Volunteer travel log: New Hampshire

Today, I spent a couple of hours on one of my current volunteer gigs, working through a local aging services program as sort of a “buddy” to a senior. I delight in this relationship, and being there got me thinking: It would be fun to talk a bit about the assortment of volunteer jobs I’ve had during my retirement. It’s a great example of sampling “the mix.” So here goes ...

For several years after I retired, we moved around the country. This was a grand adventure, but it was tough to find my footing in new places (5 of them over the course of 6 years). I wanted to get involved in volunteer work, but I didn’t know the communities well enough to know where to start. So I adopted a pattern of waiting for something to show up—a process I use to this day. I listen to conversations, pay attention to chatter on the radio, read the local paper to see what was going on, talk with folks I meet, generally stay open. My job in this is not to search frantically but to pay attention, to be alert. Before long, something always bubbles up, something that says “This! This would be cool!” One of the best things about retirement is the availability of time. I have the time to wait, watch, listen … and when a fit comes along, I have time that I can commit to it. What a gift!

So, let me tell you about some of the volunteer gigs I’ve found this way and a bit about what I learned from them. First, a teaser. Among my volunteer gigs have been the following:

• Sorting stuff and grinding glass in a rural recycling plant
• Assisting the chef and generally helping in a community kitchen
• Traveling from New Hampshire to Oregon to work against a ballot issue
• Doing grassroots organizing with the American Friends Service Committee

• Volunteering as a news intern for Rachel Maddow (Really!), who was at that time the morning DJ in the basement studio of a local radio station 
• Blogging for a major western Mass. newspaper (blogging some mighty interesting events!)
• Delivering Meals on Wheels
• Acting as the (supposedly) responsible adult in an LGBTQ youth drop-in center
• Working on a presidential campaign  (once finding myself alone to run the campaign office because of football!)
• Teaching literacy in a program for folks in legal trouble trying to re-enter society
• Supervising a phone bank for an LGBTQ political action group
• Staffing health education booths for the Department of Public Health—street fairs in San Francisco!
• Becoming friends with a senior through a respite and companion volunteer program
• Helping a 13-year-old with special needs to manage the complexity of middle school
• Serving on a coalition that works to make schools safe and welcoming for LGBTQ folks and their families.

All of these gigs came from listening, watching, waiting. Ah, the luxury of time! All of them have tales attached—funny, poignant, thought-provoking, joyful, a mix. So, now that I have your attention with the Rachel Maddow story, let me start at the beginning of our wandering years. Small town New Hampshire …

I heard through a friend about the local community kitchen, where they needed someone to help make dinners. Back-stage kitchen work. This may seem odd after my rant about invisibility, but this sounded perfect! I really enjoyed the chef who ran the place, which made it extra fun. Here, I learned how to cut vegetables correctly with a butcher knife, and I learned for the first time what “shepherd’s pie” is. I also found out about eggplant. I came to realize how many grocery stores overstock and how many farms overplant eggplant. This, I am convinced, is the only vegetable that can rival zucchini as the bunny rabbit of plants. However, as far as I know, zucchini just shows up everywhere in the fall. Eggplant is around all year. I'm still not much of a fan of eggplant.

Then, one day, I was dropping off stuff at the local rural recycling center and the guy running it said, “why don’t you volunteer some time, join your neighbors?” I heard this whisper: "Cool! This will be fun!” I started the next week. It seemed perfect: with the community kitchen, this made both ends of the food chain. Here, I learned three valuable lessons: 

1. Never leave a dollop of milk in the bottom of your milk jug and then deliver it to the recycling center days later. The stench is deadly to volunteers. 
2. The machine that grinds class is a total kick to operate! This may be partly because you have to earn your stripes as a basic recycler before being invited to do it, so it has a gold star on the forehead quality to it. Lesson 2b: Always wear ear protectors, goggles, and heavy-duty gloves whenever the rules say you should. I had some close calls with fingers and eyes; the ear protection saved my sanity. 
3. This lesson applies if you live near the border with another state and your state doesn’t pay a deposit on cans. Here’s how you make money to run the recycling program: pack up a load of those return-deposit cans, truck them across the river, and cash them in. Do not tell anyone I told you this. 

The other great thing about this job, not a lesson really, was that I got to wear those cool brown, flannel-lined, full-coverage overalls like construction workers (and serious recyclers!) wear. After all, it’s cold in NH in the winter, so I felt compelled to get myself some. I was grinding glass and all. I felt like I had arrived. 

My last volunteer job in New Hampshire was in Oregon. I flew from NH to Oregon to work against an anit-LGBTQ initiative there. I got to spend 2 weeks with some amazing organizers, talking with voters on the street and on the phone. I learned a huge lesson here. I had trouble approaching people and asking them to sign up to volunteer for phone banking—hours of cold calls about a controversial issue. Then, the leader of our organizing group pointed out something really profound. You came all  the way from New Hampshire to do this work, he said. Why? Because it’s important, I answered. I wanted to have a chance to help make a difference. Exactly, he smiled. You're giving other folks that same opportunity—to make a difference. He had me. We all worked hard for those 2 weeks, and by golly, we won!

Lots of fun, lots of good folks, lots of lessons learned. Some were really important life lessons (give other people a chance to do good in the world). Some were metaphors for important life lessons (don't leave sour milk for the other person to clean up; when life gets dangerous, wear protective gear). Some were just for laughs (grinding glass in overalls is a kick!).

New Hampshire was just the start. Next stop, Massachusetts—which  by the way, is where I worked with Rachel.

Did I mention Rachel Maddow?