m saying that this shift is doing damage to the volunteer department. I already hear the rumblings of the volunteer staff as they stretch their volunteers more and more. On one hand, I need a volunteer to play the harp for my patients. On the other hand, they need that same volunteer to play the harp at a nursing home function. There’s only so much a volunteer will do. And I see the anxiety of the volunteer coordinators. They know which job is the right one for the volunteer, but when they continually say no to marketing, they are perceived as negative or uncooperative. They are in a no win situation here. The only thing they can do is recruit more advertising volunteers, but seriously, how many volunteers are out there wanting to do that?”
Dillon paused. “This puts me in a terrible position. I don’t want to ask for a volunteer because I know what stress the department is under. So, my patient suffers. At least though, the patient doesn’t know what he is missing. But I do. I talk to the coordinators frequently and some are new but the ones who have been here with me this long, they are sick about how their jobs are changing. Every time they try to explain why volunteers might not want to call bingo for a nursing home with no hospice patients in it, they get labeled as negative and uncooperative. Instead of listening to their coordinators, management listens to marketers, who have no idea how to work with volunteers. I’m seriously thinking about retiring and the sad part is, I think management would be happy to see me go.”
I asked him why he would think that and Dillon added wistfully, “one of the nurses who has been here longer than I have told me the other day that she thinks they want to get rid of everyone who has been here for a while. Not because of money or age, but because we know how it was in the old days and we are constant reminders that we are not that organization anymore.”
After we hung up, I felt an incredible sadness. I know that organizations need to morph to survive. But one has to wonder; once all the heart and soul has morphed out, then what exactly is left?
-Meridian -
The End of the Year Report
Last week I had the opportunity to shadow one of our volunteers. Leeta, a volunteer who visits nursing homes invited me to follow her around for a morning. I jumped at the chance because Leeta is one of those volunteers who is so quiet and reserved, that when she attended orientation, I sort of dismissed her in my head as not being a “sticker”. You know, those folks who will stick with it. I was wrong, thankfully and she’s been a sticker for eight years now.
I arrived at the nursing home early and she was already there. Although I had been there many times, I wanted to see the facility through her eyes so she gave me a tour. I have to admit, I had never before noticed the impressive painting of the founder nor the cozy little blue living room off the first corridor. Our first stop was the room of a tiny woman who talked about her years making pasta at her husband’s restaurant. Her deft hands mimicked the motion as she spoke. Leeta smiled knowingly. She had heard the story many times before. We then spent time with a gentleman who set type for the New York Times newspaper. He is 103. He slyly told me he got the news before the world did. Now, that’s impressive.
Then we came to a lady, Gwen, who was curled up in the hallway in her wheelchair. Under a collection of afghans, the world bustled around her as she sat among hurried staff and visitors on a mission. Though Gwen was deeply asleep, Leeta gently touched her shoulder. There was no response. Leeta whispered “Gwen” but nothing happened. Leeta paused for a second, watching intently then stood upright and I figured we were done. Nothing to see here. But instead, she walked into Gwen’s room and returned with a letter. “This was written by her granddaughter,” Leeta said as she unfolded the well used pages.
Leeta bent close, her lips nearly caressing Gwen’s wispy hair. “Dear Grandma,” she began, “I love you very much. I was in school yesterday and my teacher told us about..” she continued. My eyes were fixated on Gwen’s face. At first she continued to sleep, but I saw a flicker, then a stir as she took the words in. Her eyes fluttered and then slowly opened at the words, “Mommy says hello too.” She turned, so slowly that time seemed to stand still and she saw Leeta’s face, just inches from her. She blinked and recognized and the most peaceful look came over her that for just an instant, I felt that all was well in the world.
She drank in Leeta’s voice and kind eyes and the two spirits melded like batter for a decadent chocolate cake. Leeta stroked her hair and cheek and I felt tears spill onto my own.
No one will ever get to know that powerful moment. No one, but I. And there, in that chaotic hallway, I felt the power of volunteering, the reason volunteers do what they do.
