volunteerplaintalk

Tag: part time volunteer manager

Two Strikes and You’re Out

I’ve been attending a weekly six part volunteer orientation at a local organization with a friend. Last Monday we arrived at the appropriate office a little before the 6:30pm start time. We were attending part five of the six parts and feeling pretty good about being on the home stretch. “See,” my friend said, “you actually have made it this far and after tonight, we only have one more session to go. Yay!”
Yes, I’ll admit it, I conjured up every excuse I’m sure volunteers have devised when faced with coming to my training sessions. “I’m tired, the season finale of the Big Bang Theory or Finding Bigfoot is on, the weather is bad, no one will miss me, why did I sign up anyway, or I don’t feel good and it’s too far to go.” Excuses aside, I went.
But, when we arrived, we noticed the other new volunteers milling around the parking lot. We’ve gotten to know them, so we approached, expecting enthused conversation. Instead we walked into some pretty negative grumbling.
“The door’s locked,” one said. “The place is deserted.”
“Don’t know where the instructor is,” another one chimed in. “Usually they are here by now.”
“Did you get an email telling you class was cancelled?” Someone asked.
“Man, I could have been home studying,” the student volunteer lamented.
“I didn’t get an email cancelling and I’ve been home all day,” the first volunteer said. “Did anyone else?”
I immediately pulled out my phone and pulled up my email. Nope, no email message. And I did give my correct email address on each of the sign in sheets so I know someone has it.
“I drove 25 miles to be here. Jeesh.” The second volunteer added.
“Does anyone have Betsy, the coordinator’s cell phone number?” The first volunteer asked.
“No,” someone said, “but I have the number for Claire, the office manager.”
“Good, would you call her?”
The volunteer next to me said, “You know, there’s the 20 minute rule.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You give the moderator or leader 20 minutes to show up and then you just leave.” Hmmm, I didn’t know that. So, mental note to me.

While a call was being placed to Claire, the rest of the increasingly annoyed group began to muse about some other shortcomings of the organization, from the lack of continuity to one really unlikeable staff member.
“Don’t ever work with her, she has no people skills at all.” One volunteer said.
“I know, she basically ignored me when I walked in the door the first time,” another added.
“I’ll bet she was responsible for notifying us of the cancellation,” a third chimed in. As the group nodded I pictured pitchforks and torches and the burning of Dr. Frankenstein’s castle.

Claire was unavailable and so at the 30 minute mark, we all left, a bit more bonded to each other, but much less to the organization.
“That was a waste of time,” my friend said to me on the drive back. She sort of chewed on her lip and offered, “maybe it couldn’t be helped.”

Now here’s where I politely disagree. Someone, anyone should have called each one of us to let us know the instructor was not coming. I know because I have scars from this happening to me. I learned the hard way a long time ago when I could not make a training session and did not have the list of volunteers on me at the time. The thing is, those volunteers, although put out, were able to see past the inconvenience. But here’s the kicker. Two of those same new volunteers were stood up by a staff member on their first assignment.

So as you can imagine, those two volunteers did not wait for the third strike. They each made a different gracious excuse to quit, and no amount of convincing changed their mind.

So, where did that leave me? Forget the statistics, forget the amount of time spent recruiting and orienting these two volunteers. I felt personally responsible for failing them. So, from that day on, I made it my two strike rule to not let volunteers be inconvenienced more than once. Did it always work? No, of course not, but the self-imposed hard fast rule forced me to carry lists of volunteers’ contact numbers, drive to work on a Sunday night to make phone calls, and have multiple back up plans. And when an inconvenience did happen, I made sure to offer a personal phone call apology the next day to the volunteers who were impacted by events oftentimes out of my control.

Did this add to my workload? Yes, by an unbelievable amount. I even learned to do double checks with staff to make sure volunteers did not arrive at an assignment without proper instructions. I’ve found that slogging through all the upfront work is ultimately preferable to trying to make amends for the sloppy treatment of volunteers. And I take volunteers’ experiences personally. Can’t help it, it’s how volunteer managers are wired, I think.

Oh, update. It WAS the responsibility of the staff member the volunteers were trashing to call everyone and cancel. We never got a call and have yet to get an apology from her, although we did get an apology from a different staff member at this week’s orientation.
Cue the pitchforks?
-Meridian

May 20, 2015
The Curly Slide Perk

“What do you get from your job?” A friend asked me recently as we sat swapping family hijinks over coffee. I thought maybe she was asking if I got vacation pay or bonuses or perks like a giant curly slide in the hallway. (yeah, like that would make us all more compassionate). No, I admitted, there are no rumpus rooms, no gourmet foods or fancy water stations and video games for us who work in charities.

Perks for us are not measured by sporting event tickets or flexible hours. (for us it’s more like flexible hours mean our families have to be flexible). So, what to tell my friend? Well, how can I explain the personal heroes that I get to know and work with? Not to downplay wonderful staff, but the volunteers we get to work with can be heroes not only to our organizations and clients we serve, but to us as well. They are our flesh and blood perks.

I think of volunteers like Gretchen, who has always treated my children like a surrogate Grandmother. See, both of my children’s Grandmothers died when they were young, as well as one Grandfather, so Gretchen was sometimes the only Grand parenting they enjoyed. Gretchen would remember conversations with each one and would inquire about the smallest of details while giving sage advice and encouragement. I also think of my friend Tammy who has a volunteer Quinn who has helped her move several times in the past few years. Quinn comes out no matter if it’s raining or late or if she needs an extra truck or if there’s a sleeper sofa to be moved. (Did you ever lift a sleeper sofa? It’s the worst-I managed a resale store for a bit and sleeper sofas scared me like the approach of a zombie horde)

But then I also think of volunteers who are personal heroes because I’ve been privileged to witness their character.

