“Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolution.”
…Kahlil Gibran
You have a volunteer that is problematic and you are at the point where you believe you have done everything possible to integrate that volunteer. You’ve examined your personal feelings on the situation and feel that you have removed emotion from the equation and are dealing with the challenge in a logical way. So, now what to do?
Well, think of this acronym- Face It: Fit, Attitude, Change Adaptability, and Expectations through Intervention within a Timeline. I know it’s a mouth and mindful but hopefully it will help in remembering how to go about working with challenging volunteers. When integrating a volunteer becomes difficult, use this acronym to see if, after interventions within a timeline, there is improvement. Let’s look at each letter in FACE IT.
Fit: How well does the volunteer fit, not only within the organization, but in her role, with other volunteers, and in the mission? Is the job just the wrong fit or does her philosophy not mesh with the organization’s mission? Does her personality clash with all other volunteers and staff? Is she there for some underlying agenda?
Attitude: Does the volunteer have a troublesome attitude? Does he incessantly complain? Does he undermine? Is he excessively negative? Is he disrespectful to his supervisors and co-workers? Does he feel that he is superior to the tasks and to the mission?
Change Adaptability: Is the volunteer able to weather change? Does she dig in her heels when faced with a new policy? Does she refuse to adjust and claims that because it was always done a certain way, you have no right to progress? Does she subvert the mission because she cannot accept new ways and new people?
Expectations: Is the volunteer meeting clearly defined expectations? Is he chronically late or a no-show? Does he ignore rules and regulations? Does he do whatever he wants without regard to organizational needs? Does he feel that it is not important to communicate with you? Is he a Lone Ranger, but without the white hat?
These are four pillars of excellent volunteering. When one or more pillars become troublesome, an intervention with that volunteer is necessary. Sometimes it’s just life’s stress that causes great volunteers to go off course. Intervention is never mean but instead, indicates that you notice a change in the volunteer’s behavior and that you respect this volunteer’s contributions and want to help him succeed.
But help without clear objectives and timelines is futile, so let’s look at the second word in the acronym and the steps of implementation.
Intervention:
1. Meet with the volunteer to discuss the area(s) that need(s) improvement.
2. Point to your rules and regulations, policies and procedures to illustrate your concerns.
3. Present your evidence, but emphasize your desire to help the volunteer succeed. While note keeping on volunteers may seem underhanded, without details on egregious behavior, your “case” is broad and hearsay. Besides, specifics help a volunteer see the exact behavior that needs improvement.
4. Reiterate your commitment to working with this volunteer and then lay a course for how the volunteer can improve.
Timeline: I can’t emphasize this enough-Timelines are critical. How long do we give a volunteer to improve? Having a clear deadline is effective. Having some random phantom goal in the future will doom your intervention every time.
1. Set follow up meetings at intervals to monitor improvement.
2. Make sure you collect evidence of the volunteer’s performance for further steps.
3. Always meet on premise.
4. Have at least one other staff member present. This not only gives you another set of eyes and ears, but limits the “he said, she said” aspect and shows the volunteer that you have the support of the organization.
5. Always leave interventions after asking if the volunteer understands the steps outlined, because if you don’t, that volunteer can easily say that he did not comprehend what was being discussed.
Interventions are usually enough to motivate a volunteer to succeed, especially if the volunteer is new (having a clear six month probationary period for all new volunteers helps too). But for the minute number of volunteers who do not improve, a “parting as friends” and a “wishing you well” is in order.
Without upfront, clear instruction and expectations, no manager can assume that volunteers know what is expected of them.
Rules, job descriptions, termination policies and the steps of intervention must be written and signed by each and every volunteer.
Infractions must be recorded and addressed immediately with volunteers.
Often, we view ourselves as too nice to point out egregious behavior. But really, we are not being too nice, we are just practicing confrontation avoidance.
Instead, the nice thing to do is to help a volunteer excel, not languish, unable to improve, isolated and ostracized by staff and peers.
The nice thing to do is to create an atmosphere of excellence, of lofty expectations, of volunteer quality so that your volunteers are proud to contribute and your clients are served by the very best.
