Knowing when to stop volunteering is hard for people who love to serve. I am one of them.
Volunteering has given me a great deal.
I served with Habitat for Humanity. I visited nursing homes through service learning at Purdue. I led large projects after school. Each time, I could see the impact on people, and that mattered to me.
I gained plenty too. I learned skills. I built connections. I improved my English, because volunteering gave me a place to practice while doing something useful.
So yes, I am a master volunteer. I earned that title through years of showing up, figuring things out, and occasionally making the dangerous mistake of looking competent.
Competence is how they get you. You come to help with one project. Suddenly you have a committee, a spreadsheet, and a key to a storage closet you never wanted to know existed.
A couple of hours a month
A few years ago, I volunteered for an organization. Someone reached out and told me it would be a couple of hours a month. All meetings are online, they said. You don’t have to attend in person.
Those rules changed. Last year I counted 159 hours!
How did this happen?
What I felt was sheepish. I was hoping to learn and to connect. The more time I spent, the less I felt connected. I was too busy completing tedious work.
Then I was asked to do more. I stepped down.
Don’t chase the carrots
Volunteering stops working when you aspire to gain something from it and that something never comes.
A few clients I coach remained in volunteer roles for several years. One hoped to be next in line to be hired. Another hoped to be included in opportunities. That was never the case. They were bypassed.
That is the carrot. It hangs just ahead of you. One more event. One more committee. One more year. You keep walking, and it keeps the same distance.
Eventually you have given enough hours to qualify as part of the building. The building still has not offered you a job.
Don’t chase the carrots when you can grow your own.
When you don’t know how to say no
In one situation, a parent volunteered at an elementary school. She was concerned that her son was not adjusting. Volunteering was her way to meet his teachers and put his mind at ease. Her plan was his first year.
The following year she was called on, and she accepted. It went on, even after he left that primary school. She didn’t know how to say no. So she remained, and she felt resentful.
When the asks keep coming
Another client volunteered at a place that was not even a nonprofit. She remained to learn.
Soon she was expected to drive to buy food for clients, using her own gas. Then the owner asked her to watch her dog while she was on vacation. Then came shoveling snow, after the owner let go of the staff who did that.
Asking, and asking, and asking from the same person for their generosity, without giving back. There is a word for that: an askhole.
Appropriate? Absolutely not!
Why do we stay?
It is the story of the frog who remained in the pot as the water got heated.
The frog had time to leave. The water warmed a little each day, and the frog never noticed. The frog never stopped to ask, “Is this too uncomfortable to take?”
Volunteers do the same. The role grows a little. The hours grow a little. The hope stays exactly where it was. Nobody rings a bell to announce that the water is now soup.
When to stop volunteering: six questions
- Is this too uncomfortable to take?
- Is there reciprocity? You give your time. What comes back to you?
- Are you learning from your role?
- Are you gaining what you hoped for?
- Are you feeling fulfilled from your role?
- Is it taking you away from something important?
If you do not like your answers, hop out.
How to step down without excuses
Hopping out takes one short message. Thank them. State your decision. Give a date. Offer a clean handoff.
You are welcome to borrow these words:
“Thank you for the chance to serve. I have decided to step down from this role. My last day will be the end of this month.”
“I can finish this project, and then I am stepping down. I am glad to hand my notes to the next person.”
“I am able to give two hours a month. Beyond that, my answer is no.”
“Thank you for thinking of me. I will pass on this one.”
Every one of those is complete as written. An excuse invites a debate, and someone will offer to solve it for you. A decision, said with thanks, closes the conversation kindly.
Don’t complain and don’t explain. But you can remove your name from the suckers hotline registry.
Grow your own
Don’t chase the carrots when you can grow your own. Growing starts with an ask.
A private hope is an ask nobody heard. The people in charge cannot say yes to a wish you never spoke.
This is where The Art of the Ask comes in. Say what you are hoping for. Ask about the job. Ask to be included. Ask for a timeline. A clear ask gets a clear answer, and either answer sets you free.
If the answer is no, you have your hours back. Plant them somewhere they will grow. Apply for the position elsewhere. Start the project you keep promising yourself. Offer your skill where it is valued.
I still believe in volunteering. I have seen what it does for people, including the person giving the time. I want it to stay a choice I can explain.
So check the water. Ask your six questions. Make your ask out loud.
And if the carrot keeps moving, grab a shovel. Your own garden is waiting.
Leila Kubesch is a keynote speaker, speaking coach, and author. Her keynote, The Art of the Ask, shows leaders and teams how to make the ask with confidence. To bring Leila to your event, write to Leila@LeilaKubesch.com.
