Being strategic about volunteering merits as much vigilance as determining any other aspect of professional or personal development.

—Anne R. Bavier

PROMOTING SUSTAINABILITY THROUGH COLLABORATION

Anne R. Bavier
Anne R. Bavier

Do all the good you can: Volunteering as a leadership development strategy

by Anne R. Bavier

At a recent induction ceremony held by Alpha Omicron Chapter, St. Xavier University, I welcomed our newest members to the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International. It was a proud moment for each of them, their families, our school of nursing and me.

I remember my induction. It’s astonishing to be told your hands are strong and competent enough to hold the very future of nursing. It’s exhilarating when you are recognized as the kind of nurse, leader and human who can be trusted to help advance the vision of the Honor Society of Nursing. You can’t wait to dive in, especially when you revisit our organization’s vision—“to create a global community of nurses who lead in using knowledge, scholarship, service and learning to improve the health of the world’s people.”

My remarks to this latest group of inductees focused, however, on volunteering. I warned them of the avalanche of invitations to volunteer they would receive from a wide array of worthwhile enterprises, including the honor society itself. Leaders of these organizations know that what makes great nurses is exactly what makes nurses great volunteers. Members of the Honor Society of Nursing are particularly plum prospects. Incidentally, involvement in the honor society is a wonderful way to start—and pursue—a volunteer career, for a myriad of reasons.

I reminded them that their time, good will and generosity are precious, finite commodities worth protecting, and that they owed that to themselves. More persuasive, perhaps, I said they owed it to the people they sought to serve. I urged them to make a detailed, personal and strategic assessment before saying yes to any organization.

Think of your future, I said, all spread out in front of you like little jigsaw puzzle pieces. A vital step, before putting pieces together, is to make sure they all come from the same puzzle—what resonates most deeply with you. That way, the professional, personal, social, recreational and volunteer pieces all reinforce one another, so that, as your custom-tailored future comes together, piece by interlocking piece, the picture that emerges has a far better chance to be meaningful, unified, maybe even beautiful. I urged them not to sign up with any organization before they first pondered what’s really important to them and weighed the assets and liabilities, both present and potential.

Being strategic about volunteering merits as much vigilance as determining any other aspect of professional or personal development. It calls for assessing how the puzzle pieces marked “volunteer” best interlock with “career” pieces—and the other way around. The head and heart can reach consensus after this effort.

Even before I shared it, I knew my message flew smack in the face of what most of us have been told all our lives—in church and elsewhere—about how to express human compassion, commitment to social justice, gratitude for talent and plenty, even love of God. Those who have much are morally obligated to share with those who have less. Guidance on giving is peppered throughout both biblical testaments, along with the promise that giving gifts to others is its own reward.

Like many of us, the inductees had an almost reflex response. They were far too polite to interrupt me, but their response was clearly in their eyes. “Wait a minute. Isn’t it supposed to be a one-way street, from moral donor to grateful recipient? Doesn’t it corrupt the purity of the gift to deliberately map a way our benevolent efforts can serve ourselves? Doesn’t it diminish my gift if I volunteer for something I really love to do or yearn to learn? We’re told that God loves a cheerful giver, but how does he feel about a giver who’s both cheerful and strategic?”

Then I delivered even more outrageous news: The one-way street is a dead end. Ralph Waldo Emerson knew it. “It is one of the most beautiful compensations of this life,” he observed, “that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.” No matter how selfless their motives, volunteers are doomed to benefit from their generous efforts. It’s one of those eternal verities that we can’t escape, no matter how hard we try. Volunteer work reinforces our personal values. We see ourselves as a useful part of a noble whole. We meet people with similar passions. We learn, laugh and connect. We dream up ways to swerve around obstacles. We are proud, frustrated, energized and exhausted. We grow. We cultivate leadership skills that last a lifetime.

Volunteering gives us hands-on, real-world experience in managing committees, handling human resources, communicating in public and private settings, developing and abiding by budgets and/or many other experiences and acumen that transfer effortlessly into our nursing careers, making us even more capable, confident and trustworthy leaders.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not “anything goes” when it comes to making decisions about volunteering. The privilege of considering personal priorities comes with unequivocal responsibility to do no harm. A case in point: A seasoned RN was the only nurse in her organization’s cadre of volunteers. Her colleagues respected and relied on her. When a gifted young honor society member asked to serve by her side, the more experienced nurse flatly stonewalled the application, refusing to sacrifice her self-gratifying role as the Sole Voice of Nursing. That’s not moral.

Nor is it moral to sign up for a variety of volunteer slots for which you have no particular passion, simply to showcase your flexibility and beef up your résumé. In my opinion, that approach to volunteering is selfish, shallow and wrong.

But it is moral, intelligent and ultimately generous to do enough homework to assure that potential volunteer activities interlock neatly with the rest of your puzzle pieces. As I see it, thoughtful analysis of opportunities to volunteer your services involves four phases.

