volunteerplaintalk

Tag: volunteer manager

  • Uh Oh, The Back of the Head

    Jo is a really generous person and a great volunteer. She lives alone with her dog, Sally (a toy poodle). She is a widow and has children that live in another state. She is full of life and laughs easily. She is a breath of fresh air.

    The other day Jo came in for her weekly volunteer duties. It was after Christmas. Only one family member, her son could make the visit to see her, and he had to go back right away. She said it was really nice to see him. As Jo turned to go, I noticed the back of her head, or her hair to be more specific. It was all matted, like she forgot to comb that part. “No!” my mind shouted, “not Jo!”

    See, that’s my visual cue, my telltale sign, my notice to start watching. Now, it’s possible Jo didn’t get enough sleep or she was just worn out from the holiday or maybe she just forgot. Yeah, that’s what I tell myself with all of them. But then I notice them asking the same question over and over, or the not remembering who works in the office or sometimes a general confusion. The guys might have a spot on a previously immaculate shirt or wear two different socks. These are the warning signs, subtle yet unmistakable.

    They are failing. They, too are only human and capable of getting older. “No! I want them to stay the same!” They are so comfortable, so dependable, so like a warm blanket on a frosty night. I don’t want to replace them with someone new, someone who doesn’t know the job, who doesn’t have the commitment, who doesn’t make me smile. But most of all, I don’t want to see them fail, to be another one who can’t come in anymore and who chalks it up to life, who takes things in stride and honorably slips away. It reminds me of Bobbie who developed ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease) and kept coming just like my tears.

    “Ouch“. I don’t want to sit at another bedside and pat a hand and talk about how much her volunteer service meant. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to put into words how I felt about each one of them. I kissed Jay on the head and he whispered “I love you.” I held Heloise’s hand and she stroked my cheek. I sat beside Ben and said “hi” and his body stirred. And so many others.

    Did they know they were more than just volunteers? Did they know that they inspired me and made me a better person? I think I’ll not take the chance with Jo and tell her while she is still volunteering. It will humble me and that’s not bad. And although she doesn’t comb the back of her hair, I will continue to cherish her and to be grateful for the opportunity to know her.

    And yes, I will be at her bedside when that time comes. She deserves that and so much more.

    -Meridian

  • When Will I Learn?

    So I have this unwritten rule that I break every so often. The rule is, “make every person who wants to volunteer go through the proper channels.” I always get burned when relaxing that rule and then I promise myself to never break it again.

    Yup, did it recently and here’s what I learned about myself. A just early retired baby boomer, Stephen came in and wanted to explore his options. He volunteers for a gardening club and for a no kill shelter but he wants to volunteer with people too. He has a great deal of time on his hands and wants to put it to good use. (I’m listening, Stephen). We spent a good hour and a half talking about how he needs to do something meaningful with his life. (You’re singing my tune, now).

    Since I did not have any structured orientations coming up in December-holidays I’ve found bring out mainly people who want to volunteer just on Christmas, the rest are pretty busy with their holiday plans, so the next orientation will not be until January. Stephen wanted to start “right away.” Now, these two words normally send red flags, but there was something about Stephen. (I wanted to HELP him-nice of me, huh?).

    I set up a quick one on one training with him and showed him some videos, etc. I made sure to tell him that this was a “special training” and that I “believed in him”. (I’m really full of it, did he really believe that?)

    I made him promise that he would take the full orientation when it was offered and he promised. (I’m really proud of myself by now). I then told him he could shadow another volunteer in a care center so that at least he could “get started”. (what I saint I am).

    Stephen shadowed a really good, seasoned volunteer. I called to see how it was going and talked to him and his mentor. We set up another time to shadow. (see, I follow through well). After the second time, his mentor told me that Stephen seemed very quiet and a bit overwhelmed. (no, that couldn’t happen, could it?) I called Stephen and left a message. The next day, I got an email (email? I thought we were sympatico!) from Stephen that simply stated he did not think this volunteering was a good fit for him. (what! after all I’ve done!)

    I think after a week or so, I will call him and offer the normal path to volunteering. (which I should have done in the first place). And if he refuses, then I will chalk this one up to breaking my own rule. (love it when you get that reinforcement).

