Tag: volunteer manager

You know how some days just feel wrong?  Today was one of those days. I had been reading some very interesting articles about volunteer management and started getting ideas that I could adopt for the volunteers I work with when a little voice said, “It’s Friday. Who cares? You’re overworked, underappreciated and tired of the struggle. Give it up.” I wasn’t happy to see any of the volunteers today. I wasn’t all that funny or nice or anything. I was blah.

As I was sitting there, staring at the computer, willing it to make me feel better, the phone rang. I don’t know about you, but when it rings on blah days, I sometimes let voicemail pick it up and then I call back later. It makes me feel more in control I guess. But for some reason I reached for it. Must be habit.

I answered and it was Monroe calling from Des Moines where he now lives with his mother. Monroe used to volunteer with us. He is 23 years old. He moved to our area with his Mom to look for work. They lived in an apartment a block from my office with no car, no job and little resources except a grandmother who lived in the area.

He came into my office three years ago and asked to volunteer. He is one of these really, really quiet types; you know the ones who answer in monosyllables. He speaks in a voice that barely breaks a decibel and looks down as he talks. He is covered with tattoos and piercings and wears nothing but black. He has a goatee.

To be honest, I took one look at him and wondered why on earth he would want to volunteer and would he scare staff, clients and other volunteers? I gave him the information for the next orientation and thought no more about it. Not only did he show up, he came to all six sessions, and participated, albeit in monosyllables. The other volunteers started to like him.

Monroe started volunteering in the office. He told me a little about his situation. I could lie and say he opened up, but he did give me some tidbits here and there. I happened to be working with some volunteers on a music project and I mentioned that to Monroe. He said he wanted to help. Now this is a project that a very select few volunteers who have extensive musical experience work on, but I brought Monroe along for a meeting and practice. He not only did anything asked of him, he asked to do more. He informed me that music was his passion.

From that day forward, Monroe became our go to guy for anything musical, whether it be production, setting up, getting snacks or toting heavy equipment. He became one of us very quickly and every single volunteer took him under a wing. I have to admit I drove him a few places and so did other volunteers. He was always very grateful. I got to see his apartment one afternoon when I gave him a ride home. He was very proud of his room.

His Mom could not find work and so they had to go back to family in Des Moines. I am not lying when I say I really miss him and so do the volunteers who worked with him.

After I happily greeted him on the phone, I asked him how he was doing and in typical Monroe fashion, he said “good.” I tried to extract more, but I did get that his mom had a job and so did he. He was working on writing music and doing well. He told me that he wanted to keep in touch with us and I was relieved. I asked him if he found a place to volunteer and he said that he had thought about it, but no, it wouldn’t be the same. He then told me that we were family to him.

We all have the chance to impact the lives of those we serve by providing the best volunteers we can. We all have those nuggets of success when a volunteer does a great job. But this is different. Monroe is a personal slice of joy for me. I don’t know how much his volunteering experience impacted him, but I can guess that we had a very positive impact on his self-esteem and psyche. I hope we did, and I hope that I never forget that everyone has something to offer. Volunteer managers are fortunate enough to be able to discover and cultivate the talents and desires of the folks we manage. The heck with blah. I’ve been reminded that it’s good.

-Meridian

I don’t know if you know that wonderful song that was so popular during the 1940’s. It became one of the poignant reminders that husbands, sons, brothers, fathers and friends were oceans away. I thought about that song yesterday and felt nostalgic as I worked with a couple who are new volunteers. They took the volunteer orientation a few weeks back and this was their second Sunday working. As we spent the day together, they told me of their families, their sorrows, their joys and adventures. Both had been married twice before. Both had buried two spouses and their world consisted of myriads of family members that intertwined like a vine that doesn’t know it’s out of control.

They are of the WWII generation and they worked hard yesterday, happily, intent on doing a good job. They were organized, industrious and matter of fact, the qualities that served them well throughout long, eventful lives. Raising children, grandchildren with and without a spouse will do that to you, especially when a great depression and war is thrown into the mix.

They approached volunteering with the same joy they reserved for family and golf. As a matter of fact, they were going to try to sneak in a few holes after they were finished. They seemed complete, content that life is complex and will often throw you curve balls. But what stood out to me was their sense of service. Service for service sake was all they craved. And that made me nostalgic.

