volunteerplaintalk

Tag: volunteering

  • Looking Back

    I’m on vacation this week visiting family. In typical volunteer manager fashion, I figured I’d be searching the yellow pages for and interviewing volunteer managers in a new and different town. But, I’ve subjected my family to so much work intrusion throughout their lives as I’m sure you have too. It’s time to just simply enjoy them.
    So, I got up before everyone this morning, fired up the coffee and looked back, found this very early post and copied it. I hope you don’t mind. It made me feel good, because I know this visit with family will come to an end and I will be sad because life is not perfect, but it is a balance of work and home, success and failure, joy and pain, curiosity and fear. And in it all lies meaning; meaning for those we serve and meaning for us. Here is the post from four years ago:

    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

  • Dialogue? You Call This Dialogue?

    GPS-IIRM wikipediaOne 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

  • Walking the Unfamiliar Way

    187My 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 Turned Her Loose

    3d_buildings_and_floor_plans_8_165343I 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

  • Dieting, Models and Volunteering?

    happyI’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

  • Perfectly Un-Perfect

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • The Emotional Buck Stops Here

    buck stops here photo:wikipedia.org/wiki/Buck_passing

    Crista is a volunteer coordinator for a local branch of a major charity. She covers several counties which means a great deal of travel during the week and the need to tightly organize her day. Now we all know how hard tightly organizaing is for a volunteer manager. “I’m exhausted,” she said recently, “literally exhausted. I’m not talking about being the kind of tired that makes you fall asleep at night, I’m talking about dead to the world sleep followed by a difficult waking and the desire to crawl under the covers by noon. Am I depressed? I mean I don’t do that much physical stuff, I carry boxes of manuals or help arrange tables at a fair, but nothing that would wear me out. I have time in the car to sit down, but at the end of the day, I just want to go home and vegetate. What’s wrong with me?”
    I asked her what her day was like and she said, “you know, I arrive at work and the phone starts ringing. I’m checking emails and volunteers are coming into my office to ask for guidance. Sometimes their team leads aren’t there and sometimes they have a complaint about misdirections. I have to field all kinds of calls, personal visits, plan my day, check in with clients and set up recruiting and training. It’s pretty hectic I suppose.”

    No doubt, Crista is volunteer manager busy. But I sensed more to her weariness. “How do you handle interruptions?”
    She continued, “well, I really try to give everyone my full and undivided attention. I mean, there’s the client who is hurting or the volunteer that has a family emergency. I’m not able to get much done, at least not in my mind. It’s constant stopping and focusing on the person in front of me and their needs.”
    She hesitated. “They deserve my full attention at the time they need it, not later during some appointment when the moment is lost. It can be difficult.”

    Mmmm Hmmmm. Our conversation made me think of the times I was privileged to work with singers and actors on charity shows. It was amazing to see how they emotionally transformed themselves into their roles and to afterwards see, when the glow wore off, how exhausted they were. Getting into their character and experiencing the perceived emotions drained the life right out of them.

    Being busy is one thing, but there is something called “emotional labor,” conceptualized by UC Berkley professor, Arlie Russell Hochschild. Emotional labor is often associated with service workers, such as the waitress who listens to a customer complain about the the too rare steak which she had no control over. She must hide her own stressful feelings and literally do some acting in order to understand and please the customer.

    There is also something called compassion fatigue which is the burnout factor that results from so much emotional availability. Volunteer managers listen to clients and empathize. We listen to volunteers and genuinely care about them. We listen to administrators and search for ways to really make a difference. Then, we go home and look for solace, but, because we are so good at emotional connections, can we turn that off in our private lives? Probably not. There’s the call from Aunt Rheda who fell and broke her hip. The neighbor, Jack just lost his job and his wife, Karin has no idea how they are going to survive. The elderly woman in the aisle of the grocery store looks lost. Would we walk away? Not unless our hair was on fire.