    Next time, I will be more careful. (who am I kidding?) No, really, I need to stick to that which I have learned over the years. If volunteering is worth doing, it’s worth doing it correctly. And if managing volunteers is worth doing, it’s worth doing correctly too.

    Man, I’m tough.

    -Meridian

  • Encourage or Manipulate, That is the Question

    Well, I’ve been having this internal conversation for a long while. Getting the best out of the volunteers is my job, right? And I truly want them to do their best. There is nothing more satisfying than seeing a volunteer glowing from a really great experience. And what about the feedback from those we serve? It’s like Christmas when giving that praise to a volunteer.

    So, why am I having this conversation?  Oh, about six or seven years ago, a friend of mine overheard me speaking to a volunteer on the phone. When I finished, my friend looked at me and said, “that was masterful manipulation, you know that?” Ouch. “You think I’m manipulative?” She rolled her eyes. “C’mon, that’s what you do.”

    Fine, I should just let that go, but ever since then, I have had an internal ear that keeps hearing just a bit of manipulation. There’s the volunteer who needs constant support. Do I really, really believe what I’m saying when I tell him once again, “we are so appreciative of all your time. You are a constant support to our families.” Honestly, sometimes, I’m tired of spending an hour hearing how inadequate he is and wonder if he’ll ever be able to stand on his own.

    Then there’s the volunteer who talks incessantly and nitpicks, but does a job that truly no one else wants to do. Not having the time to listen but listening anyway because it’s easier than trying to find a new volunteer is ok, right? Frankly, I’m the one being manipulated, but oh well, the job gets done.  Am I encouraging her? Maybe placating is more like it.

    But the internal conversation really heats up when I work with a particular group of talented professional volunteers who, I’ve noted need a great deal of attention and dare I say it, encouragement. They expect more hand holding, more fetching of coffee, more concierge behavior, more running interferrence. Someone asked me, “how can you stand working with these people?  They’re so needy and demanding, and ugh, their egos are huge.” My quick answer was, “yes, but the end result is so worth it.” Hmmmmmm. So, morphing into the volunteer coordinator they want and need produces a desired end result. I guess each and every volunteer produces an end result and how they get there is in large part determined by how we manipu… er, encourage them.

    While manipulation is self serving and encouragement is holding the welfare of everyone at heart, the two are cousins, one noble, the other a devious craftsman.

    “Oh, we couldn’t do it without you.” says manipulation while encouragement tsks from the corner. How many times have volunteers said to you, “I’ll bet you praise everyone.” That makes me wonder, does some praise sound hollow and do some volunteers honestly believe that we just spew mindless gratitude? It is difficult to individualize all feedback but fortunately most volunteers sense sincerity. Staying grateful and aware keeps praise truthful. For the most part it all works, until that annoying voice, dripping with sarcasm asks, “did you really mean that or are you just being manipulative?”

    I will continue to monitor my praise o meter. When it starts to sound generic, I’ll go back and remember that each volunteer is an individual with unique needs, triggers and an ability to smell insincerity a mile away. If I don’t, I’ll just have to get used to hearing, “Oh, I’ll bet you say that to all the volunteers.” And sadly, they’d be right.

    -Meridian

  • Letting it Show

    So, Monday morning at oh, about 8:45, a prospective volunteer, Josh pops into the office. Unfortunately for me, I have an office that is accessible from the street. No receptionist buffer, no long trek to get to me; I’m smack dab in position to be the first breathing being you encounter. Now, this is not just any nutso morning. No, this is the morning after an entire week, including Saturday, all day Sunday and Sunday evening of continuous events culminating in a huge one on Sunday.

    Why would I come into work on Monday after such a week? Smaller events were happening Monday and there was much to still be done. Anyway, there was also a meeting involving volunteers that was to start at 9am and I knew that the volunteers would wander into my office because they had not been informed as to where the meeting was being held.

    So two staff members were in my office while the volunteers poked their heads in, asking questions about the meeting. In the midst of it all, Josh walks in. The staff members finish their conversation and leave. Josh, who I had spent an hour and a half in a walk-in meeting the week prior, asks me, ” I was cleaning out my library at home and wanted to know if you could use some books for the patients to read?”