Kris suffers from deep debilitating depression, but pushes herself to help others, because as she says, “I won’t let this illness keep me from making someone else’s burden lighter.”

Marvin wears a cad pump which dispenses pain medication. He was almost killed in a devastating car accident but survived and endured excruciating surgeries. He tends to shrug off his misfortune by focusing on others. “I have to live life,” he says, “and I have to mean something to someone.”

Years ago, Bella’s eight year old daughter went missing. She was found three days later, the victim of an accidental drowning in a retention pond near her home. Bella quietly told me that the three days not knowing where her daughter might be was ultimately worse than her death. I can’t even begin to imagine either horror. Bella works with victims of trauma, and has turned her experience learning to survive in the cruelest of realities into helping others with similar pain. “I’m not going to just hurt all the time. I’m going to make a difference,” she says fiercely.

Rod was born with two deformed hands. His childhood was spent alternately trying to fit in with the neighborhood kids or trying to recover from the ugly jeers. He has forged a great life and always feels more fortunate when helping someone else. “You can’t concentrate on the things you don’t have,” he says simply, “you have to concentrate on the things you do have, and you’ll see. You have much to be grateful for.”

I’ve met so many volunteers who are inspirational, in the way they view life, in the way they overcome, and in the way they strive to quietly serve and make the world around them better.

Jan, whose body is now failing her due to age, just shrugs off the aches, pains and limitations thrown at her daily. “That’s why they made canes and walkers!” she declares with a laugh. “I’m not done yet!”

Manuel, whose wife died so young carries her picture in his pocket. “I’m doing this for her,” he says. “For how much I loved her.”

Ramon, who was a CEO and on surface could have been aloof. “I never instituted a rule I would not follow myself.” He said. “I need to focus on others, their pain, their journey and be for them what they need me to be or else, who am I?”

While cool places to work have ping-pong tables and on site gyms (does our running around all day count?), we have a different perk. We get to make daily trips to our own local Bodh Gaya where we are enlightened by the wisdom of profoundly experienced people. Even though I sometimes fantasize about having a juice bar or maybe just not having to pack my lunch again, I wouldn’t trade for that in a million years. I can get my own flavored water. I can visit a park with my grandchild and lumber down the slide. I can buy my own sports tickets and join a gym.

Wisdom and purpose don’t come in free lattes for everyone. They come from years of seeking and humbly being a student of others’ life lessons. So I will tell my friend, “My perks come in sitting at the feet of knowledge and inspiration.”

Hopefully, some of that knowledge will find it’s way into my soul.

-Meridian

May 13, 2015
What Could Go Wrong?

I happened to catch a grandma chatting via video with her granddaughter at college.
Have a peek at her volunteering experience:
-Meridian

May 6, 2015
And Now for Something Completely Different

I am a huge Monty Python fan. My husband and I, when first married would stay home, out of clubs and restaurants to watch Monty Python’s Flying Circus. It was brilliant. (ok, I’m giving up my age, but don’t care). The lexicon from those shows and subsequent movies became part of his and my vocabulary. We talk about spam (in shrill voices), used to tell our children that “it’s just a flesh wound” (only during minor injuries of course) and diffuse an argument by saying, “I didn’t expect the Spanish inquisition!”

So what on earth does this have to do with volunteer management you ask. It’s a fair question. I came across an article on a Python reunion and had to grab a cup of coffee, close the door and get into a comfortable chair to read it. It was like being contacted by an old friend. I just wanted to reminisce (and maybe find out how the dead parrot was doing). See, to me, humor and silliness have a place in everything, especially irreverent humor. Think of the doctors who save lives, but bandy jokes back and forth about death. Finding the absurd can alleviate stress and the Flying Circus cut through so much seriousness and let us laugh.

http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory/silly-monty-python-reunites-weekend-tribute-30566428

But the part that struck me most about this article was Eric Idle’s theorem of comedy: Idle: “Comedy is a theorem. You write it, and think, ‘In theory if I say this like that, and I wear that, and I stand in that place, the result will be laughter.’ So it’s a theorem. And then you actually prove it. And that’s the nice thing about comedy: They laugh or they don’t. So I think of it as algebra.”

Algebra. Hmmm, really smart people can do algebra.

Many years ago, I did an unscientific poll on what people thought of volunteer coordinators. I was just curious and at the time, the words that were used to describe us were words like caring, compassionate, nice, considerate and helpful. While these are wonderful attributes, not one person said volunteer coordinators are “smart”. So, Eric Idle (who is brilliant, not just smart) got me to thinking. Is volunteer management a theorem like comedy? Well, maybe the Ministry of similarities can show us how we are very similar to the brilliance of comedy.

In theory, we take a need and we postulate that volunteer Y, coupled with circumstance X will equal the desired result Z. On the proactive flip side, we postulate that volunteer A, coupled with circumstance B can create program C to meet future needs. And, as Eric Idle pointed out, the theorem works or doesn’t. If the need is not met, we go back to the blackboard.

If volunteer managers simply called every name on their list for every need, there would be no theorem involved. (Now sometimes we get desperate and actually call every name, but not routinely). A robot could accomplish that task. Instead, we begin to postulate the most workable theorem in our heads.

The algebraic equation, when we start to analyze who and how best to meet a need looks something like this:

The Need: A volunteer to drive an elderly lady client to doctor’s appointments.

Begin with a Volunteer (Y) from the list:

Volunteer Joanne does not want to work with clients.

Volunteer Claire loves to work with clients.

Volunteer Betty will occasionally work with clients if you are in a bind.