    It’s no wonder volunteer managers are exhausted. Emotionally we are “on” from the moment we wake up until we drop into bed. We’re on for our volunteers, for society and for our families and friends. It’s what we’ve come to expect of ourselves. Working with volunteers has taught us how to be focused and empathetic. It’s how we connect volunteers to the mission and to the clients. It is a great skill set, but it does take a huge amount of energy.

    Do we experience compassion fatigue? Most likely. But do we also practice emotional labor? Are we acting? I’d say, most of the time, no, but there are instances in which circumstances out of our control go awry and we are the ones to smooth it over for our volunteers. That’s when we have to put aside the stress we feel from the giving of incomplete directions, or the event time change not being communicated. Although we might like to say, “yeah, it figures. That airhead Velma never told me that they changed the venue time! You know this is the third time she’s done something like this. Last month she asked for two volunteers to sit at a fair and she didn’t tell me that they had to bring their own chairs to sit on and that it would be outside! It was cold that day, the poor volunteers shivered and stood through the whole thing! You know, I’m just sick and tired of cleaning up after inconsiderate staff who waste your guys’ time! I don’t want you to quit, but heck, I wouldn’t blame you if you did, not that anyone here would realize why you quit, they’d probably blame me!” (did I just go on a wee bit too much there? Woo, I feel so much better!)

    Instead, unlike my inappropriate rant, we assure the volunteer that their time is valuable, that they are valuable while taking in any problematic comments and finding ways to make situations better. We become the obsessive person who checks, double checks and triple checks details to keep these things from happening. But in spite of our efforts, when things do happen, we repress our own frustrations and absorb the volunteers’ feedback. We pass on the information in a professional manner, because the emotional buck stops with us.

    So, like Crista, if you find yourself bone weary, exhausted, or death-gripping your covers in the morning, it could be signaling burn-out. Recognizing the emotional investment you make in your job, by your compassion, empathy and emotional labor is the first step to taking care of yourself. It is crucial that volunteer managers find ways to de-stress, wind down and practice self care. While we can’t control everything about our jobs, we can control our well being.
    Be well out there.
    -Meridian

  • If a Butterfly Flaps Its Wings in Brazil, Will Jeremy Volunteer?

    hands volunteering2So, I’m going to pretend for a moment that I deeply understand chaos theory, deterministic systems, and linear functions. I’m going to try to sound really, really smart here, so please don’t laugh too hard when I use fancy phrases like “and so in conclusion,” “what I’m trying to point out.” and “holy crap this is hard!”
    But volunteering I think needs to have its own theory. A few years ago, I developed the firecracker theory that says you will get in big, big trouble if you set off a string of lady fingers outside the door of your boss’ office. It’s related somehow to string theory, but that’s for another day.
    I’ve observed (which you might notice is a great physics term) that a lot of really smart people look at volunteering and the recruitment of volunteers in a very linear way. Their theory goes something like this:
    Volunteer Manager (VM) sitting at desk. A long line of prospective volunteers stand outside the door patiently waiting for their turn to do good.
    VM: Who’s next? May I help you?
    New Volunteer Jeremy (J): Hi, I’m answering your ad for volunteer help. Can you tell me more about it? I really want to do good.
    VM: Why yes, we need someone every Tuesday to help put up supplies.
    J: Oh my gosh, this is unbelievable, I have a Master’s Degree in putting up supplies! I’ve put up supplies for most of my life. I love nothing more than to put up supplies! When can I start to do some good?
    VM: Well, you first have to go through some orientation and training. There’s four sessions starting tomorrow. That might be a bit last-minute.
    J: Tomorrow, huh? Well I had some important surgery scheduled for tomorrow, but I think I’ll reschedule that. To do good by putting up supplies is far more important.
    VM: Wonderful. After that we need to do a background check.
    J: No problem! After we speak, I will go to the police station and have that done. I’ll pay for that myself. While I’m there, do you want me to pay for some other volunteers?
    VM: No, that’s not necessary, but thank you. Are you then available to work on Tuesdays?
    J: Wow, Tuesdays, huh? That’s the only day I have to take my elderly Mother out of the nursing home. She really loves our outings, but hey, what the heck, putting up supplies for you guys is so much more important. I’ll be here every Tuesday doing good! By the way, what kind of supplies are we talking about?
    VM: Well, our organization gets shipments of office supplies on Tuesdays. No one here is willing to do that work.
    J: Office supplies, is it, go figure, my thesis was on the body mechanics of putting up office supplies! This is amazing! I can’t wait!
    VM: You do know, Jeremy that you will have to work alone in a hallway closet. There’s not much light or air, but that’s where the supplies are kept. Is that all right?
    J: I can’t believe this! My minor in college was working alone in a closet, how perfect is this opportunity for me?
    VM: Great, we will see you tomorrow. Thanks so much for volunteering. Next!