    Are you kidding me? Do you walk up to a fireman who is unraveling a hose and ask if he likes apple turnovers?

    I let it show. I let all the stress and overwork and bleary eyed tiredness show. In all my years, I’ve not done that but once or twice (ok maybe more, but not a lot) and every time I’ve felt really exposed. No, no, gotta have this cool, collected persona. The volunteers don’t need to see the stress and the work, that’s not their burden. I apologized to Josh and explained that this time was not an ideal time (which is why I explained to him last week that I could not contact him until later this week but he did not listen) Sigh, so I ended up spending another 30 minutes with Josh so that he did not leave with the feeling that he was a pest or a burden.  (Isn’t he though-so far, I mean?)

    Josh is a retired early, very cerebral man with no partner, children or other relatives close by except a mother in a town a few miles away. He told me initially that all the “fun” stuff he was supposed to do in retirement was starting to get old. After an hour or so, he told me that he thought he could really fit in with us and that I used “the type of words that made sense to him”. These words I used were “meaningful experience”, “journey”, “path”, “not just a number”, etc.

    So, Josh is a person who will be a really good volunteer. He just caught me at my worst on Monday. There are people who will, when poking their head into the office, say “oops, I can see you’re really busy” and people who don’t or won’t see it at all. That’s where the stress trap lies.

    Snapping at Josh is just as much about me as it is about cleaning up the relationship with him. I created my own problem by letting stress show. I had to spend another amount of time I honestly wasn’t prepared to spend answering his questions. I will have to call him the end of this week and be prepared to have an action plan with him or he’s gone.Volunteers can give us lip service by saying they understand we are busy, but the truth is, they want our time. And they need our attention.

    Now, the question is, “do we stop recruiting volunteers when we are at our own personal maximum?” No, we don’t, because there is always that perfect shell hidden amongst the broken ones and as we walk the beach, we are trained to look down.

    If Josh is indeed that perfect shell, he will overlook the stress and insanity on Monday. I sincerely hope he will, for our patients’ sake, for his sake, because I know we can work together and he will do great things and ultimately for my sake, because, even though I know I’m human and sooo incredibly capable of failing, I want to think, somewhere, deep, down inside, I’m a fairly good volunteer manager.

    We’ll see. It’s not showing today. A good night’s rest takes care of that. Or maybe, that little voice after a chance encounter with a prospective volunteer jolted me back to reality. Take it easy and try not to let it show.

    -Meridian

  • Happy IVMDay!

    Today, November 5th is International Volunteer Managers’ Appreciation Day!

    I wish each and every one of you a day full of the knowledge that what you do truly makes a difference in not only the lives of the people you serve, but in the lives of your volunteers.  Without your help and guidance, your cheerleading, your patient ear, your taking the time, your endless attention to detail, your running interference, your following up, your standing up for them when you don’t even stand up for yourself, your clear explanations, your arriving so early it’s dark, your understanding of their needs, your staying later than you should because you have a home and a life, your adjusting to their wants, your advocating for their ideas, your tears when they are in pain, your laughs when they joke, your birthday cards and trips to the doctor, your meeting their grandchildren when they visit, your quick hellos when you don’t hear from them, your treating each one in the manner in which they will excel, without all of that, they probably would not even volunteer much less succeed.

    Be proud of your work, it is a ripple that extends far beyond what you see and hear. Helping people become better people is a noble profession, one that may not be as recognized as we would like. But we will continue to fight to make sure it is elevated so that our profession will attract the best and brightest.

    I’ve included a blurb from ehow and the role of the volunteer coordinator. Notice all the wonderful “perks” in there. It’s actually kind of funny!

    Be well, my friends and fellow volunteer managers. And Happy IVMDay!

