Why we don't volunteer
I've been volunteering for Mobile Meals of Trenton/Ewing off and on for a couple of years now. It's actually more off than on -- though I like the organization I don't treat that hour or two I spend driving meals around to shut-ins as a high priority in my life. If anything comes up, I beg off -- even at the last minute. I would probably even quit as a volunteer, except I feel a slight tug at my heart indicating that if I'm not giving something back to my community, I'm becoming more like Snidely Whiplash (pictured) every day. But isn't that pathetic? A slight tug at the heart? C'mon.
Well, now it hits close to home. I have the responsibility for finding and training at least seven volunteer conversation partners for TCNJ freshmen from other countries who need a little help picking up the language. And I anticipate problems with both getting and keeping these volunteers, even though their service is only one hour per week for a single semester. (This is part of a larger project, for which I am likely to start a separate blog.)
The problems come not only from my poor motivation as a volunteer -- which I must find ways to conquer in others -- but in the methods that nearly everyone else in the USA who hosts a conversation partners program motivates their own volunteers:
- resume bullets
- lifelong friends
- cultural exchange
- warm fuzzies
I contend that Mobile Meals of Trenton/Ewing does not. That's not to say it's their fault I have little more than this pathetic heart tug holding me to the organization. It's just that they could do more to increase volunteer value, without spending money or even much time. Consider the following:
- We aren't always given what we need. I don't know Trenton as well as maybe I should. Mobile Meals does provide driving directions, but no map. And many streets -- maybe two or three per meal route -- don't have signs. So I miss a direction at least once per route. When I'm lost, I call them -- and their phone number is always busy at lunch time, while meals are being delivered. Once, I lost half an hour on a route trying to find my way around when I couldn't call the office. Afterwards I told them that if they wanted to keep me as a driver, they had to either (a) give me only experienced meal runners, to help me find directions, or (b) give me a cell phone number I can call when I am lost. They made a note of this, but to date I have not been given either.
- We don't have any say in how it's done. That's not to say the way meals are delivered could be improved, but as you see above, some administrative functions could be. Mobile Meals, like most volunteer organizations, has its jobs compartmentalized and dumbed-down. It's possible that volunteer suggestions are valued, but my experience above has told me otherwise. And I don't normally give out many chances to people who don't listen to me.
- We are loved for the moment then forgotten. Sometimes we aren't loved at all. This quote comes from the Mobile Meals Web site:
We wish it were possible for you to hear the high praise the participants on your routes give us about the people who deliver their meals. We would like you to know that their appreciation and gratitude is deep and sincere.
Well, WHY isn't it possible for us to hear this "high praise?" Why isn't it up on the Web site? Why isn't it printed on a periodic flyer (say, of half-a-page) and given to all volunteers during a given week? Let me tell you what I see: I delivered to a house once, knocked, and was greeted by "who the f*ck is that?" When that happens, I don't feel loved. If I volunteered for, say, the Special Olympics, there's a fair chance I'd get a HUG from some participant and have my picture in the paper for it. I want to feel some love. And I am betting most volunteers want to feel it too.
Labels: character
posted by Ron @ 8:50 PM
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