Thursday, March 14, 2019

Volunteering for Abuse

Since moving to Maine I have had little luck in finding gainful employment as a writer. This is primarily because I come from New York and have an "edge" that creeps into my work. Maine editors do not value an "edge." I have been told as much by at least five of them who liked my writing but found it, how shall I say, a bit too strident. Still, I'd rather be an unemployed writer with an edge than a smoothed out one with a paltry paycheck, especially since my husband smooths out his New York edge for much bigger bucks and supports me with his salary. So, in order to avoid feeling like a complete slug who gives nothing back to society, I have tried, many times, to contribute something through volunteering.

I am now an expert on volunteering and can safely say that at least here in the greater Portland area, there are no opportunities for personal growth through volunteering. There are only opportunities for working at unimportant or menial tasks for no pay and with little if any reward, except if you do it long enough they eventually take you out for a big lunch and give you the chance to be named "Volunteer of the Year."

Most recently I dipped my toe into the Portland Ronald McDonald House, where families of sick kids who are in the hospital get to stay for free, meals included. Also included is maid service, which is where the volunteers come in.

I got to change sheets, do laundry, clean bathrooms, empty dishwashers, empty old food from the fridge, sweep up and vacuum, water plants, wash down kitchen counters and tidy up the dining tables, all in the name of "volunteerism." I never interacted with any parents of any sick kids, or for that matter anyone else at all. At the end of my three-hour shift I just walked out. There was no need to say goodbye.

Yesterday I walked out for good. If I'm going to be a cleaning lady, I'd like to get paid. And if I'm going to be a volunteer, I'd like at least a warm feeling of "I mattered" to wash over me afterwards. Since neither of those things happened, I figure I add more to the world by making art. Shown here is my latest.



No comments:

Post a Comment

Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer. Big Deal.

The words "grandmother" and "grandfather" have been abused by scores of lazy news writers who lack a broad vocabulary to...