I signed up to volunteer for a kitchen shift on the first Monday night after classes began, January 12. Unlike my approach to delivering meals for PAH, however, I had many expectations when it came to volunteering in the Project Angel Heart kitchen; most of them centered on my anxiety that I would chop a finger off slicing onions or something, and thoroughly ruin the food with my blood. Beyond that, however, I was too nervous to think about what would happen once I was there.
Once in PAH, though, my fears eased greatly. I introduced myself to Summer, who showed me the aprons, gave me a kerchief for my hair, and handed me an apple peeler, an apple peeler thankfully shielded in plastic.
So, I peeled apples, and I talked to people. While Summer was very kind to me, and beyond funny, she was also very busy, so I spent most of my time laughing at the jokes of another worker, Joy. Joy talked about everything, and while I was definitely the new-comer, I still found it interesting how close-knit the workers seemed to be. The conversation itself also intrigued me. Though the workers and volunteers I was surrounded by were cooking meals for those critically in need of the food, the conversation did not center around all the good they were doing, or in the retelling of inspirational stories, but rather in the everyday events of all their lives. Joy talked about her son, and the men she dated, and her Grandpa, and her family who still called her by her childish nickname, “Uncle Fred”.
It was like a family’s home kitchen; the atmosphere was on the small details of life and the funny anecdotes that occur each week, not on the magnitude of the work being done, or the magnitude of the food being made. It was an odd experience for me; for, while I enjoyed the conversation, I could not cease dwelling just how many apples I was peeling, and why I was peeling them. Then again, however, I was the new-comer. I think, perhaps, the regulars at PAH were able to concentrate on the small things of life because, to them, volunteering or working for this hugely influential non-profit was not a major event in their lives, it was merely another small detail that comprised their lives. Because I was new, and the experience was, by far, “an event”, I could not do the same.
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Mary Kate-
ReplyDeleteMy kitchen shift was slightly different than yours. While you felt welcomed and included in the conversation, It took a good hour and two tubs of chopped broccoli for me to integrate myself into the relaxed chatter of the "regulars". Once I became a part of the volunteers, however, I did feel very comfortable and enjoyed the random conversations about my coworkers' college experiences and the latest hockey game.
It is interesting that the regular PAH volunteers don't think twice about their shifts because it is a weekly habit, but students like you and me look at it with anxiety and curiosity. Do you think that the regulars felt like we did when they first worked a kitchen shift? Do you think we would be as comfortable as they are if we went every week? Maybe the friendships that they have made throughout the years at PAH are a factor of why they continue to volunteer their time.
-Kristen
Mary Kate-
ReplyDeleteGreat reflection! Mine was also different like Kristen's. It also took me a good hour to become integrated within the group. Once I introduced myself and got to know everyone, I became comfortable and enjoyed the conversations about everyday things. It is understandable that we do think more about our PAH volunteering in a different way. I believe the regulars probably felt the same way. There are probably a number of different factors that keep them coming back week after week, they have become part of a comfortable, wonderful community and love the difference they are making.
allison