Volunteer Sadie will only work with clients who live in her mobile home park.

You’ve already eliminated all the male volunteers because you do not place male volunteers with female clients.

Add Circumstance (X): The client lives on the same block as Joanne, far from Claire, a short distance from Betty and near Sadie but outside of her park.

Joanne + circumstance = she will say no.

Claire + circumstance = a burden on Claire.

Betty + circumstance = a real possibility.

Sadie + circumstance = a possibility if you can point out that taking this client is almost like taking someone in her mobile home park.

The Z (meets the need or sum of Y+X) is most likely calling Betty first, then Sadie, then Claire, then perhaps Joanne. Or, you, being a problem solver might ask two volunteers to split the assignment or you might pair Joanne with Claire so that she can be mentored for later assignments (thus solving a future equation at the same time). There are many combinations, but the point is, the volunteer manager is constantly formulating. Now that’s smart.

I know what you’re thinking. The above example is so kindergardenly simplistic, it’s laughable. You, an experienced volunteer manager, are working at college level math. Within these volunteer equations are variables such as personality traits, availability, current volunteer load, the need for a break, social obligations, family emergencies, other activities, level of training and experience and so many more. Add to that the variables such as clients’ personalities and specific needs and voila, your mind’s blackboard looks like the scribblings of a madman.

Is volunteer management nothing more than a call down list, or is volunteer management a well thought out algebraic equation created to serve clients, volunteers and society in the best possible scenario? I think we know the answer but we need the non-profit world to realize that we are more akin to mathematicians than robo-callers.

So, ok, in this career, I’m glad we are being referred to as nice, considerate and helpful. But I’d also like for us to be recognized as smart.

-Meridian

April 29, 2015
“My Job is Social”

I was so impressed by an article I read a couple of weeks ago about the volunteer program at the Fort Wayne Children’s Zoo in Indiana that I just had to call and speak to the volunteer manager, Kathy Terlizzi because something about the article’s description of the program conveyed a specialness about volunteering. Kathy graciously agreed to let me write about our conversation.

Kathy with Dingo pup

http://www.journalgazette.net/news/local/Volunteering-at-zoo-better-than-working-5364666
I felt so comfortable speaking to her from her first bubbly hello that I imagined all the volunteers, both existing and perspective who are captivated by her passion and dedication. Her program truly is inspirational.

Kathy has been the zoo’s volunteer manager since August 2009 and was a volunteer at the zoo before joining the staff. “I made changes based on my experiences as a volunteer,” she told me. When she took over, the initial training program for new volunteers occurred either at the end of the season or at the beginning which meant some volunteers had to wait before utilizing their new skills and enthusiasm. Also, the training was a comprehensive training which meant that volunteers, regardless of their comfort level were expected to “get out and do what they were trained for”. Many volunteers, Kathy found, were overwhelmed with the comprehensive training and since there was no practical application (mentoring) along with training, the volunteers were not prepared to roll up their sleeves and jump in to some of the more complicated tasks.

So, Kathy, seeing volunteers repeatedly become overwhelmed, initiated a stair step training broken into three parts.
Part one is the basic training for all adult volunteers. This is the ground floor training and volunteers are asked to commit to 18 shift hours before moving up to the next level. Volunteers at the zoo can sign up for shifts online. (the zoo utilizes Volgistics for volunteer management).
Part two is the Ambassador training which helps volunteers prepare to interact and speak to the general public.
Part three is the docent training which helps volunteers become comfortable in crowd situations and with handling zoo education animals during animal demonstrations and off site programs for zoo guests.

This stair step method allows volunteers to take their volunteer training in stages and encourages them to find their comfort level of participation. The more advanced classes may be smaller than the initial basic training, but it ensures that volunteers find their own path and don’t feel pushed into something they are not ready to do. Some volunteers don’t wish to advance while others find that they want to move up. “I believe that volunteers should bloom where they’re planted,” Kathy said.

I heard real pride and enthusiasm when Kathy spoke about her teen leadership program which is set to kick off in June and July. Daily, 30-40 adult volunteers work in the zoo, but during the summer program an additional 40 teens who volunteer during two-week sessions are incorporated. They too, sign up for shifts online after going through a special teen orientation.
Teens 13-17 apply for the two-week sessions and the 172 slots are coveted by 250 applicants. Returning teens account for about 99 slots, so the rest are new teens who go through the new application process which includes filling out an online application, answering an essay question and providing a letter of recommendation.
After the applications are processed and the teens selected comes the logistical nightmare of slotting teens into the program. Kathy spends the entire month of March working on the two-week sessions. Emails and phone calls from interested teens takes over her days as she slots returning teens first and then the new teens are inserted based on gender, age and availability to provide balance. It is an ever evolving schedule as teens find conflicts with their other activities and family obligations.
But, instead of this monumental task seeming a burden for Kathy, she is stoked about the teen program, and told me that at first, she was intimidated working with teens because of all the negative stereotypes she’d heard about young people. But she found that the teens she works with are wonderful, responsible volunteers. She prides herself as an up front person and speaks to them frankly about dress codes, expectations and sensitive subjects like drugs and weapons. The teens are expected to be professional in their participation, especially in regard to zoo guests. In return, the teens take their responsibilities very seriously and frankly, Kathy says, they “have a lot to say.” Kathy believes in speaking to the teens directly, (although the program is transparent and openly invites parental and guardian involvement) and finds that the teens really step up when given the chance to embrace responsibility.
One day she discovered some older photographs of teen volunteers doing the same animal handling as the adults, something the zoo had gotten away from over the years, so she advocated a return to letting teens have equal volunteer responsibility. The parents were open to it, she says, mainly because they knew their children were safe within the zoo framework.
So two years ago, she implemented a two-hour pilot training and 66 teens signed up. At first the teens began with level one animals, bunnies and guinea pigs, but now the teens are handling snakes and tortoises. When the pilot program began, Kathy let the teens know that they were in part responsible for the success of the program and the teens immediately stepped up and showed the professionalism necessary for the program to thrive.