Yes, I want to be tender and kind, and I will by being strong and resolute.
-Meridian
Isabella couldn’t wait to get back to the volunteer office and tweet. It had been a long day at her organization and 17 volunteers showed up at 5am to prepare packets, man booths, hand out water, snacks and awards at the annual Run for Awareness campaign. Staff members complimented her on the volunteers’ professionalism and how much they had contributed.
She thanked each volunteer as they helped with cleanup and then, thoroughly spent, she returned to her office where she shut the door and collapsed into her chair. She then pulled out her phone, accessed her account, @IsabellaVolMgr77 and tweeted:
#VoteYesOnProp37 Just met a guy at our 5K He is organizing a 5K next year to support Prop37 more details later!
What you ask? What does this have to do with her volunteers? Exactly! See, Isabella is very passionate about an upcoming election issue in her community and she tweets about her support for proposition 37 frequently.
So, all right, big deal, what’s the harm? Well, prop 37 is a divisive issue in her town and half of the towns’ folks are strongly opposed to it. (which means half of her active volunteers and prospective volunteers could be put off by her sharing of support for this cause.)
In another part of town, Randy, a volunteer manager for a small start up charity checked his twitter account @RandyHelpforNeedyOrg and smiled. His last series of tweets were pretty clever he thought. His tweets were:
#firstdatesareevil Getting ready for first date. Perspiration stains on shirt oh no!
#firstdatesareevil Almost there, salmon on grill, I’m feeling flaky too!
#firstdatesareevil Burned the salmon, dropped a drink, I’m doomed!
Am I getting picky here? Maybe. Because our jobs require emotional intelligence, we can understandably view volunteers as friends, compatriots and even followers on social media. It’s easy to regale them with our personal lives and our passions because they look to us as their bosses. But how much do we really want to draw our volunteers into our personal lives and views?
I’ve noticed over the years that there is a segment of the volunteer population, albeit a small one, that really wants to operate on a strictly professional level. They are the volunteers who are not interested in my family, my funny mishaps or my secret passions. I take no offense, because it’s literally not personal. They’re the ones who discreetly roll their eyes in orientation when I get too “cutesy” and want me to stick to the professional task at hand.
But back to tweeting and social media. Is there a fine line that we walk between acting in a professional manner and allowing our warm, engaging personalities to still come through? Can Pro(professional) and Per(personal) ever be ProPer? Absolutely. Let’s look at some examples of Per (personal) tweets and ways to seize an opportunity to rephrase them for volunteers and therefore make them do double duty and more Pro (professional):
Per tweet: Sigh, 3 car accident made me late to work today.
ProPer Tweet: Accident made me late to work today, makes me appreciate all the vols who consistently show up on schedule!
Per tweet: Hey guys, here’s my favorite funny cat video!
ProPer Tweet: Here’s my favorite funny cat video, humor is a great stress relief, don’t forget to take care of yourselves!
Per tweet: I’m voting for Candidate Jones!
ProPer tweet: Met volunteers at a candidate Jones rally, they are passionate and committed, reminded me of our volunteers who btw are the best!
Per tweet: Guy in line just argued with cashier who wasn’t fast enough. #jerksareeverywhere
ProPer tweet: Guy in line just argued with cashier for being slow. Reminds me to again thank our vols for being so patient when I forget to call back!
The sharing of ourselves-our humor, our love, our very humanity is a great way to connect with volunteers. And if you turn the personal (Per) into a message about them (Pro), you’ve successfully engaged the volunteers once again, which is a very proper thing to do.
-Meridian
Don’t you just hate it when everything becomes such a fine line? I’ve never encountered more fine lines than in volunteer management, except maybe when trying to decide a reasonable curfew for a teenager.