    -Meridian

    From ehow-in their career section, on the role of a volunteer coordinator:

    Rewards and Challenges

    • Challenges a Volunteer Coordinator might face include people not showing up when or where required; someone unable to do the job assigned; someone who thinks the job is beneath them; ego battles between volunteers; and jobs not being done on time. But the rewards for having helped complete a major assignment are plentiful. Even on small events, or when only a few people are needed, by day’s end the positive feelings are palpable. There is a strong sense of completion and achievement, a personal satisfaction and certainty that all challenges have been met. A coordinator’s circle of friends often grows, too. The coordinator may be rewarded with gifts or special recognition, and if the budget allows, volunteers are recognized by a dinner or similar program to acknowledge their vital contribution. The coordinator is usually given pride of place.

    Home

    Check out DJ Cronin’s latest blog all about IVMDay
    http://djcronin.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/ivmd-volunteer-managers-acknowldged-and.html?spref=fb

  • When Zombie’s Attack

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    -Meridian

  • The Circle of (Volunteer Manager’s) Life

    I was watching the Lion King with my granddaughter the other night. Love that movie and hearing her sing “I just can’t wait to be king” is hilarious. I started thinking as I watched the jungle unfold, “what would a volunteer manager Disney movie be about?”  Well, it might be a bit like this:

    In this Disney movie the volunteer manager is a cute, spunky rabbit, “Willing” or “Willie” for short who gathers all the woodland creatures together to save the forest. There’s the socially challenged skunk, “Clingy” who shyly wants to fit in somewhere. She is shunned by the other animals and wants to spend all of her time with the rabbit and become best of friends. ‘Clingy” the skunk even gets the rabbit’s cell phone number and thinks nothing of texting or calling “Willie” at home during rabbit dinner.

    Then there’s the old wolf, “Change”, a predator really who, now that he’s older and lost his mate and most of his pack, would like to do something to help the forest. He’s been alpha male his whole life, cheated on his mate, fought with the other wolves and lived to serve his needs. Now, he’s aging and afraid of death. He is docile, more like a dog than a proud wolf but his heart is strong. He obediently accepts whatever the rabbit gives him and checks in constantly to make sure he’s done the job correctly. “Willie” both admires and fears “Change”, and shivers when “Change” smiles, because his teeth are still sharp.

    The squirrel, “Nutso” is busy, always gathering nuts and running from tree to tree. “Nutso” chatters and says yes to anything the rabbit asks, then scurries off across the branches. The squirrel seldom follows through, but scampers back in and asks, “why didn’t you call me Willie? I would have come running?”  The squirrel is full of great ideas and even greater excuses. Willie finds “Nutso’s” half-eaten nuts buried everywhere.

    The owl, “Stable as Hell” is the wise bird who shows up occasionally. How the rabbit wishes there were 50 wise owls because “Stable” not only does what is asked of him, he gives the rabbit good feedback. He only gives what is asked and then flies off, those great wings fanning the leaves as he goes. “Willie” chases after “Stable” as he flies away, tripping over a half-buried nut, bruising his rabbit paw.

    The deer, “Meekly” is quiet, preferring to work in the back and would rather support all the other creatures. The deer is shy by nature and the rabbit needs to encourage the deer. Without praise and acknowledgement, “Meekly” can’t tell whether she has done the job correctly. The rabbit needs to be close at hand to answer the deer’s questions and assure the deer that she is needed. While “Willie” is sitting by the deer, “Clingy” becomes jealous and storms out.

    Then there’s the hunters, “the bean counter gang” who come with guns. The rabbit has to protect all the woodland creatures from the hunters who will destroy the work with their mean comments and refusal to integrate the animals into their world. They complain bitterly, destroy nests, forcing the animals to rebuild elsewhere. “Willie” is on constant lookout for these humans. There is one human “Exceptional Staff Member” though, who hikes quietly into the forest and brings food and water and does no harm, so the rabbit is hopeful there are others like him.

    At night, “Willie”, exhausted, returns to the rabbit hole where the rabbit family awaits. It’s time for a rabbit aspirin and a glass of carrot wine. There is the rabbit spouse and the rabbit children and homework and chores and family gatherings.  “Willie” loves it when rabbits from other parts of the forest call and share advice and stories. There are tales of the snake and the hawk and the very sick mouse. As “Willie” snuggles down into the burrow, she dreams of a perfect forest. “I’ll get there one day” she mutters as the rabbit alarm shrieks. “Willie” sits up, her mind reeling with the many tasks facing her. The hunters will be out in force today. Stretching, “Willie” picks up her phone and makes a note to stop and buy two more bottles of carrot wine.

