At around noon on Saturday, I made my way to Centennial Halls to meet Marissa, Megan, and Jamie. We hopped into Marissa’s car at 12:30pm as planned, and started off to Project Angel Heart. We were all excited about making the deliveries, but none of us really knew what to expect. Arriving at the organization, I observed a small white building, and a truck that read “Project Angel Heart” parked in front. The four of us went inside and stood in a small crowded room, where other volunteers gathered waiting for instruction. Clearly, it was a friendly place. We were surrounded with smiles and laughter, and we were even offered burritos.
Moments later, Russ, the route coordinator, entered the small room of awaiting volunteers and began speaking. He thanked us all for being there, and went on to inform us of exactly what we would be doing. He gave an overview of the organization’s purpose, and then held up an example of a paper we would be receiving, that had a map and addresses of the people who were receiving Project Angel Heart’s food. We learned that there were specific directions for each person, such as “Knock, and wait a little, because this client may take some time to get to the door.” I was impressed by how detailed the information was. Next, Rus told us what was appropriate to do and say to the clients we would be interacting with. We were also informed it was not okay to go inside their house, or even help them with anything if they asked. I understood why that rule existed; we simply are providing a means of getting food to them, not anything else. When my group received our paper, I was surprised that each route was catered to the volunteers, so that people wouldn’t unnecessarily drive too far out of their way. We had three deliveries to make. After loading the bags in Marissa’s car, we were off.
The houses were near DU, and not too difficult to find. Megan and I took the first job. The information on the paper said that this woman might take a while to answer the door, and if a dog was barking, she was home. We knocked a few times, but no person, or dog, seemed home. We left the bag outside and called Project Angel Heart to let them know. Jamie and Marissa delivered the next bag. For the last bag, it was my turn again. We arrived at an apartment complex right around the corner from DU, which I didn’t even know existed. The paper had detailed instructions with the code to type in, and where the client’s room was. We did as instructed, and were buzzed in. We opened the door, and proceeded up the stairs. The narrow hallway had bright red carpet, and strongly smelled of smoke. As we approached the room, the door was wide open. A pale man, with whitish-gray hair, stood still in the doorway. He appeared in his seventies at first glance, but when I looked closer, it became clear that he was no older than fifty—if that. Without any sort of facial expression, he reached for bag. I couldn’t help but notice how shaky his hands were. He then said “Thank You”. I was shocked by his expressionless gesture. I smiled and replied, “Have a nice day”. As I walked back to the car, I felt different things. I couldn’t decide if I felt good for doing the job, or if I felt just plain sad. Minutes later, our three delivers were completed, and I was back at my dorm.
I believe my first experience volunteering for Project Angel Heart helped me better understand the public good—not because I didn’t value volunteering previously, but because it was the first time my emotions were intensely altered during the job. The feelings I felt after interacting with the man are unexplainable. I knew that what I did helped him, but I was also very aware that I wasn’t making him any happier. Of course he is thankful for receiving food, but that doesn’t cure his sickness. It doesn’t solve his problem. So in a way, I learned that helping the public doesn’t need to mean you are fixing anything; it just means you are helping somebody less fortunate.
From my experience delivering, I learned that volunteering is not always fun; it doesn’t always lead to happy feelings. I was proud I gave my time for this community service and helped get the clients their food, but I didn’t feel good afterward. I felt bad—bad I couldn’t help that man more. I know that any help is better than nothing, so I would gladly provide the service again.
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2 comments:
After reading this service learning log i now have a better perspective of what a well written log should look like. I liked the way that Keren detailed the events of the deliveries in a manner that way insightful, but at the same time it did not inundate the reader with details. Also, i thought that the part about the ill man was a great touch. It really drove home the pathos of the reader. in addition, your reflection on your experiences and how you value service learning really provides a nice perspective to your log.
Keren-
Through my delivery shifts with PAH, I have had several experiences very similar to the one you described. A couple key things strike me about the account you give here. Often, I think volunteers, myself included, place too much emphasis on emotion. As you have done, I think it is important for us to come to the realization that our "success" should not be based on such feelings. Often, we cannot fix things, nor are we meant to.
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