volunteerplaintalk

Tag: volunteer manager

  • Can Justice Truly Prevail?

    scalesLast week I had a phone conversation with the mother of a 16 year old prospective volunteer. It went something like this:

    She: My daughter, Olivia, needs 30 hours by the end of this school year.

    Me: Well, that’s quite a number of hours over the next three weeks. Typically, with student volunteers, we begin with orientation. Our student orientation for this summer is scheduled for the beginning of June. We may have to orient Olivia one on one since she needs hours before orientation starts. Would you be comfortable with that? I may have some time on Friday.

    She: She can’t come in Friday after school, she has cheer-leading. On Wednesdays, she has piano, and she has student government. This weekend we are out-of-town, camping. She can come in Monday at 5pm but I need her to be home by 7.

    Me: Hmmmm, Monday is not good for me, I have an appointment with a group on the other side of town. What does Olivia’s schedule look like for the actual volunteering?

    She: She can work some Saturdays and then I’ll give you a schedule of the few times she can be there after school. She may need to get the volunteering in on Saturdays though, which means 8 or 9 hours there. I’m assuming she can do some homework too.

    Me: We don’t typically have volunteers, especially students, volunteer that many hours at a time. It’s too intense and too much for anyone. (and me too, I thought angrily. I’m not coming in all day Saturday).

    Her: But that is the only way to get her hours in. She can’t come on Sunday and she has activities all week. You need to take her on Saturdays. Or don’t you accommodate volunteers?

    Me: Of course we do, but we also want our volunteers to be placed in situations where they won’t be overwhelmed. We want them to have a meaningful time.

    Her: Sigh. It needs to be on Saturdays.

    Now, if you are yelling at the screen, shouting at me to hang up (which is what I’d be yelling if I were reading this), then let me throw in a tidbit of information. This mother is the wife of a big donor. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Volunteer rules aren’t the same here, are they?

    Somehow, I had to give in and get Olivia her hours.  I know some might say, “heck, sign off on the hours. The kid won’t get anything out of volunteering anyway. Cut your losses!” Nah, can’t do that, somehow that just feels really wrong. And maybe,I reasoned, I could catch up on all the other piles of work on Saturday so I gave in and scheduled her. I got up that morning, a bit irritated, but determined to make the best of it.

    But it did sting that my time and effort and carefully crafted rules regarding volunteering, when weighed against a donation, well, just don’t matter as much.

    Sometimes we are forced to bend our rules because a prospective volunteer is the son of a senior manager, or the wife of a donor, or an attorney or whomever it is the organization does not want to upset. There are volunteers and then there are VOLUNTEERS if you know what I mean. It happens in the workforce too, so I can’t say we’re the only ones in the lopsided scale of the justice basket.

    Didn’t make it feel any better though. But, rules are meant to be broken and so I came into the in-patient unit and mentored Olivia. And guess what? You already know that she was delightful. She apologized for taking up my Saturday. We visited patients and she told me that she wanted to be a pediatrician. At one point, Olivia held a patient’s hand and softly sang in Italian, the patient’s native tongue. The 93 year old former WWII bride from Italy’s face relaxed as the gentle lyrics stroked her soul.

    Well, I could have missed that experience. I went home that afternoon satisfied. We didn’t stay 9 hours, we stayed 5. Olivia made such an impression on the staff that they will mentor her the next two Saturdays so I’m free to go back to my weekdays. Funny, I’m going to miss coming in with her.

    And you know what I learned? The scales of justice balance out because the universe is watching out for us.

    -Meridian

  • Gooooooooo Team! Beeeeeeeeee Childish!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    -Meridian

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “Welcome back?” I offered.

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

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

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

    -Meridian

  • …Oh! One More Thing! I Need that Magic!

    memory bearLast week I just happened to be present when a brand new volunteer, Glenna was returning a memory bear she had made. Glenna has been volunteering for about six months now and is doing so because she is unemployed, looking very hard for another job and almost desperately wants to give back. Glenna is quiet, pounded by rejections and extremely talented.