Cheryl is new to volunteering. She took a job that afforded her some free time so she wanted to give back. Scouring online ads for the perfect volunteer place, she decided to take training at a local chapter of a large organization. “I was excited, really excited, because I could picture myself actually helping people in my community. I never volunteered before, never had time before and I was nervous because I didn’t know what to expect. So I went to training which was pretty good and then I went to my first volunteer meeting. It was in the evening, and as I looked around at the volunteers coming in, I saw people who looked like they worked too, so that made me feel a bond with them. I took a seat in the back. It was fairly crowded and I spoke briefly to the man next to me. He said he was relatively new too, hadn’t gotten an assignment yet, but was looking forward to starting. The meeting began with the chapter’s director showing a power point highlighting the stats from a previous quarter. Then there were general announcements. I noticed that the same small group of volunteers spoke up with stories or questions and they seemed to continually refer to each other. I figured they were the long-term volunteers. Then they asked one of those volunteers to come up and talk about the upcoming needs. She listed several events and assignments and asked for folks to volunteer. I started to raise my hand, but she pointed at her group and before I knew it, they had all laughingly worked out the assignments. I looked at the man next to me and he rolled his eyes. I guess I should have been more forceful, I don’t know. I thought they wanted new volunteers, but now I’m not sure.”
Ahhh, the volunteer clique. It happens because of that fine line. When we need groups of volunteers to take on assignments, especially on-going assignments, we work extra hard to find personalities that will mesh. We introduce hand picked volunteers to each other and hope that the team will “click.” I know I get all tingly when I drop in on a group and they are chatting away, enjoying themselves and each other. It’s a real perk to volunteering. You can almost hear the team bonding as each person joins. Click, click, click. It’s wonderful. But then, because of that fine line, some teams, not most thankfully, will click so well that they become exclusive. They shut new volunteers out. They become suspicious of and sometimes actually sabotage the newbies.
New volunteers are as varied as long-term volunteers. Some are forceful, some are timid. But even under the best of circumstances, being new is challenging. So, what to do when introducing a new volunteer to an established group of seasoned volunteers in order to prevent cliquish behavior?
Here are a few things I learned by making mistakes with group culture. I hope these observations help you too.
1. Do not just drop the new volunteer into the group, even if it is only temporary. Talk about getting stiff behavior-I brought a new volunteer into a group one day and I thought I had walked into a meat locker, the response was so cold. Alert the group beforehand, talk to them in person, or call to keep from putting them on the spot. 2. Talk about the awesomeness of the group to the newbie and vice versa. Let the group know that this new person considers it an honor to join such a fantastic well-functioning group. 3. Appeal to the group’s sensibilities. I’ve said to groups, “I wanted Doug to join you because he’s anxious to do well and I couldn’t think of a volunteer group better able to show him the ropes.” 4. Make it temporary at first. I’d say, “Doug will be learning from you and then I hope that he can join a group of his own once he’s ready.” Sometimes the group will just love the newbie and take them in because the decision was their’s to make. If a newbie is not forced upon them, the group is often more receptive. 5. Check in often. Observing the dynamics of the group will tell you everything about how well the integration is working. Check in to let the group and the newbie know that you care about their success and how they feel about each other. 6. Reiterate that the organization wants to be inclusive of new folks. I’ve used phrases like, “we don’t want to be the best kept secret,” and “we want everyone to be able to have a meaningful experience. With your help, we can do that with our new volunteers.”
But what happens if all else fails? I’ve had groups that, when a member or two is out for extended periods of time get angry because the temporary newbie doesn’t operate just like good old Janet or Bob or whomever is missing. Then, when several newer volunteers tell me that they won’t work with that group because of the way they are treated, I know I have a problem, and it’s time for a heart to heart. And here’s where one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned comes into play: Don’t ignore a problem. Ignoring a problem only makes it fester.
The group and I will have a chat about change. (On their time and turf is best I’ve found so I “drop in”). Change and volunteers is like buying a smaller size skirt and hoping it will be good enough to wear at a presentation. Something usually pops.
So, we chat. The group may be worried that their missing member is sick and will never return. They may think that new volunteers will come in and critique them. They may feel like they’re not doing a good enough job, because if someone new needs to come in, what does that say about them?
But back to Cheryl and her experience. As volunteer managers, it’s our responsibility to monitor who gets called to service. We need to especially look out for new people and integrate them into the team. It’s better to look at everyone in the room when speaking and not appear to have favorites by chuckling over inside jokes or discussing past events in front of new people without explaining the context to them. Everything can be an inclusive and teachable moment.