    So, in this linear theory, volunteers pretty much show up, get oriented, complete all steps and faithfully volunteer. It’s a lovely parallel universe, one with giant blue people and shimmering unicorns who love to do good.

    Recently, I attended a volunteer orientation for another organization. Of the seven people who took the evening class, I was the only one to show up at the meeting the next week. What happened to the rest? What mean and evil butterfly in Brazil kept them from doing good?

    Well, to that question I say, Holy crap, this is hard! See, I told you there would be some fancy phrases here. I can’t even begin to list all the variables that prevent volunteers from becoming linear, but here are a few. I’m sure you could add countless more.
    I want to volunteer but:
    I just lost my job or I just got a job.
    I got sick. I’ll try to come back, but it depends.
    I have to move or I just moved.
    I have no transportation, my car broke down.
    I have to watch my grand kids now that my daughter went back to work.
    I just had a significant death in my family.
    I just got divorced.
    I don’t think this is for me, sorry, but I thought it would be different.
    I completed my task and I’m moving on.
    I bit off more than I can chew-yes, sorry, my intentions are good, but I just can’t seem to find the time.
    I’m not getting what I need. Sorry, I thought it was just about doing good, but maybe I need more.
    I have to tie up some loose ends at home, then I’ll be back.
    I’m really looking for a job and it looks like there are none here.
    I burned out on all this saying yes.
    I’m going to disappear now and you’ll never know why.

    What determines the likelihood that Jeremy will volunteer? Luck, hard work on our parts, a perfect universe? Is it random no matter what we do? And, should we blame ourselves when not every prospective volunteer turns out to be volunteer of the year? Does a physicist blame himself because there are so many variables or does he accept the fact while learning from it?

    So, if we start to accept the intricate theory of volunteering, then does that not elevate the role of the volunteer manager who must be an analytical leader?

    Volunteering truly is like the famous Edward Lorenz quote, “Does the flap of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas?”
    Whether or not someone volunteers may not be dependent upon a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil, but sometimes a random call from a relative thousands of miles away can alter our volunteers’ lives in an instant and therefore impact their ability to volunteer.

    Hmmmm. And so, in conclusion, because volunteer managers work with these variables every day and still inspire vibrant forces of people doing good, I think some real credit is in order. Go ahead, flap your wings, butterfly. We’ve got this.
    -Meridian

  • Are We Forgetting Someone in This Conversation?

    restricted areaLately I’ve been reading about the UK’s debate on whether out of work young people should do some volunteering in exchange for benefits. I’m not going to go into any opinion on whether or not this is a good or bad idea, but the conversation made me think of several experiences I’ve had and how the volunteer manager is seemingly left out of this equation.

    One of the first experiences I had with someone forced to volunteer was with a young woman named Tori. She had to complete 50 hours of community service for a misdemeanor. She came to me very early in my career, and I thought I could show Tori the beauty of volunteering. I thought I could show Tori that immersing herself in the woes of others would give her a new and helpful perspective. I thought I could change the world through Tori. I was wrong. Those 50 hours were some of the longest of my life. She did not want to be there and by the 49th hour, I have to admit, I was happy to see the back of her as she walked out the door.