    Memory bears, you probably know, are teddy bears sewn from articles of clothing a bereaved person chooses to represent the loved one who died. Bears are fashioned from bowling shirts, uniforms, blouses, event T-shirts, night-clothes and even baby blankets. They are soulful, oozing personality and cherished by the recipient.

    Glenna dropped off her freshly done bear and as I admired the pocket she had incorporated from the “Gilly’s Tavern” t-shirt on it, we chatted about the bear she had brought in the week before.

    It was a bear from an obviously well-worn  Bait Shop t-shirt. Glenna was telling me how her own father had loved to take her fishing when she was a little girl. He had died when she was only 15 and she wistfully talked about the time she caught a fish and dragged it up onto shore, her father laughing all the while. Glenna wiped a tear, apologizing for “taking up so much time” when the bereavement counselor, Sharon, walked in.

    I introduced Glenna to Sharon and Sharon thanked Glenna for making the memory bears. “Our clients just love them,” Sharon said and Glenna nodded.

    I could tell that Sharon was in a hurry, which was nothing new for a bereavement counselor. But bereavement counselors, I’ve found, have this aura about them that feels so, well…. kind.

    “Sharon,” I said, “before you have to run, Glenna is the volunteer that made the bear you just gave out, the fishing t-shirt bear.”

    “Really?” Sharon’s eyes lighted up. “I gave that bear to his granddaughter and I saw her last night in group and she told us this story. She took her bear home and that night brought it in bed with her. See, her grandfather was the one who raised her after her parents divorced. He loved to go fishing, and although she wasn’t very good or interested in fishing, she would go and watch him and read. Anyway, she had the bear with her and she had a dream. In that dream she and her grandfather were fishing by a big lake and she caught a fish and her grandfather turned to her in the dream and said,’ now see, I knew you could do it’. It was something her grandfather always said to her.”

    I could see Glenna’s eyes go wide and her mouth trembled, “that’s something my father always said to me.” She was crying now. (ok, me too). Sharon beamed.

    We can tell volunteers how meaningful their work is, but when their ears fill with real stories and examples, now that’s beyond volunteer management. It’s the magic of our job, the moment that we know exists, but we, as managers, well, we know to go looking for it and to stand back and let it happen.

    What do our volunteers need? Ahhhhh, many, many things. Sometimes recognition, sometimes socialization, sometimes to be left alone, and sometimes, they need a magic moment. Frankly, we need it too.

    -Meridian

  • Wading through Quicksand

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    -Meridian

  • Little Shop of Horrors

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    -Meridian

  • A Tale of Two Coordinators

    a tale of two citiesJan and Anna are two volunteer coordinators I know who work for the same organization. They each have one half of all duties and volunteer assignments. Their volunteers are evenly divided and their territory is fairly equal. They both have unique volunteers with unique needs, but in all, they regularly face the same challenges.

    Jan is serious, spiritual, creative and a perfectionist. Anna is funny, sometimes irreverent, personable and spirited. Each one brings a different style to managing volunteers. Jan’s volunteers find deep meaning in their volunteering, while  Anna’s are able to laugh off mistakes. Jan’s volunteers are given clear directions, while Anna’s are given permission to “wing it” whenever they need to.

    On the surface, each style has its own merits and own shortcomings. But let’s look at how each style curves off course.

    Five years later, Jan is incredibly unhappy. She has become rigid and full of resentment. She complains that some of her volunteers don’t get that their attendance is important and that staff members are not appreciative of volunteers. In her words, “rules are not being followed”. Her creativity has shut down and she has immersed herself in scheduling and obsesses over the “correct” way.

    Anna is relatively happy. She has more volunteers who have gotten into trouble, but she makes do. She often has holes in her schedule, and sometimes brings volunteers on board before they are screened or trained. Serious volunteers have been turned off by her flippancy. She has volunteers who have emerged as leaders, but they often don’t give correct directions. She has much more chaos to contend with.

    We each have a management style. Sometimes, when we are unhappy and resentful, we must look at our own style to see if there is something we need to change. If we are not fluid in our styles, we run the risk of becoming rigid or immersed in chaos. Volunteer managers instinctively know that each volunteer requires a different style.

    I once had the following conversation with a really strongly opinionated gentleman:

    He: You manage volunteers, wow, how hard can that be?