It’s a shame that Cheryl’s volunteer coordinator did not approach the long-term volunteers prior to the meeting and ask if they would “show the ropes” to the newer volunteers. He/she could have asked, “is there anyone here tonight that is new and would like to join our wonderful seasoned volunteers who are happy to help you acclimate here?”
Then, Cheryl and maybe the man next to her would have had an assignment. And that organization would be one step closer to having another enthused ready to go volunteer.
-Meridian
All things evolve, says science and who am I to disagree although I frankly wish scientists would figure out how the brain can answer emails during REM sleep. (Don’t bother me now with your question, I’m flying! Hey! Is that a pig?) Anyway, it’s interesting to note how much volunteerism has evolved over the years and keeping up with trends is now a large part of a volunteer manager’s job. I often think back to how I viewed things twenty years ago and compare that to how I view things today. For better or worse, you can’t help but marvel at how your thoughts evolve with the times. In particular, I’m referring to the concept of good old risk management.
Risk management is one of those things that we must pay attention to, like it or not. It’s kinda like the caloric information on a caramel smoothie or your mother’s voice in your head when you’re about to follow that stray dog down a dark alley. (“But ma, he might need a home!”)
I’ve learned to view everything through the lens of risk management, no matter how corporate and sell-out it seems. I was never too happy being hauled up into the CEO’s office because a volunteer stole a client’s credit cards and went to Vegas. Nope, would rather not have to explain that one.
So, I looked back at my years as a volunteer manager and here’s how risk management evolved in my thought processes.
20 years ago: “Wow, you want to volunteer, that is so amazing, thank you, thank you, thank you! I can’t tell you how thrilled I am you chose us. My gosh, look at you, you are so wonderful! What? You want to bring your gun with you when you volunteer? Ummm, I don’t see the harm in that, the point is, you want to volunteer, I am so happy!! And have I said thank you?!”
15 years ago: “Hello and thank you for volunteering, we certainly can use a person with your skills. You are going to do so well here, I am convinced of it. What’s that? You wanted to tell me about your recent incarceration for grand theft? That is so honest of you, thank you for sharing that with me. Well, yes, we do a teensie background check, but we really want you to volunteer, so I will make sure that we get you started.”
10 years ago: “Welcome to our volunteering orientation. According to our volunteers, it is a privilege and honor to work with our clients and I trust you will feel the same. Now let’s learn a little about you. Uh huh, uh huh, what was that? Oh, you have made some mistakes in the past, I see, well, let’s move forward and I must tell you that we do background checks, but we will see what happens and deal with it when we have to. But now, let’s talk about how excited we are to have you volunteer.”
5 years ago: “Hello and welcome, I am so glad you are taking this first step towards volunteering with our great organization. Why don’t we take this opportunity to go over our rules and regulations. Because our volunteers are crucial members of the team, we do require them to pass background checks, fingerprinting and abide by the guidelines that allow all of us, myself included, to work with our clients in a professional manner. We are so glad you are here and want you to be at your best because that’s what our clients deserve and what will make your experience memorable.”
1 year ago: “Hello and let me preface this by saying that we only take squeaky clean volunteers here. You will be put through a rigorous screening, including drug testing, psychological profiling and searches every time you come on property. You will obey the rules at all times. Any infraction will require immediate termination. Do you understand? Now give me some hair strands for the drug test. You heard me, pull ’em out!”
All right, that last one was a bit exaggerated. And even though I still cringe when my first thoughts are, “what is the risk involved here,” I have learned to live with my corporate shill side. I still am thankful for each and every volunteer, and still feel warm and fuzzy towards the magic of volunteering.
I’ve just learned that when you expect excellence from volunteers, they step up and provide it. And any risk in striving for excellence is well worth it.
Hmmm, evolution doesn’t have to hurt so much.
-Meridian
The first time I met Alex many years ago, I noticed his manicured nails. He had the soft hands of wealth. His was not a gaudy proclaiming wealth, but an understated old mixed with new wealth. A retired corporate lawyer, with his much younger wife still working, he wanted to fill his days with something meaningful to do. He’d not had a hospice experience, but he’d heard that hospice was a good organization to volunteer for and he wanted to try it out.
