INVESTMENT
Research shows helping others helps us, too
“Everybody can be great, because everybody can serve.”
— Martin Luther King Jr., Ebenezer Baptist Church, Feb. 4, 1968
We volunteer to help others, but research shows how much it helps us, too
Two months before he was killed, Martin Luther King Jr. described a mistake that wastes many lives. He called it the drum major instinct, “a desire to be out front, a desire to lead the parade, a desire to be first.”
In some ways, there is nothing more natural. Foals and shorebirds can fend for themselves the day they're born, but human children remain helpless for years. They must crave attention; without it, they would die.
But instead of subsiding with age, the drum major instinct spreads across our lives.
In a revealing series of studies, the psychologist Jennifer Crocker and her colleagues asked freshman college students about their social goals. Some cared most about making a good impression: showcasing their strengths and hiding their weaknesses. You might think this is a wise strategy among young adults sizing one another up, but it wasn't.
The more students focused on themselves, the more lonely, depressed and anxious they became, and anxiety in turn made students worry even more about their image. Scratching the itch of their drum major instinct, they made it worse.
As King saw it, our addiction to self poisons not only our personal relationships but also our culture.
But if the drum major instinct is poison, there is an antidote. Let's call it the drummer's instinct: an urge not to lead the parade, but to be part of it — in rhythm with others, creating something together that no one could alone. The drum major instinct zooms us in on ourselves, but the drummer's instinct drives us to care for our bandmates, and it runs deep. Young children crave attention, but they also prefer kindness over cruelty, and spontaneously help others in need.
Where the drum major instinct depletes us, the drummer's instinct fulfills us. In her studies, Crocker measured not just the college students' desire to stand out but also to be kind. Students who held these “compassionate goals” suffered less depression, anxiety and loneliness. They received more support from their peers, but that is not what predicted their well-being. Those who helped others were most likely to thrive.
This pattern, too, is widespread. Children and adults draw joy from helping others. Doctors who feel compassion for their patients burn out less often. Colleagues who support one another perform more effectively and are more fulfilled at work. And older adults who volunteer live longer and remain healthier than those who don't.
The evidence is uncontroversial — by serving others, we help ourselves.
The holiday honoring the birthday of civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. — the third Monday in January — was first observed in 1986. In 1995, it was designated a national day of service. With the 25th anniversary of the MLK Day of Service on Jan. 20, a few volunteers reflect below on how service has made a difference to themselves and others. — Jamil Zaki
Aiding the homeless: `It's such an honor to help them'
As a teenager in Chicago, Gabi Bello often spent her weekends wheeling around a clothing rack in a wagon with her friends to hand out donated coats and sweaters, along with hot chili and cornbread, to homeless people near her neighborhood.
“I always loved seeing their smiles and I loved how it made me feel to do it,” she said. “Interacting with people in need always reminded me of what my parents had taught me: `Bless others like you have been blessed.'”
So in 2018, when Bello, now 19, left Chicago to become a human services and social justice major at George Washington University in Washington, she realized that she wanted to continue to help.
Bello found the perfect way by signing up as a volunteer at Miriam's Kitchen, miriamskitchen.org, a charity that provides hot meals, clothing and help with housing to D.C.'s most vulnerable residents, with the goal of ending chronic homelessness.
A year and a half later, Bello is still there, volunteering after class 15 hours a week as a team leader for engageDC — an organization at GWU that partners students with nine community organizations in the District, including Miriam's Kitchen.
Managed by the university's Center for Civic Engagement and Public Service, engageDC has helped Bello to remember that not everyone is fortunate enough to attend college and spend their nights in a warm dorm room, she said.
“If I'm having a bad day, my mood immediately changes when I show up to volunteer,” she said. “I have a roof over my head and clothes on my back, and for too many people, those are luxuries. People who are homeless are often ostracized, but they're simply people with dreams like you and me. It brings a joy to my life to spend my spare time helping them,” Bello said. — Cathy Free
When cancer survivor visits hospital, `it's all about the kids'
Peter Steckelman received an unexpected “gift” on his 41st birthday in 2006. On that day, he was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin's B-cell lymphoma at the UCLA Medical Center and soon started a harsh treatment regimen that included chemotherapy and radiation.
“It was a rather jarring and eyeopening experience to say the least,” he says in an understated way. Four years later, Steckelman — now an attorney and business executive at the Tennis Channel — was clear of the cancer.
Since his diagnosis, Steckelman has donated to various cancer charities. But once he was considered cured in 2010, he “thought there's got to be a way I can do something more.” He remembered that UCLA has “a terrific children's hospital” and decided to reach out.
After a background check, he was accepted as a volunteer in the Chase Child Life Program at UCLA Mattel Children's Hospital in Los Angeles.
For nine years, Steckelman has spent Sunday mornings with the kids at UCLA.
Steckelman chose to work with pediatric patients because, he said, “why not help the kids so they can have a better, happy, productive and full life?”
Steckelman paused for a moment: “But, it's hard. There are times when the kids are a little older, especially [those with hematologic or blood cancers] or some that are in the ICU. ... That brings me back to moments of my own struggles. I don't like it, but I go back to the part where it's not about me” — it's about the kids.
“I force myself past it and I just do it,” he said.
In 2020, Peter Steckelman starts his 10th year as a volunteer. He has no plans to stop his Sunday visits.