We’d be nothing without volunteers
HERE’S YESTERDAY’S SCENARIO: all of a sudden, mid-afternoon, a film-projector needed to be delivered to Tesuque. One of our staff agreed to drive there. But that meant he could not work as the projectionist for the evening movie at TCA. And so that meant that another staff member was not available to work front of house because she had to be the projectionist. And that revealed that we just did not have enough volunteers to make the evening event work.
I want to show how much volunteers matter at a place like TCA. I want to show how one person being called away means things can unravel. I want to tell this story for Taos and volunteers and not only for TCA.
In a former world and time, someone not showing up for a good reason — another job, a family birthday, a seasonal sickness, an impromptu vacation — meant that there were three or four volunteers we could call on for an hour to pop and serve popcorn, take tickets, hand out programs. We were rich in this way.
And we have been graced — truly — with generous volunteers through the pandemic even though that group is smaller now and for good reasons. We have stayed in touch with some who have let us know they just don’t know when they will return to crowded spaces. We have worked with those who volunteered before vaccinations existed and happily worked outdoor events. Those who were vaccinated early and said they were ready to return to serving indoors. Those who
understood masks were required. Those who accepted that their jobs would never be the same, but they still showed up. No programs to hand out anymore. No tickets to take from attendees. We are contactless. We are distanced.
Volunteers are extraordinary in what they offer: their gifts, their time, their lifetimes of careers and professions, their decades of givingmuscle, their recognition of the importance of nurturing. Which is to say that they don’t bat an eye when no one shows up for an event. And they don’t bat an eye when 275 people show up either. For them, offering is what matters.
When our theater was closed for fifteen months, I would occasionally get emails from volunteers who said, we miss you all, we miss TCA, we miss the movies. We miss others. We hope to come back.
And I understood that this TCA they knew was connected to being with each other and strangers.
I too missed their presence and their generosity. Their hilarity. Their quirks. Did we have things they could do remotely? Of course, but they wanted the thing, the togetherness, the energy.
This is where I get to say that our episode with the projector yesterday is probably something other nonprofits in Taos understand. In the last 18 months, there have been numerous moments which reveal, in the span of a phone call or the mail arriving or an email at end of day, that we are pulled thin. That the volunteers are missing. The ones we counted on.
TCA has been extraordinarily fortunate in that we have a staff that steps up daily to fill in when there isn’t a volunteer. The staff member who drives to Tesuque. The staff member who works as projectionist instead on short-notice. We have been fortunate that there is an individual who works with us in the office now — in the pandemic as it goes on — and scares us all into finding the work worthy of her expertise, her training. What a great fear to have! She shows up and asks: What’s next? We also have had individuals show up to work outside in the weeds, trees and dirt of the large property. We have volunteers who have worked outdoors since we began the seasonal drive-in at our back parking lot. They didn’t ask if anyone would come. They just asked: What time? Where do I stand?
In the meantime, all of us at TCA are volunteering, too. Volunteering doesn’t have to be formal or have a badge or mean you serve on a board. Volunteering is collecting food for people, blankets for dogs, making phone calls from home, checking tickets, sending love, answering after hours, or filling in when there aren’t volunteers and the show must go on.