Intimacy is borne from the establishment of bonds and our volunteers open their souls to that connection. They do it quietly, without thought of praise or recognition. But how we, volunteer managers, would love people to know about those intimate moments. How we’d love our fellow staff members to witness a volunteer’s humble gifts. How we yearn for senior management to be in that moment, to really grasp the nature of volunteering. How we wish prospective volunteers could feel that connection and understand how it would enrich their lives. How we want the public to see these tender moments so that they would stop caring about mindless celebrity sightings and start to embrace volunteerism.
But therein lies the irony of intimacy. A hundred pair of curious, expectant eyes would shred that blanket of intimacy woven by our volunteers. And so it becomes our duty to recreate, to celebrate in song and tale the forging of spirit to spirit. We use words, images, videos, gestures and heartfelt testimony because we, as observers of volunteers, know their value. The intimacy of volunteering is a story that needs to be told and we continually struggle to find just the right words.
Our jobs include showing the value of volunteers. Statistics, money saved, papers filed, number of calls made all show value. But what spreadsheet can show those intimate moments that mean everything to the recipient?
I’ll continue to struggle to showcase the true value of volunteers to my organization because these are the things in this world that are so priceless. I just hope that all organizations, while combing through end of year reports, never lose sight of that which really matters.
-Meridian -
We Should Have a Day of Our Own
I was just thinking that with all the upcoming holidays, you know, we volunteer managers should have a day of recognition. It could be called “National Volunteer Manager Day of Recognition”. Or maybe “Day of Multitasking with Unpaid Help While Being Grossly Underpaid” or perhaps “Thanks to Those Who Herd Cats Day.” But then a little tiny flash of remembering hit me. It was sort of a dull toothache kind of a brain pain. There already is a day for us. November 5th is “International Volunteer Manager Appreciation Day. IV Mad. IV MAD, really? Now why did I forget that, I wonder?
Was it in effect last year? Yep, according to the website, http://volunteermanagersday.org/, we had a day last year and the year before.So, why did I forget that? I mean I forget things like paying my bills or where I left my footed pajamas. I might have just banished it from my memory like the night that pimply Dave stood me up for the homecoming dance. Shudder, I can’t hear “Wooly Bully” without tearing up but that’s another conversation.
I decided to sit down and try to recall last year’s IVMAD. What I remember is something like this.
I got up that day and immediately started thinking about what to wear. I wondered, should I be understated so that I could act surprised when everyone came to thank me? I’d just look up from behind the pile on my overloaded desk and gush, “Oh my, I’m just doing my job, but thank you everyone so much you’re making me blush.” Or should I dress up, look my very best and be the consummate professional? Be all aloof and corporate and well, above lowly celebrations? How patrician. I decided to wear my best dress, the one that zips all the way up. Id have to skip lunch but it would be worth it. Maybe I’d put on some power high heels. I’d have to sit down for most of the day, because the last time I had to dress up, I fell while getting into the elevator and knocked over a cart full of files.
On the way to work, I practiced my responses to all the praise I was about to receive. I certainly wanted to be gracious, but amusing so that everyone would later talk about how clever I was. I decided on a simple “thank you, this is my dream job. And believe me, I dream about it every night.” Ha Ha, I was thrilled with my cleverness. I could almost hear them talking about me. “She looks so fresh for being as overworked as she is.” “She’s so clever and droll, I’m always uplifted when I see her.” “My, I wish I had her enthusiastic spirit and did you see those fabulous shoes?”
When I arrived, I discreetly backed my car up to the side door so that it would be convenient to haul out all the flowers and balloons after work. There would probably be left over cake too.
I walked in, confident that it would be a wonderful day. Even though there were no balloons with WE LOVE YOU and all the staff yelling “Surprise” to greet me, I did not despair. They were all probably still out picking up my gifts, trying to decide whether to get red or pink balloons. As I sat down and got to work, I knew that my organization and system would come through. Why wouldn’t they? I thought back over the year to all the recognition days we celebrated so that everyone had at least one day to feel appreciated.
We had an ice cream social for Administrative Professionals Day in April. I made sure I told one of the secretaries that I loved the artistic way she made spreadsheets.
