A 50+ Volunteer Sees the Economic Crisis from the Frontlines

When I retired from the Federal Government last May, I wanted to start a volunteer “job” within a month or two, figuring that it would help me transition from being a Type A, 10½-hour-a-day, stressed-out working stiff to being a retiree.  I’d given 37 years of service to the public sector—most of it to a child and family services agency—but I was far removed from the clients we served.

When I met with April Willey of the Sussex County Retired and Senior Volunteer Program (RSVP), she told me that the State’s Division of Social Services (DSS) needed help answering phones, and asked if I would consider helping them.  We both knew it wasn’t the kind of volunteer work I had in mind for the long term; however, when I found out that DSS implemented the same programs that my Federal agency administered, the opportunity to see the programs in action at the client level was too tempting to pass up.

I began volunteering with DSS six weeks after my retirement, working eight hours a week (two four-hour days).  The office I worked for handles the Food Stamp Program (now called the Food Supplement Program), Medicaid and Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (aka cash assistance).  When I started at DSS, the economic downturn had started, but it wouldn’t be in full swing (in terms of how it impacted my job) for a few more months.

The DSS phone room can be a rather intense experience.  It is the first line of contact for people calling to request assistance, so you’re often talking to people at their most desperate time—they can’t feed their children; they’ve lost their job and can’t pay the mortgage; they’ve lost their home; they’ve left an abusive spouse; they’re at a doctor’s office with a sick child.  There were days when I left there after my 4-hour shift in a heavy-hearted and depressed mood.

Even though I wasn’t the one directly giving the clients the benefits they needed, I was helping them get to the right person, agency or charitable organization to help lift them out of the situation they were facing.  If nothing else, I wanted to be a kind and compassionate voice on the phone for people facing a very difficult time in their lives.

As bad as it sounds, it wasn’t always easy to be compassionate.  When people are desperate, they can become short-tempered.  I was a faceless voice on the phone, and some people took their frustration out on me. On the flip side, there were moments—and people—that I will never forget, like these:

• An older woman who had lost her home called me the morning after her first night in a homeless shelter.  I didn’t have to see her face to know the fear, pain and embarrassment she was feeling—I could hear it.  When I hung up, I was fighting back tears.



• An older man called who’d just gotten out of the hospital after having brain surgery.  He could pay his mortgage and his regular household bills, he said, or he could pay the enormous hospital bills—but he couldn’t do both.  This was hardly the only time I heard a story like this.  I felt so sad that these people couldn’t just rest and recuperate after going through a traumatic sickness, injury or surgery; instead, they were stressed out and expending precious energy trying to figure out how they were going to take care of the hospital bills.



• A young woman called and asked if she would be able to be seen that day for sure.  I couldn’t really guarantee her that.  “I only have enough gas to get there and back,” she explained, “so if I can’t be seen for sure, I can’t afford to come.”  Wow.  This really knocked me back.  Gas prices were super high at the time, and I realized—my God, there must be a lot of people in this situation right now.  It was a sobering realization.

As the economic downturn worsened, the number of people calling for assistance increased exponentially, as did the client caseload.  People who had never even thought of having to ask for assistance were now calling, as businesses went under and people lost their jobs en masse.  With the caseload so incredibly high, the social workers were overwhelmed.  It was hard to believe that it could get worse from where I started, but it most definitely did get worse.

By February 2009, I knew that I needed a change.  I dropped back from 8 hours/2 days a week at DSS to 4 hours/1 day a week.  From February to June 2009, I worked Mondays—the busiest day of the week in the phone room.  On June 15, 2009, I decided to take an extended leave of absence from DSS so that I could devote time to my new volunteer “job” with Coming of Age Delaware and do some traveling later in the summer and early fall.  I made it one month shy of a year in a job I thought I wouldn’t be in for 6 months.

Though it was trying at times, I see my year at DSS as an incredible blessing.  Thanks to my work at DSS, I realized that I was wealthy compared to many, many people.  Sure, I’d had to cut back due to my lower (retirement) income level and the economic situation, but I had a home that I could pay the mortgage and bills for, a car that I could afford to put gas in, and food in my refrigerator.  It really helped me put things in perspective and be incredibly grateful for what I had. 

I met some wonderful people at DSS—hard-working, dedicated public servants whose jobs are a hundred times tougher than mine in the phone room.  Whether I go back to volunteering at DSS in the fall or I don’t, I will always be grateful to them for allowing me to help—in some small way—serve people in need during one of this country’s most desperate economic crises.

Note:  If you’re over 50, live in Sussex County and are interested in volunteering, contact April Willey (or her colleague Linda Rogers) of RSVP at 302-856-5815. There are lots of possibilities!