The volunteers from that generation always seemed to hold service in the highest regard. They gave of their time because it was the right thing to do and no task was beneath them. This is the generation that rolled up their sleeves and got dirty. Today we are carefully crafting messages that will attract volunteers. We are using new verbiage that will hopefully coax baby boomers and beyond to give of their time. We use leader, mentor, coach, head of, specialist and other terms to make volunteering more exciting. We rework jobs so that they are more meaningful. We create panels or boards of volunteers so that they can manage themselves.

There is nothing wrong with changing to meet new challenges and change we must. But sometimes, I grow nostalgic for the days when we simply asked for help and the call was answered.

-Meridian

Annabelle died today. She was a volunteer, well, she used to be a volunteer about 10 years ago. She hasn’t volunteered lately and very little in the past 8 years because of declining health. She went quietly,in her home, surrounded by neighbors and friends. I wasn’t there. I was working. She had no children and her husband had died over 20 years before so she was a long time widow. No one around me really remembers her because she volunteered so long ago. I remember her.

Annabelle and I spent many an afternoon together. It was during a time when I managed a volunteer run thrift store. Anabelle did not get along with everyone. She was what some termed “crusty,” and yes, she had a gruff exterior. I always suspected she wore a wig, but I was brought up to not ask.

Annabelle lived alone and drove a big truck that sported a University of Notre Dame sticker. You see her husband was a professor at Notre Dame so many years before. Her husband taught during the time when Notre Dame was the most feared collegiate football team. She went to the games and grew to love the team.

She was a Midwesterner, a no-nonsense, tell it like it is person, a sensible woman of great character. Right was right and God help you if you did wrong. She didn’t make friends easily and the other volunteers gave her a respectful berth. Sometimes they complained behind her back that she was cranky, rigid and unforgiving. I told them she was a hard worker, dedicated and sincere.

Although she was quick to point out mistakes, mine especially, she did it forthright and so did not hold a grudge. We always had a clean slate because she gave me the opportunity to fix whatever was incorrect. She held me to a higher standard when I wanted to take the easier route. Underneath it all, she would have done anything for the shop. And me.

And boy, did I get her to do things. We would take her truck to pick up donated items from our customers. She wouldn’t lift, but would stand back and then rearrange the boxes in the bed, moving them around like giant puzzle pieces. On the ride back, she would comment on the folks that donated the items, what they might be and how we would best sell them.

Annabelle’s long time companion was her dog, JuJu. JJ as she called him, was a small mixed breed, scruffy looking dog with clear ocean blue eyes. She loved JJ, not like a child, but more like a best friend. They had equal status in her house and she would often make decisions with the help of JJ’s imagined input. They were inseparable and I would go to her home after she stopped volunteering to have tea and her scrumptious lemon squares and pet JJ as we reminisced.

I heard JJ is very old and will be cared for by a neighbor. He is frail and will not last long as I’m sure he will die of a broken heart.

Of all the volunteers I’ve known, why did she and I click so well? She was not the funniest, not the warmest, not the friendliest of the lot. But somehow, our paths crossed at the right juncture. She arranged the chaos and ordered a path into my heart. I shall miss her. I feel the prick of loss amidst peers who never got the chance to know her. Godspeed Annabelle. Your husband awaits, and JJ is not far behind.

-Meridian

Celeste missed her volunteer assignment yet again, claiming that she was tired and out of sorts. She didn’t bother to call either. The last time she called off, which was last week, it was because she just had her carpet shampooed and she had to keep the dog outside. The time before she forgot what day it was because she stayed up late to watch The Waltons. Do you think there’s a pattern here?

So what did I do?  Did I say “What a lame excuse!” “Why do you bother wanting to volunteer anyway?” Instead, I nicely said, “Awww, that’s ok honey, we understand. We took care of it, don’t you worry.” How many times have we said that to our volunteers while scrambling to replace them, sometimes running out to events or seeing clients ourselves?

Don’t you sometimes just want to say to a volunteer, “For cryin out loud, what makes you think that it’s ok to not show up? Why can’t you take this more seriously?” What’s worse? Not showing up, not calling in, missing assignment after assignment, treating the assignment cavalierly, coming late and leaving early, or a combination of the above?

While niceness is a lovely virtue, it doesn’t make for a good manager. A very wise manager of a large successful non-profit once told me that clear, concise messages delivered in a nice way shows the volunteer that they are needed and are scheduled because we expect excellence. Here is a great article from Peter Stark on nice managers. And hopefully, we will have many volunteers who are committed and see the importance of their work!

http://www.winstonbrill.com/bril001/html/article_index/articles/301-350/article324_body.html