Puzzle Feeder

Another success Kathy talked about was increasing the trust level between staff and volunteers. It was a goal she had when she first started and so she spent the first year building a rapport with staff. “I told them (staff) that volunteers will do anything as long as it benefits the zoo. They won’t, however wash your car.” At first the zoo keepers were reluctant, so Kathy took a proactive approach.
She saw that the giraffe keepers had to prepare food daily for the giraffe puzzle feeders (a hanging feeder with holes that let the food stick out-these feeders simulate the natural foraging of giraffes) and offered to ask volunteers to do the preparation, thus giving the keepers more time to focus on other more pressing tasks. At first the keepers wondered why any volunteer would be willing to do that job, but within five hours after posting the job online, the shifts were all filled. Now volunteers sign up for 2 hour shifts to prepare the giraffe puzzle feeder food.
Another proactive instance came when the aquarium manager mused about organizing ph data he had been collecting so Kathy offered him a volunteer who was computer savvy in spreadsheets.
At first he reluctantly turned over a month’s worth of data but when he received his data back in a neatly organized spreadsheet, he quickly turned over much more information to the volunteers.
That’s how trust is built. Kathy also found a way to incorporate seamstresses into the zoo’s programs. These volunteers make costumes for zoo presentations and also cold weather quilts for the education animal carriers. She also utilizes Spanish-speaking volunteers to help translate signage.

Kathy has found a great way to work with groups. She says that the community wants to be involved in zoo volunteering so she offers the community the opportunity to participate in Annual Enrichment Workshops (run by a volunteer and his family) where they can do meaningful crafts like make fishcicles or paper mache animals in bulk. These items are requested by keepers and ultimately given to exhibit animals as enrichment. She also utilizes corporate volunteer groups for some of the zoo’s larger events throughout the year.

But when I asked for Kathy’s advice to new volunteer managers, she grew wistful, “I would tell them to get ready for the ride for it’s all encompassing. It’s fun and rewarding but also sometimes sad because you have this personal rapport with the volunteers and you get involved with their lives.” She also would like a new manager to know that volunteer management is not a 9-5 job, as there are weeknight trainings and weekends spent recruiting or trouble shooting. She says, “there’s one of me and 450 volunteers. And they all want and deserve some of my time. That’s why my job is social.”
She told me that she had been a manager for many years before working at the zoo and it opened her eyes when she took a personality quiz and found out how high she scored on interacting with people. Volunteer management has fit that bill. Kathy spoke glowingly of being able to put a volunteer in a place where they can grow. Whether it’s a shy, sensitive teen or a senior who is feeling unfulfilled, she derives tremendous satisfaction in seeing volunteers bloom.
As you can imagine, Kathy is comfortable talking with anyone. She says, “I kid that I need one of those take a number systems outside my door. My office is right across from the volunteer room. Everyone talks to me, volunteers, staff, guests, even family and friends. If I wear my zoo t-shirt to the store, the clerk wants to talk to me about the zoo. So I take the opportunity to ask, how about volunteering for us?”

For me, it was easy to see why this volunteer program succeeds. Kathy Terlizzi, the volunteer manager, is both passionate and practical. I heard in her voice that she wants every volunteer to succeed, to have a meaningful experience, and to be part of something in which they can take great pride. It’s no wonder the Fort Wayne Children’s zoo is the number one attraction in all of Indiana. This zoo and volunteer program is a success story we can all learn from. I know I’ve taken away these principles from my conversation with Kathy:
1. Be proactive with staff-analyze their needs and offer volunteer help whenever possible-build that trust that volunteers can help and free up staff to do other pressing matters.
2. Invest time and thought into your training program-use levels to encourage volunteers to find their niche and don’t overwhelm them with all training at once, instead encourage them to take training in steps. Make sure that the volunteer opportunities are meaningful work.
3. Model professionalism and responsibility, especially to teens and they will step up to the challenge.
4. Be prepared to give your time and attention to every volunteer.
5. Create new opportunities whenever possible to expand your volunteer reach.
6. Take pride in your work. It’s infectious.

Thank you so much to Kathy Terlizzi for allowing me a glimpse into this very special volunteer program. It is volunteer managers like Kathy who take volunteering to the next level through dedication and a willingness to believe in volunteers.
-Meridian

April 22, 2015
I Turned Her Loose

I was turning the pages of an actual newspaper when I came across a picture of a former volunteer, Simone. I touched the grainy picture with my forefinger as though able to connect through ink and wood pulp. Simone had that look on her face, one of fierce determination and intent concentration. “I will make a difference, I will.”
She was actually referred to me by another organization who honestly did not know what to do with her. “Can you take her?” they asked. “We can’t provide her what she needs for the things she wants to do.” I love a challenge so I welcomed Simone. At first, her gravely voice kept me from focusing on her arresting blue eyes and I struggled to hear the things she said. Slender, in her mid eighties, Simone was as easily dismissible as a leaf that alights on a hurried walk down a garden path. But then those eyes, those two blue sponges that soaked up everything in view, made me stop and listen.
Simone was an architect, a poet, an artist, a tech guru and had created a website featuring photos of urban architecture. With no shouting, she commanded attention if you stopped thinking of her as a brittle autumn leaf.
She was full of some of the most creative ideas I’ve ever heard from one person. Ideas that spanned reaching the “left brained” or analytical side of patients, working with caregivers, grieving people and traumatic situations. In truth I could have carved out a 40 hour work week just by implementing Simone’s ideas.