Pinpointing goals for service
These are your volunteering goals, your jigsaw puzzle pieces. It’s your personal puzzle. There is no right or wrong result, as long as your analysis is honest and thorough. Your goals can be short-term or long-term and emerge from self-assessment inquiries such as:

  • Do I want to serve between school terms, for a summer, for a year, for five years, or forever?

  • Do I want to provide essential service to a single project, or do I prefer to serve wherever and/or whenever I’m asked?

  • Do I want to try out an environment in which I may someday find employment?

  • Do my goals and time frames match? For example, if I want to develop budgeting acumen, am I willing to invest, as a volunteer, the several years required to reach that goal?

These aren’t the only possible or pertinent self-assessments. You can custom-fashion your own list, centered on your specific puzzle pieces, or use the excellent Volunteer Personal Needs Assessment provided at the honor society’s Web site to assist members considering volunteer service: www.nursingsociety.org/VConnect/connected_1.doc. It’s well worth a visit.

Answering the questions I’ve suggested and the ones provided at the honor society Web site helps eliminate pieces that belong in other people’s puzzles. Add to that the insights gained about yourself when interviewing for volunteering opportunities, and you further clarify your interests, skills, goals and timetables. By eliminating ambiguity, you’re far more likely to find niches for serving that gratify everyone.

I didn’t have a clue about this process when I was a new graduate. I was eager to grow, connect and do good, so I applied to an agency that placed volunteers in a wide variety of service organizations. I was excited about finding a place to put my good will to work while meeting new friends, but the placement adviser had already determined my future. To her, I was “nurse,” so she penciled me into health-related assignments.

My spirit sank. I had just survived the intensity of nursing school and was on the threshold of my stressful first nursing job. I needed a counterbalance to that stress by working with people whose interests were outside of health care. The adviser acquiesced and lined me up with a group that performed delightful and creative puppet shows for children. It was a great experience for all of us.

Choosing where not to volunteer
Admiration for an organization’s mission does not include a moral command that you personally volunteer your services, even if recruiters confide that they urgently need volunteers exactly like you. It’s probably true. Volunteers like you are a valuable commodity for thousands of organizations that do good, but unless an organization fits your jigsaw puzzle, you can leave that important work to others without contradicting the reality of your generosity. Even though you agree that society at large has an obligation to serve this important effort, it is faulty—maybe even hubristic—logic to deduce that you personally are charged with bearing society’s moral burden.

When the U.S. surgeon general’s report on secondhand smoke was released in 2006, I wrote several published statements to support nationwide efforts to prohibit smoking in public. My public position netted me a cascade of invitations to lobby for legislation to ban smoking. Then, as now, I was steadfast in my commitment to the moral imperative of a smoke-free society. On the other hand, legislation and lobbying fit neither my puzzle or my interests—nor my professional schedule. Declining those invitations did not impugn my commitment to their noble purpose. I did what I could to help. I did not do what I determined is inconsistent with the puzzle I’m putting together.

Choosing where to volunteer
Let’s assume you have found an organization that resonates with what’s important to you. Its mission might relate to nursing, but it’s okay if it doesn’t. Opportunities are endless: Health care, education, religion, environment, social/professional service and many, many more. Take time to consider each one. Even when you feel an exhilarating attraction to an agency that feels like you, there’s still work to do.

Next, look at the organization’s integrity and recent history. The organization for which you volunteer need not be “perfect,” however. Let’s say you’ve found an organization whose mission touches you. Let’s say it’s a long distance from where you live or work. You can ask yourself questions such as: “Can I get there and back without huge hardship to other responsibilities or to myself? If that’s even possible, is it worth it to me?” The right answer comes only from you, and although the questions I’ve just posed suggest a negative response, that won’t always be true.

When I lived in Washington, D.C., I served on the board of a wonderful organization whose mission and people I loved. I loved what I learned, too. On the other hand, I detested the seemingly endless commutes, through snarls of Beltway traffic. When I did a detailed assessment, I learned that what I loved greatly outweighed what I loathed. It was worth it to me. I reminded myself that navigating nasty traffic was part of my gift to an organization I loved. The driving never bothered me as much again.

Volunteering is about people: clients, leaders, staffers and other volunteers. You can love the organization’s purpose and be energized by its compelling leaders. Still, it’s important to spend time with potential co-workers before making an ironclad commitment. Chat with volunteers about how they got involved, how long they’ve served, what jobs they’ve filled, what they’ve learned, what keeps them coming back, even what they like most—or least—about their service. They’re not likely to think you’re meddlesome. People love to talk about themselves, and they may even admire your initiative.