    Me: It’s challenging, don’t forget, these volunteers are not paid employees, yet they do some incredible work.

    He: So what, you just tell them what to do.

    Me: Perhaps, but would that work with you?

    He: Sure, why not?”

    Me: Would your wife do what I tell her to do, just by my asking?

    He: Her? No way!

    Me: How would I then convince her to do what I ask?

    He: Ha! That would take some major work!

    Me: Ahhh, therein lies the challenge, would you not agree? Each volunteer requires something different from me.

    Whether lighthearted, serious, creative, leave-alone, encouraging, mentoring, praising, educating, empowering, we take a different tack with each volunteer. We are as mutable as 24K gold. If not, we run the risk of becoming resentful like Jan or mired in chaos like Anna. The sad part of this tale is that Jan is a wonderful, creative manager who allowed her perfectionist side to take over her style. Anna kept her job in perspective, but she is losing some incredibly intuitive volunteers by being too jokey. Anna is in a much better frame of mind, but Jan had some really great programs, at least in the beginning.

    So, how do we survive? We laugh at that which is laughable and get serious about that which is serious. We look over our volunteers and see them each as unique, needing unique direction from us. Jan will quit; you can see it coming. Anna won’t, because, unlike Jan, she personally is not letting things get to her. However, her more serious volunteers have to find their own way.

    Too bad Jan and Anna could not have cloned a part of each other and become two Jannas. What great, enduring volunteer managers they would have made!

    -Meridian

  • Beneath that Iceberg’s Tip is a Whole Lotta Ice

    “Where’s Craig? Where’d he go? What do you mean, he’s not coming in?” Sigh, if you have a moment,  I’ll try to explain it to you.

    Craig is a volunteer who is unique in every way, but good unique. He is dutiful, and soulful and there is just something about him that makes me feel really good. It’s obvious he gets it. I know when he says he’ll be there he will. I know when he strums his guitar by the bedsides of the terminally ill, his raspy voice connects. What a find, I tell myself. How did we get so lucky?

    But, after a short time and a long lasting impression, Craig had to quit. That’s the dangerous tip everyone sees. What lies beneath is a massive cold behemoth of ice that only I know about.  See, Craig lost his job, but that didn’t deter him from volunteering and after all, every unemployed person is eager to volunteer, right?

    But then his wife became ill and she stopped working. They had to move (not far) and Craig sold his car. He’s now an unemployed caregiver without transportation. His bills are not being paid on time. An independent man, Craig is on assistance. His spirit has been crushed. He doesn’t feel like helping someone else when he needs so much help himself and he doesn’t want to hear how good volunteering is for him, nor does he need time away from his problems. He’s broken and he has to fix himself.

    Craig is gone. And my sadness encompasses his problems, his broken spirit and the loss of a great volunteer. I can hope that he will return when things get better but somehow deep in that well worn gut I know that it will be a long, long time. I want everyone to understand his departure and to want to reach out to him, but I see the staff and other volunteers walking by and he asked me to keep all of this private. I will, but I want to TELL everyone. I want someone else to look over the side of the ship and see that destructive iceberg below the water line.

    I see the accusing eyes of the staff when they ask me, “Where’s Craig?” Did you do something to him, they wonder. Why did you fail to keep him?

    No I didn’t do anything and I can’t really tell you why he’s not here except to give you some generic reason. You see, we’re navigating some pretty rough seas and there are plenty of obstacles to volunteering. The water hides them from your view but volunteer managers see them lurking everywhere. And beneath every tiny icy tip is an iceberg.

    -Meridian

  • Apples to Rotten Apples

    Today, I’m sorry, but I have to issue a dire warning. Do NOT treat your volunteers too well. Don’t be too nice, too accommodating, too flexible, too encouraging. Nope, everything you’ve learned and know instinctively about volunteer management is wrong.

    There is this volunteer, Mabel, a sweet very genteel retired school teacher. She is so classy. She was raised in the era of good manners, respect and hard work. Mable has been volunteering for over nine years. She is dependable and a pleasure. So, hmmm, what could possible go wrong?