Instead, I tried to focus on one thing at a time and together we started to build a framework by prioritizing our projects. I love projects. They start with a mind sketch and then there are real building plans and then you see the inner skeleton go up and pretty soon you have a frame that becomes a building.
Right now, every day, I drive past a gas station being built. While a gas station is not glamorous or pretty, I marvel at the thickness of the foundation followed by the steel beams that will hold up the structure and then there’s the walls that give it form. Finally, one afternoon the lights go on and it is open. We stop for gas, never thinking of the hours of labor, the grind of the heavy machinery, and the attention to support.

That was Simone and I. We donned our hard hats and got our nails dirty as we labored to make something out of her talents as an architect and artist. The foundation took awhile and so did the steel skeleton, but the walls felt good as we put them up. She was creating an art building with elderly patients. It was not a gas station, but a building full of love and patience. I helped her on many occasion and sometimes would stand back and marvel at her ability to soothe and touch as she guided hands to create. It was always those blue eyes, seeing nothing but the person in front of her, and his dabs of color on a paper or a wobbly block structure that would eventually mean something to both of them.

I found out that Simone had a close friend who was terminally ill and that partially explained her passion. But I think it was more the way she saw life, as a poet who could grasp the tenuous strands of existence and build some meaning with them.

One afternoon, Simone and I were together and she told me that she was going to write a book of poetry about the people she worked with. A facility that welcomed her was contacting family members to get permission for her to do so. Somehow, like the crumbling of ancient castles and the first flight of birds from a nest, I knew this day would come. I told Simone that there might be some difficulty surrounding her writing a book for publication. I told her that she would experience some push-back from our legal department since she was in fact, representing us at the facility. The question became, were her ideas her own and even if they were, did she not accept all the restraints that volunteering for an organization placed on her?

We sat and chatted. I wasn’t sure if I appeared to be protecting her or chastising her. Anyway I framed it, she felt the nay-saying voice of impediment. I represented barriers and roadblocks, not encouragement. Being a free spirit, she needed carte blanche to do what pioneers do: Develop new territory. I knew there would be a legal hassle as sure as I knew she would write the poetry anyway. So I did the only thing that I felt was right. I turned Simone loose. I asked her if the facility would support her and if she had legal representation. She assured me she did. I advised her to volunteer for them (leaving out any residents that were patients of our organization) and continue to build her program. See, I couldn’t bear the thought of tying her up with endless red tape and seeing those blue eyes plead with me to help her break free.

We hugged. I took Simone’s badge and gave her the freedom to create. I’ve always wondered if I could have done something to make it all ok, to run interference but an organization with layers and layers of legality and confidentiality cannot allow personal and financial gain from interactions with clients. I understand this. Clients are protected as they should be.

So, when I saw a picture of Simone in the paper accompanying an article about architecture and working with the elderly, I smiled. As expected, her eyes were focused on a frail woman hunched over a rudimentary building. Somehow, looking at Simone, if I softened my eyes, I could see her wings.
-Meridian

April 15, 2015
If Ever There Was a Reason to Support Volunteer Management…

“Jimmy Savile was given free rein to sexually abuse 60 people, including seriously ill eight-year-olds, over two decades at Stoke Mandeville hospital due to his gold-plated status as a celebrity fundraiser, an inquiry has found.” from the Guardian, February 26, 2015.

http://www.theguardian.com/media/2015/feb/26/jimmy-savile-abuse-stoke-mandeville-hospital-inquiry

Also from the article, “Kate Lampard, who carried out an independent review of Savile’s activities, said the activities of the celebrity across the NHS were “scarcely credible”.
And further in the article, “Lampard said: “Savile’s celebrity and his roles as a volunteer and fundraiser … gave him power and influence within NHS hospitals which mean his behaviour, which was often evidently inappropriate, was not challenged as it should have been.”

This horrendous case is sadly not a one of a kind. Those instances are out there, whether they are reported or not. When researching volunteerism, I find stories of volunteers who hurt and abuse clients and steal from organizations in all parts of the world. And the question is, who is responsible for watching these people?

One thing I have learned about volunteer managers is that we take volunteer management seriously. We know the good work done but we also do not fool ourselves into complacently thinking that everyone who wants to volunteer does so with pure motives. There are people who need to work out personal issues, people who need to feel worth, people who need to control, people who have agendas and once in a while, people who are psychologically sick. And the vulnerable population we serve is a perfect place for these people to operate.

I remember a man who came to volunteer about 20 years ago. He sat on the other side of my desk and with an angelic smile, lied to me. He was so convincing and I was thrilled to have someone who had that passion to volunteer. I was completely oblivious to his odd need to volunteer and fortunately, before any damage could be done, we found out that this person had a history of bilking people out of their savings. (This was in an era before background checks). I felt the sting of being taken in by that slick presentation for many years. For a time, I questioned my ability to read people. But this is how dangerously convincing these folks can be. They can be master manipulators.
For those of us who have gone through these learning trials, a healthy skepticism takes hold that quietly whispers, “Be careful. Follow up and check and check some more.” None of us believe that we can weed out potential problem volunteers by gut instinct only. But gut instinct becomes one tool that is sharpened over the stone of experience.

Great volunteer management prevents vulnerable populations from being abused and exploited. Most of us have had “celebrities” or people of note come to volunteer because they need us for something, such as the political hopeful who wants to appear in touch with constituents, the burgeoning business owner who swoops through for publicity, or the local tv star that volunteers once and adds it to a long resume of half truths.