He stuck out in orientation. From his formal weekend wear to his lawyer inspired questions, he animated the sessions with his analytical take on things. The rest of the diverse but more laid back class was somewhat intimidated by him. (Me too if you must know- and yes I tell myself that I’m no better and no worse than anyone else, but heck, my clothes wouldn’t keep their shape like his did).
After the six orientation sessions were over, I met with Alex in my office. He was polite and cerebral and together we formulated that with the help of a seasoned volunteer, he could begin volunteering in our care center.
Alex called me often to ask questions. He would show up at my office door every time he came in to volunteer. Knowing that he was used to doors always opening when he knocked, I allotted time for him. Was he smart? Oh my, I think I could have applied for 3 credits at a local college after listening to his measured thoughts.
Since the care center staff had really never seen anyone quite like him, I was peppered with lots of questions and comments. “One of those successful types,” a nurse said one day. “He asks a lot of questions,” another said and added, “you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
One day, a new patient, Lester came into the care center. A coal miner from West Virginia, Lester was in his late 80’s. His wife had died young and although he had no children, he had an old phonograph that played bluegrass music day and night. We all were used to walking past his room, hearing the lively strains of banjo, fiddle and mandolin drifting up and down the halls as if over the hills of a coal camp. As thin as a pick axe, Lester spoke of a time when his wife scrubbed his coal stained clothes until her hands bled and the chocking black dust laid upon the ground outside his camp house door.
Alex began to visit with Lester more frequently. He sat in Lester’s room while the phonograph scratched out “Foggy Mountain Breakdown,” and listened to Lester’s stories of moving from job to job until the mines became more mechanized. As time passed, Alex began to place his chair closer to lean over to hear Lester and I would observe him, elbows on knees, straining to catch the flooding memories. Then, one day, the absence of bluegrass music outside Lester’s door spoke volumes. Lester was actively dying and his phonograph had grown quiet. He had turned it off. Alex came to me and tentatively said, “I have an acquaintance who plays the banjo and knows any number of Lester’s favorite songs. Do you think I could ask him to come in and play for Lester?” We checked with the charge nurse and social worker and Alex was given permission to bring his friend in. By this time, Lester had not stirred from bed, but lay peacefully, quietly slipping away.
I skipped a meeting that day, shut my office door and crept down to the care center. The stomping good sound of the banjo’s strings was glorious. I peeked into the room and saw Alex’s friend’s frenetic fingers pick that banjo, his eyes smiling at Lester, who was now somehow sitting upright, a look of bliss on his worn face. Alex nodded to me from the very corner of the room. I wondered if Alex consciously picked the color of his shirt that day to blend in with the wall color.
Lester died two days later. Alex and I sat in my office, the lack of music deafening. He did tell me that his friend was honored to be able to play for someone who breathed those mountain roots. Alex got up to go. It wasn’t the time to badger him with questions about how he was going to process this experience, not yet anyway. Right then it was time to silently let it all sink in.
What makes a person successful? I’d say Alex pretty much had it all figured out.
-Meridian
One day several wise men were challenging each others thinking over tea. “If you were given the opportunity to sacrifice yourself for world peace,” the first man asked the group, “would you do it?”
“Yes, of course,” the second man said. The third man agreed. “If I were guaranteed world peace, I would do it, surely as it would be the right thing to do.” The fourth man rubbed his chin. “What do you mean by world peace?”
“Just that, world peace,” the first man said.
“Well, if world peace meant only for one day, then no, I wouldn’t do it,” the fourth man said.
Do we know what staff members, CEO’s, volunteers, and the community mean when they use certain phrases and concepts? And do those concepts mirror what we, volunteer managers define them as?
One day when I was feeling particularly feisty (or truth be told, downright crabby from hearing that a volunteer was sent home from an assignment at a health fair because a marketer brought her children to man the booth), I heard a staff member say, “we couldn’t do what we do without our volunteers.” Now, I know this is a lovely platitude, but being cranky, I asked, “really, that’s so nice, what do you think would actually happen if we didn’t have volunteers?”