    Mabel branched out. She heard the call for volunteers to help in another part of the organization, away from daily contact with volunteer staff. She called me yesterday and in her sweetest manner, asked me why she was being treated so poorly by her new boss. She was convinced that she was inept, a poor volunteer, and (gasp) too old to do the job. Whatever did she do, Mabel wondered.

    I listened without speaking, all the while thinking (just let me get my hands on you, staff member who made her feel that way. Nine years down the drain.) I assured her that she was a fantastic worker and valued by our organization. (Who could be mean to her, I mean, seriously?) I told her that with her permission, I would speak to the staff member in charge of her duties.

    I gathered my thoughts and went to see the aforementioned staff person. I walked down the long hallway into the bowels of finance and billing and serious stuff. I politely knocked and entered the painfully tidy office. “Hi, Jerice,” I said. “I’m here to talk about Mabel, the volunteer if you have a minute.”

    Jerice rolled her eyes. I told her Mabel’s concerns and Jerice replied, “She’s a very nice lady but she isn’t a very quick learner. I’ve had to show her how to do the same job three times.” (Three times? If you knew the record number of times I’ve had to show a volunteer something, you’d faint!)

    Jerice shifted uncomfortably and then got defensive. “I thought volunteers were supposed to help, not take up more of our time. I’m really too busy to be constantly showing… blah, blah, blah.” As Jerice prattled on about how busy she was, I started daydreaming. In this daydream Jerice was a little girl in a classroom and Mabel was her teacher. Jerice couldn’t get the math problem and Mabel, in a booming voice yelled, “Jerice! You are the dumbest little girl I’ve ever taught!”

    Ok, that’s mean. No, in the daydream, Mabel is patient and kind, just as she always is. “Jerice,” I said. “Mabel has been a faithful, hard-working volunteer for nine years. We don’t want to lose her. If this is not the spot for her, please tell me and I will happily take her back in our area. Happily!” You see, Jerice, Mabel has already had an experience here. And she is comparing that experience. It’s not apples to oranges, it’s apples to rotten apples and your apples are oozing rot.

    Jerice calmed down and said she did want Mabel’s help. Funny, she never once asked if Mabel was happy or if she had any thoughts on her experience. Maybe she just needs to get to know Mabel before she can appreciate her. Sadly, volunteers are faceless and feelingless to many. I have hope, but I will be watching closely. And at any sign of Mabel’s discomfort, I’m going to start baking a juicy mouth-watering apple pie and invite Mabel home.

    -Meridian

  • Um, Now That I Know This, What Can I Do?

    Yes, I trained Lisa. She sat in class with the rest of the group and offered comments, answered questions just like anyone else. I didn’t quite get the sense that she wanted to help like most other trainees, but that certainly didn’t disqualify her. I’m too afraid to make a judgement up front like that because I have been horribly wrong in the past.

    Anyway, Lisa left a voice mail message the other day. She couldn’t come in for her shift. What she did not realize is she failed to hang up and when her cell phone rang, she answered it. The voice message recorded the whole conversation. I suppose I should have deleted it before I heard it, but it happened so fast…

    It went (in short) something like this…

    “Yeah, oh hi! No, no, it’s ok, I’m not doing anything. I know, I know. Uh huh, uh huh, tonight? I think I can. No, he doesn’t suspect a thing. No, no, I can tell. No, Roger’s f#@$ clueless. I can’t wait to #@#$ ….”

    Well, you get the rest. Roger is her husband by the way. Curse those message machines that accept long messages. Curse me for not hanging up. (what’s that say about me, shudder?). But curse having knowledge that I don’t want to have in my head.

    Now, Lisa, who was before this knowledge, a potentially good volunteer, is a smarmy cheat in my eyes. She has a right to her privacy. Thankfully, I don’t know most of what goes on in the private lives of the volunteers. We volunteer managers get involved in enough of it.

    There’s not much I can do about what I heard, except try to put it aside and concentrate on whether Lisa does a good volunteer job, just like any other volunteer.

    But I know that the next time I see her, I will hear some of those descriptions in my head. I can’t promise I won’t be stand offish or give her a judgmental look. I do know, that if I pick up another voice mail from her, I’ll just delete it and call her back. Shudder or I’ll have to get therapy.

    -Meridian