At hospice, I’ve had a prominent member of the hemlock society (euthanasia advocates) come to volunteer and tell me with a straight face that he had “seen the light” and wanted to volunteer now that he embraced natural death. I’ve had religious zealots swear up and down that they would not try to save people at end of life. I’ve had beauty queen contestants promise to do all kinds of wonderful volunteering, then just record my name as an endorsing mentor on their resume. I’ve had folks addicted to pain killers, teens looking for a way to fool their parents and people who wanted to cashier at a resale shop so they could steal from the till. Each instance sharpened my skeptical blade. (You want to volunteer five days a week? And you want to start tomorrow? WHY?)

It is true that volunteer managers give people a chance to volunteer while skeptically wondering about their deep motivations. But the point is, volunteer managers do not let down their guard, not for celebrity, not for power brokers, not for smiling people of any background or status. And when the CEO sends us a neighbor’s troubled child or a major donor to volunteer, we say “no.” But if we are forced to take that volunteer anyway, we keep that person away from our clients, near us where we can watch them. It’s a burden on us, but that’s what we do.

We, volunteer managers are the first line of defense for the people we serve. When we go home, after a day of managing people, we look ourselves in the mirror and we expect to be proud of what we see. Will we stand idly by while there is a volunteer potentially abusing a client, stealing from the organization or harming in any way one of our vulnerable population? Not on our watch.

Organizations everywhere need to put resources into volunteer management. They need to hire competent, dedicated and ethical people who will challenge the status quo at times. They need to then support those people with seats at planning meetings, educational opportunities. and recognition of the challenges of managing unpaid staff. Organizations need to recognize that each and every member of a volunteer department is actually a manager of human resources, not just a coordinator or specialist or whatever fluff title they have chosen. Because, every day, these volunteer managers are promoting the good work and capital of volunteer help while ensuring that an organization does no harm to the clients.

After all, is any amount of fluff thinking worth the abuse of an ill eight year old? Any?

Not while we volunteer managers are on duty.

-Meridian

April 8, 2015
Projectile Volunvomiting

The other night, a friend invited me to a volunteer meeting. She had just started volunteering for an organization that helps runaway teens. I said, “sure” since it was in the evening and I figured why not, I can’t get enough working with volunteers and I really didn’t want to watch any more tv programs about catfish catching with my husband.

Ok, honestly, I wanted to see how the meeting was conducted and whether or not I could get any tips from the moderator. Honestly. All right fine, I really was hoping that the meeting would be mediocre so I could feel good about my meetings. Not a noble reason to go, trust me, but meetings are hard to conduct. Are they interesting? Are they enjoyable? Are they succinct and mind-blowing, earth shattering, and brilliant? If not, guess what? No one will come to the next one, you loser! That hangs over our heads all the time like a dark cloud of failure raining on our meeting agendas. “This is boring, why do we have to come to meetings, I never learn anything new and volunteer Emma talks non-stop through them anyway, I can’t hear about her granddaughter’s finance anymore!”

So, I went and sat down next to my friend and looked around at the concrete block walls, utilitarian fold up tables, uncomfortable stacking chairs and felt right at home, like a bird in a nest. The roll up screen was down, the laptop on, and the fuzzy power point welcomed us to the meeting. Whew. So far, my meetings were on par, so I relished in the fact that there were no black tie clad people serving shrimp on toast, no full length videos and no dancing staff members replete with their own “thank you volunteers” song.

The moderator, who was filling in for the regular moderator, welcomed everyone and got right to the agenda which beamed down on us from the screen. I looked around the room at the volunteers, recognizing each one although I knew none of them. (I have volunteers just like these!)

My eyes alighted on one gentleman, who sat listening intently. As my gaze returned to him periodically, I could see his temples rippling ever so slightly. He was clenching his jaw. Oh, oh, I thought, not a good sign, one the moderator could not see because she did not have as clear a view of him as I did. The agenda was pretty straight forward, consisting of upcoming events, news items and volunteer needs. I took sick pleasure in the one or two mistakes that had to be amended. (I’m not proud of that, trust me, and my little voice of perfection in my head said, “oh, so now you think it’s ok to make mistakes huh?”)

Volunteers asked questions about assignment dates and other “housekeeping” type issues and everything was pretty normal until the gentleman with the rippling temples spoke up. “You know,” he said, (which always means something we know and care not to admit is coming), “I’ve been volunteering over two years. I’m the lead for one of the task forces and when we get called out, we only have four volunteers to choose from. Now, my question to you, is, where are all these volunteers? Why don’t we have more volunteers on the task force? We advertize for people, I see new people on the roster, heck I’ve even let some come in and watch what we do, but no one has stepped forward to join us.”

At this point, I felt a rush of empathy for the moderator and could completely understand her pain, having been in this position many a time. I was sorry now that I so meanly wanted to see some mistakes, and I just wanted the rant to end. “Why can’t we get more volunteers?” He went on, the pent-up frustration spewing forth. “I mean, I work for crying out loud and I can come to meetings, I can get up in the middle of the night and be where I’m supposed to be, so why can’t we find other people like me?”

I wondered, should I raise my hand, but the moderator handled it as well as she could, saying that volunteers like this gentleman were hard to find and that they were making a concerted effort to reach out to the community. Now, I know the truth and I suspect this gentleman did as well. The truth is, we all try, but recruitment is just one part of our jobs. It jockeys for position along with retention, recognition, problem solving, mediation, human resources, and every other little thing that gets thrown our way. The luxury of just recruiting is unthinkable, sort of like coming home to no housework or driving a car forever with no maintenance needed. I wish.