We had a pot luck for Pride in Food Service Week in February. I brought some Dunkin Donuts.
For National Nurses Appreciation Week we had a big party complete with catered food. I wore white that day.
And during National Social Workers Month there were coffee and muffins every morning for a week. I tried to not act too crazy around the counselors.
I loved National Nursing Assistants Week in June because we ate all week and most of them are really nice.
I especially like Payroll Appreciation Week in September. You can’t be too nice to the payroll people.
There’s even crabby coworker day (Oct 27)which is so much fun until you come back from lunch and find some dead flowers on your desk. “Hey whoever put them there, I’m not crabby, I’m just stressed out!”
The day wore on, my feet hurt and I was tired of holding my stomach in. I watched the door for the balloons or cake or dancing clowns, but finally a co-worker came in and said,”hey, tell your volunteers thanks from me.”
Like I said, we should have a day of our own. Maybe it could be called, “Hey, for once, just throw me a bone day”
But, maybe this year will be different. I’m not going to dress up, but will practice a surprised look. Actually, good news, I won’t have to practice that!
Have a happy International Volunteer Manager Appreciation Day everyone!
-Meridian -
If It is Too Good to Be True…
Coretta is a striking 85-year-old artist. As she enters a room, images of her as a young, startlingly beautiful woman trail her like ethereal mists. Her blue eyes take one in from a perfect face and I feel like a mouse scrutinized by an eagle. Her husband Glenn, is a commercial artist and they have shown me pictures of his artistic product designs for major companies, most of them from the 1960’s. They shared these pictures to show me they are legitimate. Luckily, they seemed to like me.
Coretta offered to design a journal for our use. The journals would be given to patients or family members who would like to record their thoughts. The journal would have poetic prompters to help them visualize things to say. Coretta has written short haiku poems to be incorporated into the sides of the pages, giving the journal a professional quality. She and I corroborated often about how to distribute the journal, types of patients and methods of discovering how the journals were utilized.
As we worked together, Coretta told me in her breathy voice that she had gone to another agency and was initially welcomed with enthusiasm. She was going to paint a flowering vine for their lobby that would be filled with pictures of the clients served. She mused that it would be not only a lovely welcoming addition, but also a therapeutic exercise for the participants. Trouble is, as with many short-staffed, overworked organizations, no one at that agency could take the time to help her get started.
Frankly, if I let myself say it, I’m also too busy for the fluffy projects. But, there was something about those blue eyes that compelled me to scratch out the time from somewhere. And besides, I have gotten a bit self-serving. I need breaks from all the minutiae that weigh me down. Coretta let me float for just a bit.
My plan was to ask some very crafty volunteers to put these journals together and to begin by distributing them to select patients. Over the years, I’ve found that asking for permission to do a project takes forever, so by experimenting and proving that a project works, it makes it easier to sell. Anyway, we finalized her designs, complete with a Coretta sketch of a rose adorning the cover.
She stopped in the other day to talk to me. As we were chatting, she said, “I have been thinking about this whole project. I’m certain that other organizations would like to have it for their clients too, so I think that I would eventually like to market it. That is, after we’ve seen how it is received here and after some modifications.”
Boom, the eagle swooped in and ate me as I was nibbling some cheese. “Oh, how interesting,” I managed. Now, at that point, my brain started shrieking at me, “What!!!! Are you kidding???” And as I let those initial thoughts burst and flutter like confetti in my mind, I looked back into those blues and said, “Coretta, that is your prerogative. This is your work, your ideas, your poetry and art. You own that.”
She nodded with an artist’s smile and I continued, “if you want to do that, then we absolutely can’t use it here and stamp our logo on it. It is yours and you are entitled to keep it and protect it. But I cannot in good faith continue with this project.”
She studied me for a bit and said, “yes, well, I appreciate your honesty.” I could feel her talons caressing me, the me that spent precious time helping her. “I appreciate all your hard work and have thoroughly enjoyed learning about your organization.”
I didn’t say anything to anyone, especially anyone (well, everyone if you must know) who has been making fun of me for wasting my time with this pompous (their words) lady. Honestly, they wanted nothing to do with her.