    -Meridian

  • Boo! Why Are We Afraid to Talk About Certain Things?

    What goes bump in the night? A volunteer who creates problems? Too many volunteers and not enough work at a project site? Staff who consistently don’t follow through? Volunteers who undermine the work?

    As I watched a video championing volunteers and their service, I found myself sensing dread. I felt an unseen cold hand touch my shoulder. It’s the hand of realism.  And my hair moved ever so slightly as the words filled my ear, “in a perfect world. But you don’t live in a perfect world, do you?”

    Ahhh, that voice, so chilling and unwelcome. When I took this job, I signed up for sunshine and roses, didn’t I? I signed up for kittens and puppies, not the ghostly vapors that run chills up the spine. And why are these ghostly vapors so frightening? Because I think I’m the only one who has these problems.

    When all you hear is inspiration it’s like drinking apple cider laced with honey and powdered sugar. I’ve eaten the bag of Halloween candy, from the candy corn to the gooey marshmallow chocolates . And I’ve had the stomach aches that go with this overindulgence.

    Please, instead, inspire me with acknowledgement of the monster challenges we face. What about the volunteers who have no job, just want to get out of the house and have no real connection to the mission? What about the overzealous volunteer who calls and stops in constantly? What about the volunteer who is so inappropriate but wants to volunteer and your heart breaks for them? And no, don’t tell me that you just find a spot. I’ve done that and the amount of work I had to put in was frightening, not to mention I had to shield them from caustic comments. What about uncooperative staff who drive volunteers away and then turn around and complain when they can’t get a volunteer? What about administration who only hears the occasional complaint from some third cousin’s next door neighbor? What about respect?

    No, please stop putting caramel on my apple. My apple has bruises on it so don’t just cover it up. You can pretty it up all you want, but underneath the bruises are still there.

    I like inspiration and I find it all day long. But I also live in a real volunteer world. And, I don’t want to go into a haunted alley saying, “oh look, what are those creatures over there? They must be grown up puppies and kittens!”

    Volunteer management is like the B movie where the ditsy girl or the self-absorbed tough guy get trapped in a cabin full of zombies. They have wandered in unprepared for the onslaught of brain-eating creatures. (Ok, I just wanted to use that metaphor). Having to rely solely on their wits and the kitchen knives they frantically rooted out, these hapless souls battle for their lives. Some make it out because they adapted, and some don’t.

    I’ve been a volunteer manager long enough to make it out. But I fear for those who are new to our profession. They may only be hearing the talk about puppies and kittens. For them, when the zombies attack, their only weapon will be gooey marshmallow candy.

    Brains, anyone?

    -Meridian

  • In My Clinical Opinion…

    One of my good friends who is a volunteer coordinator has a volunteer, Janelle that we frequently discuss. The other day we were talking about Janelle and my friend was describing Janelle’s erratic, over the top behavior. See, Janelle is a very talented artist and wants to help that organization start an arts program for disadvantaged youth. Great idea and my friend would love to see this program flourish.

    So, what’s the problem? Well, Janelle is unique. My friend said that she had tried to describe Janelle to a counselor and the counselor said that if you are not clinical then you shouldn’t use clinical terms like “manic” or “delusional”.

    Hmmm. So, as she was trying to non-clinically describe her frustrations with Janelle and the torrent of over the top ideas that Janelle throws at her, I said, “so, she’s nuts, right?”

    Ahhh, can we say that? Well, last I checked, nuts is not a clinical term. And if you practice volunteer management, you have created your own clinic. In our clinic, there is the crazy volunteer, the insane volunteer and the volunteer whose elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top floor.

    There, I said it. Janelle is just one example of the many volunteers we deal with everyday. She is that perfect shiny apple you pick up off the fruit stand. It is a work of art. And then you turn it over and find that bruised spot that indicates some rotting inside. Do you put it back or do you just eat around that spot? You know what I’m talking about. We take volunteers in all shapes, sizes, agendas and craziness levels. How deep and troublesome is their bruised spot?