The moderator and this gentleman bantered back and forth for a bit while the rest of the volunteers looked on. I suspect this scenario plays itself out all across the volunteer spectrum. I wondered if the moderator felt frustration, not at the volunteer, but at the fact that this volunteer had to remind her how much was on her plate and how she could only give a percentage to each task.

Volunteer Frustrations can bubble up anytime. Some volunteers will make an appointment to air their concerns privately. Others may “blow” in a meeting or while working on an assignment. I’m no psychologist (ask my husband, he’ll tell you-as he watches catfish being hauled out of a river) but I suspect that the volunteer who vomited his frustrations grew very tired of a meeting in which everything was normal. I suspect that in his mind, no one was addressing the glaring lack of volunteers. I suspect he may have felt like this new moderator could do something about his concerns. I’ve had that happen on more than one occasion. I go through channels to address a volunteer’s request, but it languishes and the volunteer corners a new staff member because they may have more clout.

We, volunteer managers are continually checking on our volunteers, but we are not perfect. Sometimes we can see frustrations building and sometimes we can’t. We try to intervene before volunvomiting happens but we can’t always see it coming. Most of the time, the frustrations our volunteers feel are the very ones we feel too.

Kudos to the moderator who did not feed into those frustrations but calmly addressed them. In retrospect, (which is easy now, I know) perhaps a few things could have helped. I’m going to put these in my arsenal of come-backs for the next time a volunteer spews forth their concerns at a meeting:

1) “You have an excellent point, one which we are very concerned about as well. Who, here, in this room is willing to step up and become a member of the task force?”

2) “I’m so glad you brought that up. It is foremost in our minds too. Let’s put together a committee from the dedicated folks in this room to do targeted recruiting.”

3) “Thank you for voicing the frustrations we all feel. Would you be willing to sit down with me soon so that you and I can work out a plan to recruit folks like you, dedicated, hard-working and committed.”

Perceived Inaction=Grievance. Action=Cooperation.

Vexed volunteers are not bad volunteers. They want what is best too, so let’s put that vexation to work. Diffuse that frustration by challenging them and the folks around them to help better the situation.

-Meridian

April 1, 2015
Dieting, Models and Volunteering?

I’ve dieted. And sure, I’ve sat there, chocolate cupcake in hand watching a commercial where the svelte people tout how much weight they’ve lost on the low carb or cabbage soup or just buy this little pink pill diet. Heck, I’ve admired the ones who look so freakishly happy because they finally got the weight off. Wow, look at them. That could be me.
So. why wasn’t it me? What insidious reason came between me and my easily obtainable goal of looking like Tyra Banks strutting down the runway in a Paris trunk show? (I won’t mention that a. I’m ridiculously too old, b. I’m seriously too short and c. I inherited my mother’s plough pulling non-dainty build.)
Why don’t I want to be one of the twirling, hair tossing, always smiling model thin people? Because I’m not them. That’s not me. Sure, I want to be healthy and I’m taking steps to be that. I want to feel good and I’m working on that too. I want to wear clothes that don’t bind or pinch and I’m trying to stop stress eating. But the folks who represent dieting plans and products look so one-dimensional to me. Look at them, they’re focused. They don’t come home to a pile of throw up in the entryway because the dog pulled a half-eaten cupcake from the garbage. They don’t open the refrigerator as the dishwasher starts making a grinding noise which means washing dishes by hand until the repairman comes. They don’t step on the laptop after an unplanned nap in the recliner. No, their lives are perfect. They must be because how else could they accomplish those tough goals and still smile like that?

I compare myself to them and they always win. It’s called social comparison. We look at our lives and the lives of others around us and sometimes we win and sometimes we fail miserably. (all in our heads of course)

There appears to be a lot of reasons folks don’t volunteer. Heck, we all rabidly research and debate the reasons Jessica volunteers and Jorge does not. I’ve tried looking for this magic reason for years, going so far as to include it on a volunteer application and no, it did not give me any insight at all. Instead it annoyed the heck out of people-go figure.
We, volunteer managers twist ourselves into a bigger mess than the wires behind my computer desk trying to make everything perfect to attract volunteers. We are aware of the changing needs of volunteering such as flexible schedules, meaningful experiences and episodic or virtual opportunities. We’ve reinvented ourselves over and over again. So can there be other reasons Greta won’t knock on our door?

I remember a conversation I had a while back with a friend, Judy. I had been trying to get Judy to volunteer for years. She would be perfect, I always thought. Funny, no-nonsense, industrious, she would bring an air of authenticity.
“No,” she said emphatically. “I’m not volunteering. You guys are all so, I don’t know, smiley.” At the time I laughed, but Judy’s perception stayed in my head. And it made me always wonder if there were not some people out there who look at volunteering the way I look at diet models.
Do they think “That’s not me. I’m not that selfless, or happy or giving or whole. I look at volunteer pictures on websites, or Facebook and see volunteers, arms around each other as they pose in front of the playground they built or the building they painted or the kids they saved and I think, I’m not like them.”
Do they read the newspaper and see volunteers receiving awards and think, “Good for them. They must be perfect. Well, I’m not.”
I love to post pictures of volunteers accomplishing awesome things and I automatically assume that anyone who looks at the pictures will want to join in on the super-duper goodness. But don’t diet companies think the same thing about me?
And so, I’m thinking about some re-imagined volunteer slogans to appeal to the “I’m not perfect like them” prospective volunteer:

Volunteering, a Work of Heart = Volunteering, it’s a lot of work but it gets worth it at some point and trust me, sometimes I want to scream that’s it’s not what I thought it would be, but there’s some good in there too.

