If not you, then who?
Growing up with parents who were dedicated volunteers - at my school, at our church, at the studio where I studied ballet, fundraising for the Heart and Stroke/Canadian Cancer foundations, Dad cooking at the Fred Victor Mission, etc., etc., etc. They were always pleased to be of assistance wherever and whenever needed, and through their service to others, they built very strong connections within our community. They always spoke of feeling engaged, fulfilled, energised and inspired by those experiences. I, of course, was always dragged along. Dragged! I mean, what ten year-old wants to bang on doors begging for money for Heart and Stroke when they could be riding their bike on the roller coaster** with the boys? Whenever I had the temerity to complain, to ask why I had to help, Dad would always say the same thing:
If not you, then who?
Throughout my adult life I have volunteered (without being dragged) in various capacities for various organisations, and retirement freed me up to take on even more unpaid roles. Whilst we were living in Peterborough and Cobourg, the demands for my service and time were overwhelming, persistent, compelling and, most of all, infinite. When I began volunteering at the park, the word “enough” seemed to have been eradicated from their lexicon. Prove yourself - just once! - as being capable and reliable, and your name seems to come up every time a new project arises. Too often to cope. But how does one say no, particularly when the cause is worthy?
Surprisingly, talk of volunteering has cascaded through my e-mails, telephone conversations and media feeds this week, a bit as if the universe is trying to send me a message. All week, and like it was a coordinated plan, a number of my Cobourg/Brighton/Carrying Place/Trenton friends and park buddies have been asking me where, with which organisations, which parks, etc., I have been volunteering. The truth is, I’ve been here eight months now and I have not yet become a volunteer. No one wants me. I’ve applied to two parks, the conservation authority and ASK, but not one of them has responded. I’m clearly superfluous to needs here in Essex County.
Volunteering is deeply individualistic. Generosity, springing from a feeling of gratitude, often becomes personified in the form of volunteers, who complete small and large acts of kindness and helpfulness. Folks volunteer their time for myriad reasons - as a means of networking (in search of future employment opportunities), to fill or pass time, to make new friends, to prove loyalty/dedication to a favourite cause, simply to help, because the cause is deeply personal, to assuage the anxiety and guilt inherent in abundance and - more often than not, because no one else did/would.
One of my favourite sites to visit is Pickle Me This, link: https://picklemethis.com/
On Monday, Kerry wrote passionately about a volunteer role she is currently fulfilling. I’ve read her post, link: “Harper Valley PTA” several times now and each time through, something new touches a nerve:
“And this is personal. I’ve spent the last few weeks overwhelmed by several things, not the least of which is a fundraiser for my child’s school that has ended up on my plate mostly because I was the only person who reluctantly failed to refuse it.”*
At its core, volunteerism responds to unmet needs within a community or organisation. It is the countless, unpaid, unrecognised activities on which most not-for-profit organisations depend. It is a task force that sometimes collects needed goods (think Christmas toy drives or food bank collections and distribution). Volunteerism encompasses care of the ill, the infirm, seniors and very young kiddos. It is sometimes a human resource function (think hospital volunteers). But the truth is that very often volunteerism is all about offering time, creativity and logistics in a fundraising effort. Asking is no easy task, believe you me. Every group has its hand out. Every foundation finds its coffers depleted. Every foundation has a lengthy list of necessary new acquisitions, and each one of those requires money. And for the volunteers who take on the enormity of raising those funds, it is an intrinsic but frequently overwhelming endeavour. One that always, ALWAYS requires much more time than originally predicted, often at the most inconvenient of hours. So why do they do it?
If not you, then who?
Why volunteer? For many folks, it is as simple as staving off loneliness and boredom. Regardless of how each individual came to the volunteer community, the biggest “why” almost always ends up being the (sometimes unexpected) rewards, and it is those guerdons that keep folk coming back time and again. In my experience, the benefits of volunteering are as infinite as were the demands on my time. Through my volunteer activities, I’ve grown, changed and become more enlightened than I’d ever have expected. I’ve made new, life-long friends, learned new skills, helped organisations accomplish many goals, and had a lot of fun along the way.
Volunteering is a noble calling. By signing up, you’re enlisting in a veritable army of kindred spirits – a phalanx of hard-working managers, tradespeople, accountants, nurses, counsellors, artists, salespeople, cooks, retirees, truck drivers, musicians, bartenders, teachers, janitors, electricians – all united by a common desire to serve others and to do good works. Many of those you encounter will become your mentors, guiding you through the labyrinth of unspoken, unwritten rules, taboos and expectations. Eventually, you will become a mentor and guide to the next generation of volunteers.
Volunteerism is a venerated tradition that, in joining, you implicitly agree to maintain and perpetuate, even if your participation involves the updating, refreshing and revamping of the organisation and its practices. Noble? For sure. But even more, volunteering is a fundamental necessity and all volunteers are absolutely indispensable. I’ll end with some sage advice from Kerry:
“This kind of labour is essential, so use it smartly, use it well. Value people’s time. Keep meetings within limits. Respect people’s boundaries. Appreciate people’s talents and skills. Don’t take any of this for granted. And if everyone does a little, that means no one has to do it all.”*
’Til next time, y’all…
*Kerry Clare, author, blogger, educator, activist, mum, daughter, wife, loyal friend to many and a veritable kick-ass feminist.
**The “Roller Coaster” was a switchback trail atop the berm that separated the train tracks from the houses on Murray Glen Drive. It was a very rough trail that “donated” to my collection of stitches on at least three occasions that I can remember. Also, for the record, I was forbidden to ride there, so now you know a little more about how much of a holy terror I was to my dear mum and dad.