    I also remember another volunteer, Julian. A med student at a local university, Julian popped in one afternoon looking to “do some meaningful volunteering.” Young, with an urban handsomeness, he said he needed hands on experience with beside manner. “You know,” he said, “the kind of skills they don’t teach you in school.” I listened to his impassioned plea and then decided to short track him into volunteering. I reasoned that we needed more caring physicians, right? He wanted to initially do some data entry and then move on to working with patients because he had a full schedule of classes. I saw no reason not to let him begin that way and gave him assignments. He always seemed to have an excuse for not completing an assignment, so I chalked it up to a hectic semester. I thought, based on his enthusiasm that he would just show up one day ready to become a great volunteer.

    Well, he did show up one day with a paper in hand. “I need this signed today,” he said, “and I was hoping you would help me out.”
    My curiosity peaked, I looked at the paper to find that Julian had court ordered community service. “You haven’t completed the required hours,” I said to him. “And this is due tomorrow.”

    “I know,” he returned, “but I will do the hours, I already did some, right? I promise to do the rest. And I really do want to volunteer with patients, it would be so good for me. It’s just so hectic right now.” He smiled sheepishly and for a moment I gained access to the manipulated world according to Julian. I knew right then and there that he was just using me, but, being new to volunteer management, I signed the papers. I never heard from him again, but from then on, I termed that experience the “Julian debacle”. Now I never sign for hours I cannot prove.

    I also think about the year that Disney created the “Give a Day, Get a Day” volunteer push in 2010. The promotion was to encourage one million volunteers to do a day of service and in return they would get vouchers for Disney tickets. Now, on surface, what a lovely idea, but for me, personally, what a challenge. I began receiving calls from folks who couldn’t get in to volunteer elsewhere and needed to do volunteering, any volunteering by an approaching date. The people who called me were desperate to get their tickets. The idea that they might have to do orientation or wait for a day when I could actually come up with something for them to do that was meaningful sent them into panic mode. Because I felt for them, and because I hoped that one would actually want to volunteer beyond the promotion, I took as many as I could, but honestly, their volunteering was about free tickets. (Lesson learned).

    So by force or reward, is mandated volunteering or perk volunteering still volunteering? And, to those who create these two types of “volunteering,” do you ever think about the challenges to those of us managing these volunteers?

    To be fair, I have had some amazing folks who have had to volunteer to keep their food stamps or to clear their name. These people were respectful, eager to learn and help and some even stayed. Just as it’s critical we get to know our volunteers in order to place them, it’s critical we don’t size them up due to circumstance before we even meet them. I’m not saying take everyone and anyone but there are great volunteers who come through unconventional means and not so great volunteers who on paper seem perfect. Trust your judgement.

    But what is frustrating is the lack of acknowledgement of the massive amount of work volunteer managers must do to initiate, instruct and incorporate new volunteers. I would hope that future conversations about requiring people to volunteer or creating promotional perks for volunteerism would include the challenges facing the volunteer managers of the organizations being impacted.

    We’ve all heard this phrase bandied about; “volunteering would be good for you.” I just hope that the folks uttering that phrase would stop for a moment and think about the volunteer manager who is tasked to make that statement ring true.
    -Meridian

  • Well, It Sounds So Wonderful

    curbsideclassicdotcom
    Photo Credit: CurbsideClassic.com
    Jarvis is a volunteer coordinator for a small non-profit that works with homeless families.
    “I’ve been here for five years, now. I pretty much know how our system works, what our volunteers are allowed to do, what they are not allowed to do and how their volunteering actually helps. When I talk to prospective volunteers, I love to sincerely tell them how meaningful their contributions really are to our clients. I feel that, I see that everyday, the ways our volunteers interact with our clients and how they truly help them. It’s so darn inspiring, I just can’t help but impart that to new volunteers.
    But just lately, our organization’s leadership asked me to recruit some new volunteers. We are adding a new way to attract donors and that includes serving coffee and scones at informational meetings. It’s all white glove and very elegant looking. These new volunteers are the ones to prepare and serve the coffee, tea and scones. They’re expected to wear black pants, white shirts and to host or hostess and serve the potential donors while the marketing department does their thing.
    At first, I happily recruited several volunteers, both new and existing for this role. I thought long and hard about what to say to show them the worth of this job and everything started out well, But after a bit, the volunteers started calling in sick and sometimes I would have to go down and fill in for their shift. I gotta tell you, it felt like meaningless, boring, demeaning work. I smiled and served tea and really just felt like I was being used, that the organization could have hired some professional folks to do this. It felt like they were cheapening out and I was the hack who let them cheapen out. I see why the volunteers are calling in sick and not showing up.”
    Jarvis sighed. “I’m really uncomfortable asking volunteers to sign up for this position, especially when we need volunteers to do the meaningful work and especially since that’s what volunteers sign up for anyway. I feel like if I talk this position up, just to fill it, I will be guilty of bait and switch, you know what I mean?”