Help Others, Help Yourself = Heck, I can barely get up in the morning, but at times seeing people worse off than me actually helps a bit.

Volunteers are Priceless = Yeah, there’s no money in volunteering so you can’t mess it up too much.

A Volunteer Journey Begins With a Single Step = Ok, we know it’s really hard to take the slippers off, but we take people in pajamas. You don’t even need to comb your hair.

Just Bring a Caring Heart = Look, it’s a fallacy that all these volunteers are so perfect. We’re all pretty much rotten at times too. But together we can figure it out because nothing is perfect and that’s ok.

So, should I now just post pictures of volunteers milling around looking lost and unhappy? (I could get quite a few of those at times)

No, but just as I don’t view myself as one dimensional, I believe prospective volunteers see themselves as complex too. And a few of them might need to know that volunteers aren’t perfect people who have it all together all the time.

Heck, maybe I’ll post a picture of myself, I could be the poster child for not having it together!
-Meridian

March 25, 2015
Perfectly Un-Perfect

When my children were young, I barricaded them from anything and everything embarrassing about myself because I knew they would spread it faster than spilled cooking oil over a brand new dress. Little ones really have no filter and when they learn something juicy, they will a) tell their teacher, b) tell their best friend’s mom or c) tell the guy in the elevator who turns out to be the one processing your car loan.

We learn pretty quickly how to keep damaging information away from those who view the world as a big piece of warm toast just waiting to be smeared with buttery gossip. There are the neighbors who pry ever so nicely, the co-workers who ambush you on a Monday morning before you’ve gotten your game face on. “So, how was your weekend? Really, I didn’t know you hung out in those types of establishments.”
So, how does this relate to volunteers? Well, we can get really comfortable around them and let down our guard and the next thing you know, you have your boss in your office wondering why the heck you said those terrible things about the operations manager because “it’s all they’re talking about in administration.” Of course anything said innocently like “you know I do like the new giving director. He seems nice, but it’s sometimes hard to understand him, he mumbles like he has something in his mouth,” becomes by the time it makes the rounds of eager ears, “Meridian says the new fund director doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Trying to explain only makes it so much worse.

I’ve never had a volunteer spread anything I’ve said out of meanness or ill intent. It’s always an innocent aside or a slip of the tongue. At the time, it’s never funny, and when it happens, you just try to lay low in your warm dirt filled trench until the whole thing blows over and then you’re extra nice to anyone and everyone in case they’ve been told something that will come back to haunt you soon.

I remember one day saying to a volunteer who was a retired charge nurse that our female executive director looked positively glowing. That afternoon the volunteer ran into the director as she was headed for lunch and asked ever so intrusively, “when is the baby due?” Yeah, she did and then told the director that she heard it from me.

I remember another time a volunteer, John thought he was actually going to help me and went to my boss and proceeded to complain that I was overworked. (This is a lovely theme that volunteers who really care about us volunteer managers come up with, and sometimes want to do something about much to our chagrin). When he told me what he did, I didn’t know whether I wanted to hug him or ask him to help me pack my things. See John owned and ran his own boat manufacturing company for thirty years so he pretty much said whatever the heck he wanted. Although my boss realized I did not put John up to it, (at least that’s what she told me) I could tell that she wondered how much “oh poor little me” stuff I was spouting. I had a hard time defending myself and John on that one.

One of my favorite volunteers, Jessie once accompanied me to a community event advocating for the homeless that just happened to be covered by local press. While I was crawling around on the ground trying to tie down the tent in the tornado-like winds, Jessie was interviewed by the press and was happy to help by giving some personal opinions on the subject which of course appeared in the paper the next day as the official position of my organization. The next morning I sneaked into my office, but they found me! I really think I would have gotten into less trouble if I had set fire to the donor’s wall.

My favorite one though, was the day I came close to a meltdown. A staff member I trusted implicitly didn’t follow through and caused all kinds of emergency extra work. I was pacing, muttering, and trying to figure out how to make the last-minute disaster come together when one of the volunteers, Ruthie walked in on me having a heated conversation with myself. I didn’t notice her for a moment and when I did, she was watching me pretty much in the same way she would watch a stranger wearing a goalie mask coming down a dark alley. I stopped when I saw her and told her that I was just figuring some things out and she nodded, said ok, goodbye for the day and left. So the next day, Ruthie came in unexpectedly, found me in a casual conversation with a senior manager and offered me some medication from her medicine chest. It was Xanax.

What do I think I’ve learned about being honest in front of volunteers? Should we be very careful about what we say? I do think that we should spare them any political nonsense, personality conflicts and dysfunction in our organizations. They don’t need those headaches. But am I careful about every little thing I say? Nah, not at all. I look back at those incidents and others and laugh. I lived through them, and each volunteer thought they were doing the right thing. And you know what? WE CAN’T CONTROL EVERYTHING! (Horrors, I still shudder at that realization).

I think as long as we keep in mind that our volunteers want to be a part of the goodness of our organizations’ missions, then we’ll share with them the best part of ourselves. We can be funny, crazy, serious, mindful, playful, driven or any combination of personality traits that make us unique.
As long as we are sincere, we can share ourselves without fear of the few times we are taken out of context, misunderstood or “helped” by well-meaning volunteers.
One trait I’ve noticed about volunteer managers is that we are comfortable with life’s complexities. We don’t see people and the world as the perfect red velvet cake, but as this ever-changing creative cake mix that is interesting, sometimes frustrating, but ultimately perfect in a non-perfect sort of way.

Granted, we’ll sometimes get a bubble of dry flour when we bite into these not so perfect cakes, but then again, we get to eat a lot of frosting too.
-Meridian

March 18, 2015