Stories/Lived Experience
Author: Dr. Emma Smith, Postdoctoral Researcher, AT2030, ALL Institute, Department of Psychology, Maynooth University
A few weeks ago, I was asked by a fellow volunteer, “Why do you do this?” My answer wasn’t eloquent and was far from complete. I talked about my passion for the cause (that seems to be a given). I spoke about having a skillset I felt I could contribute to help build community. I talked about getting more from the organizations I work with than I ever put in. However, as the weeks have passed, I’ve realized it’s deeper than that – not everyone with passion and a skillset contributes as a volunteer. They contribute to their communities in other ways – they go above and beyond in their work lives, they raise incredible kids who inspire a generation, and they are committed friends and family members.
What is it that makes a volunteer?
My first memory of someone volunteering was when I was five years old, and my mother volunteered to be co-convener of the Christmas Fair at my school – a huge job. The annual event was an opportunity for our school community to come together outside of the formal setting, enjoy each others’ company, and raise funds. This would turn into a multiple year commitment, and therefore a big part of my childhood. My mother never considered her contributions to be exceptional – she simply “did it for fun.” She has been a volunteer for many other organizations since then. She has given her time and expertise to those causes which she believes in and has been an incredible role model. Not all the experiences have been as “fun” as the Christmas Fair, and some have taught lessons in perseverance. Her contributions shaped our community – my community. Her early influence on my experience shaped my future expectations of myself.
Sometime in my childhood, I learned that my maternal grandmother was an inveterate volunteer. After raising eleven children she taught in Sri Lanka as a volunteer – something which seems common now but was uncommon at the time. She also devoted herself to teaching English to immigrants in her community, one of whom I knew throughout my childhood due to his deep gratitude for her commitment. She used her time and expertise to shape her own community, to create the community she wanted to live in – one which accepted and welcomed newcomers and helped them thrive.
My step-father came into my life when I was 13. He was a longstanding volunteer, engaged in building community. He offered the time and skill he had to an organization he remains deeply committed to. His commitments have shifted over time, and he has taken on new and varied volunteer roles. He takes his volunteer roles as seriously as his paid work and reminds me it is possible to do both.
Throughout the 13 years of my primary and secondary schooling, I attended a school with significant focus on service to our community, where there was an expectation we would contribute in meaningful ways. Perhaps most importantly, our second to last year included a weekly volunteer commitment during school time. Volunteerism was a part of our education as a person, placed on equal level with our classroom learning. As my first true volunteer commitment, the experience was foundational for me – my time and talents were valuable, and I could give them freely.
In the years that followed, I would go on to volunteer in many capacities – running fundraisers, in student government, and with community organizations. With the support of my family, I was able to spend six months volunteering in West Africa. These experiences, each in their own way, taught me about my own skillset, and what I could contribute. They taught me time management, and how to balance my volunteerism with my other commitments.
Since then, many things have changed. I have moved from one side of the country to another (with a brief two year stop in the middle), started a career, returned to school to do a PhD, and moved across the Atlantic to live in Ireland. My commitment to volunteerism has remained a critical part of my identity. So much so that when I moved to a place where I lost a sense of community, and stopped volunteering, I felt I had lost a sense of self.
I was fortunate, following this, to meet a colleague and friend who was a long-standing volunteer. While I jokingly say he tricked me into a variety of commitments, I really believe that he opened doors to organizations where I could contribute and make a real difference. I re-engaged, and my sense of who I was trickled back. I began volunteering in leadership and non-leadership positions, and my community grew around me. This mentor inspired me to find myself again and paved the way to do that.
In 2017, I was honoured to join 41 other Canadians at a ceremony in Ottawa to receive the Sovereign’s Medal for Volunteers from Her Excellency Julie Payette, the Governor General of Canada. We were not the only Canadians receiving this honour this year – many others were awarded in communities all over the country, demonstrating their deep commitment to improving the lives of their fellow citizens. My reflections on this award have led me to understand that a volunteer is made. As a volunteer, I am more than the sum of my experiences. I volunteer because it is a critical part of my identity. I am a volunteer.