    Can my friend create a successful arts program while working with a “nuttier than a fruitcake” volunteer? I have all the faith in the world in her. Why? She’s smart and she’s resourceful. She’s eaten enough fruit to know when a grape is just not worth saving. I think Janelle will be fine. Just watch out for the fruit flies, those little harbingers of fruit going unmanageably bad.

    No, I’m not going to tell a volunteer that he’s flipping out of his mind. But, since I can’t diagnose them except in volunteer manager terms, I’m stuck with “wack-a-doodle” and “one fry short of a happy meal”.

    I love having my own little clinic. I think I’ll call it ‘The Fruit Basket.” All fruits and fruitcakes welcome!

    -Meridian

  • The Jekyll and Hyde of It

    So, I’m picking up my messages at home. There’s the usual “selling me something” plus “will you vote for me” messages coming up. Most everyone I know calls my cell now. But wait! There, buried in the middle of all the spam is a message that begins with, “Hello, Meridian, this is Clovis, remember me?”

    Ahhh, yes, how could I not? Clovis volunteered with us more than fifteen years ago. Her son had died from a prolonged fight with cancer and she had come to us to volunteer. It had been a year and a half since his death and she was feeling the need to do something with her life other than be retired. I want to say that she was a great volunteer. I want to say that she was a really good volunteer. I can say that she was a consistent volunteer and always showed up. Looking back on her two years of service, I cannot really say why.

    Clovis worked in the office. She filed, helped with mailings and other assorted tasks. She was pretty good, don’t get me wrong, but what Clovis did was talk incessantly. We’ve all had volunteers like that, the chatty ones who talk continually. Some even talk over you as you try to get a word in about how to do a task. Clovis, though, talked incessantly about her son and his death and particularly about her son’s wife and how she did not do right by him.

    We offered bereavement which she accepted. But as often happens to volunteer managers, I became the de facto listening ear. And so, for two years as Clovis dealt with the death of her son and all the trappings, I heard her. It was ok, believe me, because I was newer to the profession and a heck of a lot younger. I had the energy and truly, I never thought for a moment that being everything a volunteer needed, no matter what they needed was just part of the job.

    I vividly remember one afternoon in particular. I came around the corner of the hallway and found Clovis weeping into the arms of another woman. The problem was, that other woman was a caregiver who was in the process of losing her loved one. Sigh. To this day, I use that example when teaching boundaries. Even though Clovis never worked with patients and families, she did at times encounter them as they came into the office. I shudder to think what happened outside the office in the general public.

    Clovis’ phone message was long and rambling. She had broken a bone and was in rehab. She just wanted me to know. We all know what that is code for. I want you to call me or come see me.

    Now here’s the Jekyll and Hyde part. There are volunteers who are in nursing homes that have given long, faithful service that I have not seen in a while. Guilt follows me like a pack of hyenas after a wounded zebra.

    Did Clovis give that same amount of service? She certainly thought she did and in her own way, she gave what she could. How dare I judge her for that.

    Do I want to sit and hear her for an hour or two. “No, don”t waste your time” whispers Jekyll in my ear. It’s like going back to that relationship that never worked out. I just don’t think I have the patience anymore. After all, would I want Clovis back as a volunteer? Not really, if I’m brutally honest. So I deleted the message.

    Somehow, though, I clearly remember the name of the nursing home and room number from the message. Hyde is caressing my other ear with tales of what a nice person I am. Not used to be-still am. Where is that idealistic, I can turn anyone into a productive volunteer person? After all, isn’t volunteering a kind of symbiotic relationship? And besides, how can I try to teach people to be empathetic and not be empathetic myself? Pretty darn hypocritical, I’d say. And really, did I listen to Clovis all those years ago because I was so darned nice or was it because I held a loftier view of myself and my capabilities? Ouch, don’t go there Mr. Hyde.

    Jekyll is laughing at me as Hyde keeps trying. What is that room number again? I think I still remember it so we’ll see who wins this battle. Maybe I can send a card or call and leave a message. Or maybe, I’ll give in to Jekyll and take an actual firm stand. Room 601 you say, Mr. Hyde? Got it.

    -Meridian