It’s important to chat with staffers, too, if you can. A friend of mine was eager to serve the homeless. She admired the mission and leaders of a local shelter. She liked other volunteers, too. Then she discovered that the service staff was entrenched, bitter and deeply resentful of volunteers. It would be all but impossible to make a contribution that would gratify the clients, the organization or her. Another shelter welcomed her willingness to serve, and she found a superb opportunity to help the homeless.

Building in plans for change
Resignations from volunteer jobs can stir up more tension and anguish from other volunteers and agencies alike than departures from paid, full-time positions. People aren’t sanguine about change and ambiguity, much less perceived rejection. When your volunteer service has been especially valuable, your departure may be wrenching. That’s why, at the outset, it’s a kindness to everyone to declare clearly your personal purposes, anticipated length of service—if you know it—and preferences.

You might ask to help a parish nurse, with an eye toward creating a similar program in your own congregation. You may want to do something useful during your summer break from school. Your service limits are legitimate. Things stay sane and serene if the organization understands that, once you’ve achieved your objectives, you’ll move on.

Everything changes—people, priorities and organizations—and that’s not always bad. In fact, boards of directors now often limit terms of voluntary service, rotating directors out of office to make room for new leaders with fresh eyes and skill sets. Even if you’re reasonably certain about the appeal of a long-term commitment, it’s still wise to build in, at the outset, a trial phase and to schedule a mutual re-evaluation a year or two hence.

During that trial period, you’ll learn a lot about your organization’s activities and dimensions and maybe identify some puzzle pieces that precisely fit your interests, talents and future. Organizations know that retaining good volunteers requires nurturing the relationship. As a result, they usually are amenable to changes requested by individual volunteers, especially if the volunteer informed them of that possibility ahead of time. Ask to serve in different ways and seek guidance when taking on and performing new duties. Speak up, officially and unofficially. It’s not selfish or unilateral. I know, from experience.

I was serving as a board’s parliamentarian, for which I was well-prepared. In a social conversation, when a friend inquired what I’d like to do next, I said I wanted to learn to be a board secretary. My friend remembered our discussion and, a couple of months later when the person serving as secretary departed for graduate school, I was appointed to her post.

Your services cross-pollinate, whether volunteered or paid, professional or avocational, especially when care is taken to assure that your puzzle pieces fit. For example, I know several nursing students who were enthralled by the summer they spent serving migrant workers. One put it this way: “We discovered we were put on earth to serve migrant populations. Without that summer, we would have missed our chance entirely!” Their career plans shifted instantly as they sought—and landed—public-health positions that focused on providing special services to migrant workers.

Volunteer jobs can help nurses retain balance and freshness in their career positions, while enabling them to enhance and showcase their skills. No less important, they make professional connections that can open future doors. I can think of scores of nurses whose excellence as clinicians and leaders became apparent during volunteer efforts and led to appealing job offers. I can think of scores more whose volunteer service to local nursing organizations advanced them to important and intriguing assignments at regional and national levels, and beyond.

One example: A friend was one of two similarly qualified finalists for a nursing-school faculty position. My friend had a rich background as a volunteer in nursing organizations. She had chaired her specialty’s nominating committee and helped to create its national certification exam. Colleagues knew her and admired her. Only volunteer service differentiated her from the competition, but that was enough. She landed the post.

A couple of millennia ago, Hillel the Elder stated the essence of my recent message to the honor society inductees this way: “If I am not for myself, who is for me? If I am only for myself, what am I? If not now, when?”

Summing it up, we are moral, responsible and, ultimately, humble when we turn the Golden Rule inside out, assessing and attending to our own conditions and needs almost as vigilantly as we assess and attend to those of our patients and others. We may balk at the thought that, to be spent well, our time, goodness and generosity need also be spent respectfully, even strategically, but it’s true. And it’s precisely the way those positive attributes will most likely remain renewable resources.

When Volunteer Street is one way, fatigue and cynicism are grim and real risks, even for the most empathetic and talented among us. It’s evidence that we’ve skipped over some of our own puzzle pieces, claimed pieces that belong in the puzzles of others and tried to force them to fit with ours. When that happens, it’s deeply wasteful and sad, for that nurse and, potentially, for others touched by that nurse’s life.

As smart, energetic and devoted as our newly minted honor society members are, even they can’t predict precisely how their careers will unfold, much less the details of how they will lead and serve, whether paid or as volunteers. They can be confident, however, that the interests they pursue, the skills they master and the experience they accumulate as volunteers will inform and enrich them, professionally and personally, as they assemble their puzzles, piece by interlocking piece.

It’s a debt we owe ourselves, to grow into the kind of people poised to fulfill John Wesley’s moral charge: “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.” He said it to Methodists, but it’s a message that resonates in the heart of every great nurse I know. RNL

—Anne R. Bavier, RN, PhD, FAAN, currently dean and professor of Saint Xavier University School of Nursing in Chicago, Illinois, USA, was recently named dean and professor of nursing at the University of Connecticut in Storrs, Connecticut, USA.
 

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