Why do we volunteer? Do we feel obligated to do it out of a sense of duty? Are we forced to because of a school requirement or to look good on our resumes? Or is it truly out of the kindness of our hearts? For my grandpa, volunteering is his life.
My grandfather immigrated to the United States in the late ‘50s. He lived in a cramped apartment in Brooklyn his wife and daughters stayed in Ecuador. He worked two jobs at factories because he didn’t speak English well enough to do anything else. For twenty years he worked in these factories until he had his first heart attack and his family finally made the big move to the States.
After three surgeries, he was obviously not the same resilient, healthy man he once was. My grandmother took over for him and worked another two jobs and my mom and my aunt pitched in, as well. But my grandpa was not one for sitting still.
A family friend recommended he go to the local senior center so he had something to do while everyone was working. My grandpa, only 65 at the time, vehemently refused thinking he wasn’t old enough to participate in such “senior” activities. After much insisting and hassling, he finally agreed to go, but just once. He arrived just as Art class had started. The teacher handed him a paintbrush and my grandpa accepted. Then, he never left.
He became hooked. Art had been a long-lost passion that he’d kept locked away for years while he worked to make a living. Now, here he was living to paint. That year he won 1st prize among the rest of the members in his art class. Everyone came to congratulate him and for once, it didn’t matter that his English wasn’t very good or that his health prevented him from doing lots of other things he enjoyed. He wanted to keep attending these classes and see his new friends at the center who were immigrants just like him. So, he became a member and a volunteer.
Over the years, my grandpa helped out in any way he could. Sometimes, he served breakfast and lunch to the members of the center. Other times, he would work the PA system. Because my school sat right behind the senior center, every morning I would hear my grandpa’s booming voice over the center’s loudspeaker yelling, “Bingo today!” or calling out ticket numbers for lunch seating. He would drop me off at school at 8am and then go straight to the center until 4pm when it closed. Tuesday was Art class, Wednesday was bingo, and Thursday was line dancing. If you ever needed to find him, he might be in the basement playing pool with Mario the Peruvian or he could be on the second floor playing cards with Jimmy and Willy, his best friends.
My grandpa turned 81 last spring and he now lives almost 2 hours away from the senior center. And yet, from Monday to Friday, in rain or shine, you can still find George there. Every year the center gives him an award for another year of service as a volunteer. They host a fancy dinner and shower him with little gifts and it’s his pride. His volunteering awards are displayed in the middle of his living room and the painting that won him 1st place is hanging on a wall right above them.
Because of him, volunteering has never been a chore for me. When I volunteered at the center too, I felt like I was helping out my grandpa’s friends because that’s really what they were. They were friends. They were family. People would come up to me and say, “Hey, you’re George’s grand-daughter!” and it was the best feeling in the world to have my grandpa be so special to them as he is to me. He felt he needed to give back to the place that had become like a second home to him after retiring. But he also realized how rewarding volunteering could be because it is a job. And even though you don’t get paid, your compensation is personalized. Volunteering saved my grandpa’s life because it gave him something to do when he felt powerless to do most everything.
His compensation was, and is, a sense of purpose, something to look forward to at the start and end of each day. My compensation is knowing that I’ve made a positive effect in someone’s life, no matter how small it could be. But I want to know. What is your compensation? Why do you volunteer?