She looked at me like I was a pompous jerk (and maybe I was). “Well, we probably couldn’t accomplish as much as we do.”
“Do you think we’d close?”
“Don’t be silly,” she said and walked away, I’m sure thinking that I was nuts and a pompous jerk.
But what is meant by common concepts that are continually used? What do some of the phrases we hear actually mean?
“We love our volunteers.” What does that mean? We love them individually and will bring them soup when they are ill or we love the idea that we have them? Or we love them as long as they don’t create any problems for us or take up our time or ask questions when we are busy?
“We’re volunteer friendly.” Really? How? Explain that to me. Do we hang out with our volunteers on a Saturday afternoon along with our good friends? Do we let them call us at home? Do we confide in them? Do we smile at them when we walk in but don’t notice that they have a broken arm because we are late for a meeting?
“Volunteers are the heart of our organization.” Hmm, are we talking about a crucial organ or a warm fuzzy feeling? Do we mean they truly inspire us to be more compassionate or is the term “volunteer” an abstract idea that we cherish, not real, breathing human beings that come in every day?
See, if you say volunteer engagement to a volunteer coordinator, there is a complex burst of ideas that go off in their heads, including the idea that engagement is a two way street. Ask any random staff member “what is volunteer engagement” and you may get a totally different view that does not include volunteers in leadership roles or the challenges in managing volunteers. And here is where an awful lot of volunteer manager angst lives.
So, the challenge is, how do we beat the concept of volunteer engagement into everyone’s heads? Wait, did I really say, that, whoah, I must have let that rabid little voice take over for a minute. Whew.
But seriously, we have bent ourselves into pretzel shapes for years trying to “educate” organizations on the true nature of volunteer engagement. Sometimes we’re kinda like the folks who show up at your door unannounced, either selling something, or trying to get you to accept their pamphlets on their religious and political beliefs. I know I have been like that.
Me: Knock, knock.
Staff: Who is it?
Me: Volunteer Services here to educate you on volunteers!
Staff: Um, I’m really busy, what with just coming from three meetings and my work is piled up. I just attended a seminar last week on fund raising so I’m a bit overwhelmed.
Me: Well, if you’ll just open the door, it won’t take more than 20 minutes.
Staff: Can you come back later?
Me: But this is important. Don’t you want to know about volunteers?
Staff: I already do, they’re great, gotta go, my phone is ringing.
Hmmm, if the knock knock method doesn’t work, now what? Well, maybe we should try a dialogue. I know, dialogue is one of those buzz words, but
we could seriously try asking organizational stakeholders the meaning (in their own words) of concepts that we think are important to bettering communication between volunteer services and staff. And if we do this with sincere intentions to learn where we differ from staff in how we view volunteer services, we might be able to begin work on closing the gap.
Hearing a senior manager’s explanation of volunteer engagement may make you angry and think, “how can he be so ignorant? How can she think that’s all there is to it?” But, if we put aside that anger and look at the disparity in thought, then perhaps we can begin to free ourselves to analyze how to make volunteer engagement better understood within our respective organizations.
With the keen desire to understand, we can try asking, “how do you view the volunteers’ role? What does the term volunteer engagement mean to you? What about volunteer involvement?”
Be prepared to hear some surface answers and some surprise answers and be prepared to question (in a non-judgmental way) those answers. “What makes you think that?”
We can ask, “what do you think the most important job a volunteer manger does and what are the challenges volunteer managers face?” Hearing the answers may initially make you defensive but in stepping back, may just make you see where the misconceptions lie between what the volunteer department actually does and the perceptions of the rest of the staff.
Again, this is dialogue, not mandates to change the way we view or do our work. How can we work together with staff to help them learn more about the challenges and organizational responsibilities of volunteer engagement?
If we want to get to a place where staff view volunteer engagement the way we do in all its complexities, perhaps we need a street map to get there. Discovering the diversity of ideas within our own organizations on common volunteer concepts and terms may just be the first step to the GPS we need to arrive together at that place where volunteer engagement is understood by everyone the exact same way in which we understand it.