    Hmmmmmmmm. Our job, when pared down to its base, is to recruit and train volunteers for established roles. We all know that this is incredibly nuanced work. We use words, images, stories and motivations to attract people to provide free, but worthwhile services. We show volunteers the meaning of their contributions and the benefits they will personally reap. It helps immensely if we believe not only in the mission, but in the roles we are recruiting volunteers for. But what happens to our spiel when we realize that a volunteer position is really just a cost saver? What if we secretly feel that a volunteer position is beneath our volunteers’ time? Do we just parrot the tired old “and it really makes a difference in our clients’ lives” and then go home feeling oily, like a huckster? And what if we voice our concerns to senior management and they not only dismiss those concerns, but send the message that, “if you don’t agree with this big picture, then you should probably leave.”

    So this begs the question: Who are we really? Are we used car salesmen or are we Mother Teresa or are we somewhere in between? How do we sell a role we don’t believe in and are we allowed to not believe in a role? Do we not know our volunteers and potential volunteers better than anyone in our organizations? How should we advocate for meaningful roles vs. roles designed to save a few bucks here and there?
    This is a tough one, because when we firmly advocate for our volunteers and their involvement, we tend to ruffle senior management feathers. We can be viewed as negative or unwilling instead of thoughtful and proactive. And sometimes, even though our approach is delivered well and backed up by evidence, our appeals can be swept aside with a cavalier “boy, that’s not a team player attitude, is it?”

    What can we do? Firstly, show them, show them and show them some more. We all have to become experts at crunching everything into data, sort of like a human paper shredder that spits out supporting evidence. Write down exactly why volunteers don’t like a position and keep it in a file. On the flip side, record every wonderful thing your volunteers are doing with positions that truly make a difference. Record comments from grateful clients. Jot down anecdotes from staff who witness volunteer interaction. Note the positive and negative to build a case for your vision of volunteering. Advocate strongly for your volunteers, but in a professional, whine free manner. Dazzle them with your supporting evidence.

    When senior management says, “c’mon, you have 100 or 300 or 8,000 volunteers, why can’t you find one to clean up after our staff party?”, you can come back with a “because no one wants to clean up after YOU people.” But even though it may be true, you will be viewed as unwilling, negative, and a poor team player. Instead come back with, “well, I called 50 volunteers and no one is available; as a matter of fact, 38 of them said that they were already busy helping our clients.” Now, you can’t just say this, you have to actually call 50 volunteers, but the extra work may just pay off eventually. Refusing to get a volunteer is vastly different from volunteers refusing to do a menial job.

    In my experience, for what it is worth, I’ve found that my judgements on volunteer positions should not stop me from doing my job. I learned to let the volunteers make that judgement, not me. I simply ask them, “would you be willing to come in on Friday and help with a tea?” Sometimes, I am wrong and volunteers are willing to do the menial tasks. So, I can’t make that judgement for them nor should I.
    So, remove your personal judgement and ask, really ask volunteers to do each job that comes along. Record their responses and follow-up with them to find out how they felt about a job. It will not only help you understand volunteer motivations and willingness, but you may also find yourself in a position one day to dazzle your organization with a volunteer services show and tell.
    Due diligence and substantial evidence can help you formulate the volunteer positions of the future for your volunteers.
    -Meridian