See, here’s where I sometimes get myself into big trouble and then sometimes I uncover a golden volunteer nugget. I have to do more than just get to know people who want to volunteer. I have this weird side that feels like I’m digging for the next great volunteer. I’ll bet you have a side like that too.
While I’m not sure what will happen, because Coretta may rethink and decide to give her works to us, but really, I doubt that will happen. Did I waste my time with her and did she just want to use me to develop a product to sell? Maybe, but I’m choosing to think not. I’m choosing to think that she had good intentions, at least at the start. And we all know that there are plenty of volunteers with good intentions that don’t continue for some reason. We can only move on.
So, the question becomes, do we continue to dig, oftentimes alone for those volunteer nuggets even though we occasionally come up empty-handed? Until the day volunteer nuggets rain from the sky, I guess we’ll have to.
-Meridian -
Roadblocks
Jeff is a part-time volunteer manager at a small community hospital. He is responsible for staff education, special projects and the 50 auxiliary volunteers. An educator by trade, he is new to volunteer management, but embraces the idea that volunteers add real value to his organization. He has an auxiliary president and vice president who recruit, interview and train the new volunteers. The hospital volunteers run the gift shop, do office work and are expected to staff the reception desk seven days a week. Lately, though, the receptionist volunteers have been telling the auxiliary president that they cannot effectively do their job because the desktop computer doesn’t work properly.
A rather ancient piece of equipment, the computer is necessary for finding a patient’s location. The computer acts up by losing connections and then it takes a few minutes to reboot. The volunteers resort to calling hospital staff for room numbers, which is beginning to be a problem for irritated employees who are impatient with the volunteers. Jeff, thinking that it would be an easy fix, put in a work request to repair or replace the desktop. When he did not receive a timely reply and after more volunteers complained, he called the maintenance department who told him the request was being reviewed. Puzzled, Jeff called his superior who said that all capital expenses or major repairs had to be reviewed by a committee. When pressed on how long the process would take, the superior curtly said that he did not know, but would inform Jeff when he had an answer. After three weeks of growing impatience and endless excuses, the volunteers started to doubt that Jeff had actually requested help. They began to complain loudly and some threatened to quit. Jeff called his supervisor again and brusquely asked about the status of his request. “Come on,” he said, “I’ve got people wanting to quit. I need some movement on this.” After another week, the fed up volunteers started to miss their shifts, leaving Jeff to frantically call the auxiliary president to find replacements. The empty reception desk was noticed, but instead of acknowledging Jeff’s predicament, the senior management complained down through the channels that Jeff was not doing his job staffing the front desk. Jeff blew his stack. “This is ridiculous,” Jeff fumed. “If they expect a volunteer to do a job for free, the least they can do is provide them the tools necessary to do that job. Instead, this organization drags its financial heels, thinking that it doesn’t matter. Well it does. Paid staff can’t and won’t just quit, but volunteers can and will.” Jeff continued, “and then, they have the nerve to complain when volunteers quit, as if they have no culpability in this. It’s maddening how they dismiss the basic tools volunteers need, but are vocal when their roadblocks cause us to lose volunteers. It’s as if they think that volunteers will do anything asked of them, no matter how they are treated or no matter how tough they make it for the volunteers to successfully do their job. It’s ludicrous!”Jeff is spending a great deal of time soothing the disillusioned volunteers who rightfully feel that they are not worth the price of a new computer. Jeff is not giving up, even though some really good long-term volunteers are choosing to stay home. He’s not used to using the nails on a blackboard voice, but to him, it has become about what is right. Hopefully his administration will do the right thing. Hopefully they will realize the difference between staff who must deal with inconveniences and volunteers, who can choose to leave if conditions are unacceptable.
But if administration won’t, then when the next volunteer leaves, each manager should be made to figure out how to replace that volunteer and each manager should have to say to the new volunteer, “You know we really don’t think you are worth proper equipment. But keep coming in and working for free anyway and stop complaining.”
Because essentially, that’s what Jeff has to do.
-Meridian
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