Return to Volunteering

After having barely slept two and a half hours, I leaped out of bed at the sound of my alarm. There was this skin-deep impetus to jump out of bed, shower, and then hurry to NYU for volunteering. There has been an amazing amount of stigma surrounding the word "volunteer." A volunteer is relegated roles by upper staff members. Volunteers are clearly demarcated from Staff by tee shirt. This not only highlights the distinction, it also lends to imagined pressure and imagined employment of power struggle. A volunteer might feel the need to show a staff member off just for the hell of it. I always follow directions, but I always end up modifying directions to my own interest. This is usually dissuaded and frowned upon by staff. Expected. Staff members may also enter a mode of groupthink and show their higher elevation towards volunteers in many subtle, disguised ways. One of the priviledges that set staff apart from volunteers is the food they have. This is similar to how actors are treated: Union actors who are represented by agents get fed better food/eat with the union members/are fed earlier than non-union actors who are shown the Kraft table (e.g. basic black coffee, soda, "finger foods" which are not wholesome meals). They may eat a higher priced meal or order from a less homogenous spot. Though this is a very small situation to make a mountain out of a mohill, these are the little things that are subtle in power dynamics. I met Sandra, the female lead staff member and Mark, a familiar face in Hunter. I facilitated impression management by summoning curt personality. I avoided talking to the three girls afterwards because I felt isolated and out of place. Purely alone with my own self. I placed a self-fulfilling hypothesis: by framing these females as elite, unwilling to talk, not my type, and simply too gangster for me, I had verified and excused myself for not starting a conversation. In this situation, I ended up accepting my hypothesis and finally believed that these females were in fact unwilling to talk to me, indifferent, and purely uninterested. But again, the reality is this is not a dating show or blind date event. They don't have to be interested in me; in fact they can be as belligerent with me as they want. But of course the venue would disapprove of such hostility. What can I say about the event today? I made no attempts at making friends whatsoever because I was weighed down by fear of rejection. I was weighed down by regret that I did not make a more graceful impact on my fellow volunteers. I regret not being able to say bye to two persons -- Marc and this girl that shook hands with me in the beginning. There ARE nice people out there who do want to know me, but at moments when I want people to know me, I can't find them. Today they found me, but instead I refused to acknowledge them. We often take things for granted, even things that merely become evident the moment they come to us.