-Meridian
My very first adult job required me to walk to the bus stop, take a bus to the train station, ride the train downtown and then walk from the train station to work. I followed the same path day after day. I knew the routine of the stores opening, the passing of the street sweepers and the smell of wet concrete. But one day, as I exited the station, the sidewalk was blocked with wooden barriers and I had to walk an unfamiliar way. As the sun peeked over the tops of skyscrapers, the deep shadows between buildings scared me. This morning, this sidewalk felt deserted, hostile and I thought someone would jump out at me from a back alley. But as I pulled my collar up tight against the shadow cold, and felt in my pocket for keys that might serve as a weapon, I caught sight of a tiny shop tucked between two mammoth buildings. “Rare books,” it proclaimed. I stopped and squinted into the store, relaxing my grip on the keys. Although not open yet, I could feel the comfort of the leather-bound pull through the window. Suddenly this street helped the sun reach over the steel and open up its gifts. I now had an alternate way to work.
Years ago, when Peter came to volunteer, I sadly have to admit, I pulled my collar up against the cold of the unknown. His multiple piercings and extreme quiet seemed as daunting as the dark buildings of an unfamiliar street. I was used to students who looked and acted familiar. You know the ones, the bright, talented and focused kids who give you the sense that all will be better in the years not yet decided.
Why was he here I thought. What trouble has he been in? A part of our jobs is to determine how much court ordered community service we can handle effectively. We ask, “what was the charge?” We root out the potential volunteer’s attitude towards community service and weigh whether or not he or she will be a benefit to our clients or a hindrance.
I asked Peter if he was required to volunteer and he said no. I relaxed my grip on preconceived notions and let my curiosity take over. It seems that Peter had finished high school in another area and moved with his disabled mother to our town. In between looking for jobs and caring for his mom, he wanted to give back. I asked him to come to the next volunteer orientation which was starting in a few days. He not only completed orientation, but also covered his tattoos and removed some piercings so as not to frighten the generations he would be volunteering with. His thoughtful, intense ability to hear the inner meaning of others made him a natural volunteer.
See, when a paid position is posted, HR departments comb through prospective employees to find the one that best fits that particular job opening. If an intriguing prospect has a different skill-set than the job posted, the HR professional can keep their application in a file for the future and hope that a job utilizing that skill-set comes open. It must be difficult to turn away quality people who just don’t quite match the open job requirements.
We, however, don’t have to turn away volunteers because we just have one slot to fill. We can utilize multiple people for one position and on the creative end, design new ways to use volunteers. It is immensely satisfying, creative and full of leadership potential.
When Anne came to volunteer I think I spent several thirty minute sessions just getting to know her. There was something about her intensity, abilities and talents that just did not fit the binder of possible volunteer jobs I had available. During our first meeting I found out she was a corporate sales trainer. (Volunteer Job=volunteer training? Hmm, maybe) In our second get together, we talked about her love of discipline and building lasting relationships in sales. (Volunteer job=administration? Maybe not so much). Our third meeting revealed that her mother died in a nursing home and she had a passion for those residents. (Volunteer job=nursing home volunteer? Yes, but she had mega skills) By the time we met again, I think I had a feeling for Anne’s tremendous potential. She ended up helping me increase our nursing home volunteer base by threefold. She spoke to new volunteers about the importance of volunteering in a nursing home. She personally mentored new volunteers in key nursing home settings and she co-facilitated nursing home meetings. She brought a passion coupled with mad skills to a newly created position.
If Anne had applied for a paid job, we would not have hired her and would have missed this incredibly committed and talented human being. Thank goodness she came to volunteer.
HR requirements put a great deal of restrictions on hiring people and those restrictions are seeping into volunteer services with stricter background checks and liability policies. But, there is one area that we can still control. We can thoroughly get to know our prospective volunteers and find meaningful places for them as long as we have the means and ability to cultivate and manage them.
We don’t have to walk the same path everyday. When faced with an alternate route, we can opt to venture through unfamiliar territory and increase our chances of finding those gems that are tucked along our journey. And that’s where courage and leadership begin.
-Meridian
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 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
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
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
volunteerplaintalk 