Ah, volunteers. The lifeblood of the third sector. The unsung heroes. The salt of the Earth. And sometimes, the absolute worst people you could possibly ever come across.
Let’s be honest. Every well-meaning community group, charity or local initiative starts with big dreams: “Let’s do some good!” “Let’s make a difference!” “Let’s serve the people!” But give it a year, and you could be serving someone’s ego instead. Because here’s the dirty little secret no one puts in the welcome pack: volunteer organisations are catnip for the emotionally chaotic, the power-hungry, and the dangerously underemployed.
Brenda’s had a rough time, bless her. A couple of decades of being overlooked at work, unappreciated at home, and let down by every man she’s ever trusted. So what does Brenda do? Instead of joining weight watchers, she volunteers. Out of altruism, you might think. Oh no. Brenda’s here to heal by controlling the rota with the iron fist of a Cold War dictator. Try suggesting they change the tea brand or ask the local youth club for help How dare you tread on her territory?! That’s her job. Forever. And you? You’re a threat to her emotional recovery arc. You become Brenda’s enemy when you politely tell her to send her own emails out; you’re here to do good work, not to serve anyone’s personal kingdom.
Steve used to run a “consultancy”, which mainly consisted of him cold calling people. He’s never quite understood why it failed: probably “the market”, or “the economy”, or “jealous people”. But now? He’s ready for a comeback, courtesy of your unsuspecting charity. Within weeks, he’s insisting on a boardroom restructure, an org chart, and renaming your after-school club “VisionHub360”. He wants KPIs, ROI, and a CRM, which he can’t actually explain, but insists you need “if you’re serious about growth”. Nobody knows what you do anymore, but Steve’s having meetings, and isn’t that what matters? By the way, Steve likes in person meetings because it validates his authority, so stuff the suggestion of GMeet; he openly says he doesn’t care about our carbon footprint, so insists everyone drives to the very important meeting location every month to fight for car park spaces…I suppose when you’re not planning to be around for the consequences, it’s easier to be cavalier about the planet.
Jean’s been with the organisation since 1987 and she’ll remind you of that every five minutes.
New ideas? Dangerous.
New people? Suspicious.
New website? Why fix what isn’t broken (despite the fact that it hasn’t loaded properly since 2009)?
She’s not technically in charge, but she keeps the keys, the login passwords, and the tea bags under lock and key. Literally. You’ll never change the world under Jean’s watch and you’ll be too exhausted to try by the time you realise she’s the one actually running the show. She will purposely serve you a heavily sugared white coffee when she knows you like it black, her eyes and upwardly tilted chin challenging you to say she got it wrong.
Colin doesn’t want to volunteer. He wants to expand. A local food bank was never going to be enough for Colin; he’s already rebranded it “Community Provisions Centre” and has his eye on national reach. He’s got a five-year plan, a logo with a globe on it, and a burning desire to appear in The Guardian. Colin wants partnerships, visibility, and ideally, your job. When asked if he’s here to help, he’ll say, “No, I’m here to transform.”
Spoiler alert: he will mess with your head, and not in a good way.
Here it is, plain and simple for anyone running a voluntary organisation: Just because someone offers to help doesn’t mean you should let them. We’re so desperate for support, time, hands, skills, anything that helps, that we sometimes forget to look at who we’re actually bringing in to add to the committee.
So we end up with gatekeepers instead of greeters, control freaks instead of collaborators, and personal agendas where community ones should be. And the worst part is that all the above will make your true vounteers run for the hills-no one needs this cr@p in their life unless it’s really, really well paid for.
Being kind-hearted doesn’t mean being a mug. It’s okay to ask questions. It’s okay to say no. It’s okay to vet your volunteers. Your organisation isn’t a therapy space, a hobby club, or a soft landing for people who can’t be trusted with a stapler.
Photo by Hermes Rivera
