Volunteering

For my community action plan assignment for my health class, I spent about 15 hours volunteering at the Canadian Mental Health Association. I initially had the option to volunteer either within the offices of this organization, assisting with entering data into computer systems, or to work with people living with mental illness. I immediately knew that in order to learn about the organization as well as I wished to, and meet the goals I had set for myself, I would have to volunteer with patients themselves.

I set up an appointment with the volunteer supervisor, to ask some questions that I had after reading about the Canadian Mental Health Association on their website. She asked me to come in, as she had a volunteer application form for me to fill out, and she required a criminal record check to be done. Upon entering the building for the first time, I left extremely intimidated, and a little out of my element. Although I have done a lot of volunteering in the past, I left out of place walking in for the first time. I have working with people in nursing homes, many of whom suffered from Alzheimer’s disease, but I could not claim to have even met someone living with a mental illness before.
The supervisor was in a meeting when I showed up five minutes before we had agreed to meet. This gave me a bit of an opportunity to observe this facility at a distance. I tried to creep in unnoticed, but I was recognized as an outsider. The man sitting at the door, who I later found out was in vocational training asked me who I was and who I was looking for. He informed me of her whereabouts and suggested I take a seat and wait for her. I must admit, I was kind of afraid of what I saw. Quite truthfully, I texted a roommate of mine, telling him “I don’t know if I am going to be able to do this.” I realized I had absolutely no idea what this organization actually did, and how it could possibly benefit these people. Some of the members yelled over the buzz of others talking, others sat silently and just observed me. I felt very uncomfortable and out of place. A few conversed, and I could not understand what they were saying to each other. I couldn’t help but worry about whether or not I should be there, or if perhaps I should help out in the offices instead.
She soon came to greet me in the common area, and invited me into her office. She gave me a copy of the monthly schedule of activities, and explained the benefits these activities had on members. She explained that they refer to their clients as “members” and went on to say that to be a member of the CMHA, one needs to have a long term mental illness; long-term meaning over three years. Most members either have schizophrenia, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or Bipolar disorder. After telling me this, she asked me if I was sure I wanted to volunteer here. It struck me as odd that she asked me this question, and made me assume that others may have backed out of this opportunity after learning more about it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, but I was sure that I was very intrigued by this organization. I looked over the material she had presented me with, and it brought back a lot of memories of my Grandmother and the events the Nursing home had set up for her. I often volunteered there, and saw a lot of people with similar mannerisms as my Grandmother. Mannerisms in which one might be uncomfortable witnessing, but because it was my Grandmother I saw past them. I answered my supervisor with a “Yes” as I was determined to work past my own inner struggles. We then scheduled some times and dates she felt would be most beneficial to me, and the members to be there.

She explained to me that the best way I could spend my time there would to mostly visit with members, and listen to their stories. She let me know that many members have a great difficulty in social situations and may need practice just speaking to someone. That, I was sure, would not be a problem for me, as I spend a lot of time chatting. I felt like my time there could probably be used more wisely, and concluded that she just didn’t think I could handle the real volunteer work. The last thing she asked me to do was fill out a confidentiality form. This may have been the most difficult part of the entire volunteer experience for me. I asked her so many questions as to what I was allowed to talk about, and was very cautious about what I said to anyone. I didn’t hesitate to read and sign this form until I actually started talking to the members. Some of the most valuable lessons I learned at the CMHA I don’t believe I can actually talk about.

My first day at the CMHA, I entered very cautiously, remembering exactly how I felt when I met with my supervisor the week before. I put my possessions in her office, and she gave me a nametag. She suggested that today I just hang out and try to play cards, or pool with the members after she was done giving me a tour of the facility. I felt a little awkward as she introduced me to members and staff, but tried my best to smile through it. I tried to look for opportunities to help clean, or organize, but I soon realized I wasn’t really helping anyone doing those types of things. For most of the day, I spent my time simply observing members and the goings-on of the facility. She asked me to converse with members when I felt comfortable enough to do so, but I preferred to sit back and watch for a while.

Watching the music therapy session was an emotional experience for me. I was heavily involved in the music department in high school, and at one point I wished to pursue Music Therapy as a career. I therefore knew the benefits this session had on the members and I could see how much they all enjoyed it. The music therapist asked me to turn the pages of the music so members could follow along more easily, and it felt really good to actually be involved instead of sitting off in the sidelines. I found that this was a great opportunity to initiate conversation, as I found that many members shared the love of music with me.

After the session, I felt a little more confident in talking to members, and asked one of them to play a game of cards. It was very easy to talk to this person, as she had a lot to say. She shared pictures of her grandchildren with me and also stories about her family. During the course of this card game, other members joined our table, and joined in the conversation. I felt very comfortable in this setting, and was not intimidated in the slightest.

That night I came home and started chatting with one of my friends on the internet. I told him that I had completed my first day of volunteering and that I was mostly expected to talk to people there. He reminded me that I usually talk way too much, and people generally benefit mostly from talking themselves, not listening. I thought this was a very interesting piece of advice, and I took it with me the next day I volunteered. I think it helped me a lot, as I certainly had ample opportunity to listen throughout the rest of my time at the CMHA.

The second day of my volunteering I spend the majority of my time talking with members. I learned so much on my second and third days, and unfortunately, I feel that I would be violating my pledge of confidentiality if I were to say too much about it. I listened to my friend’s advice, and listened to so many touching stories that I may very well remember for the rest of my life.

During one of these conversations, one of the members referred to himself as "crazy". After hearing this individual say this, I started to catch myself saying things such as “That’s crazy!” and “That’s insane!” Although I didn’t mean to say things that some people may take offense to, it certainly opened my eyes and made me realize I may very well have been offending a lot of people throughout my time here. I often say these expressions in everyday conversation, and up until this moment, I really didn’t see anything wrong with it. I had definitely used these expressions a lot in my time I spend at the CMHA, and I felt horrible after noticing it. Since then, I have been making a conscious effort to stop myself from saying things that may be considered to be oppressive expressions in everyday conversation.

Throughout the three days I spent with the members of the CMHA, I heard so many touching stories that literally brought me to tears. I learned to listen, and I learned that listening is sometimes the best way to connect and build relationships with people. I learned that everyone has a story to tell, and if they aren’t given the opportunity to tell them, many people will feel just as uncomfortable as I did on my first visit to the facility. I learned a great deal about the Canadian Mental Health Association in my short time there, and I will continue to volunteer at this organization, and encourage others to do the same.