How Will 2009 Be Defined? The Year Of The Volunteer Connection

Posted by: John R. Chambers    Date: December 21, 2009

It's been a little over a year since our collective fires started to dim. The fire I speak of, of course, was the unprecedented passion that millions of Americans poured into the presidential election.

There's been plenty of water to throw on the fire. Military campaigns. Foreclosures. Climate change. Swine Flu. Joblessness. Poverty. Single payer. Michael Jackson.

Certainly enough misery to call it a depression, right? But we don't toss that word around like we did in the 1930s. Today, we define it as a medical condition. Thankfully, today, there are treatments for both.

For the country, I'm not taking about bailouts, economic stimulus, tax credits, or health care reform. That's what we sent our politicians to prescribe last November. So what's the treatment millions of Americans have prescribed for themselves and their communities? Volunteerism.

It's what I prescribed for myself when I introduced an idea called BloomBars. Today, it manifests in a peculiar two-story storefront on 11th Street in Columbia Heights, Washington, DC.

Painted purple and adorned with lyrics extolling meanings of love, BloomBars has a mission and mantra that we believe can play a powerful role in enriching, if not transforming, a community. "You Bloom. We Bloom." – is what I asked my artist brother, Shane W. Evans, to paint above the door.

The concept is pretty simple. As a non-profit organization, we work to unite and inspire communities through the arts while nurturing artists committed to the community. As one grows, we all grow.

BloomBars is a place that welcomes everyone, without judgment or pretention. A space that encourages interaction and dialog, instead of argument and debate.

A space that values the presence and contributions of all members of the community-across generation, race, culture and language. It's the "One People" we heard during the election, but probably fail to see in our everyday lives.

Opening our doors with that intention has led to some interesting conversations about community, and what it means to be a part of one.

The one I live in has seen some dramatic changes since I moved here 10 years ago. We've gone from a predominantly African-American and Latino community, with some Ethiopian and Vietnamese sprinkled in, to seeing mostly Caucasian faces walk down my street today.

I've heard it called a "Community in transition," others call it "gentrification." Whatever you want to call it, it has forced several diverse groups to figure out how to live together.

Some might say it's not going so well. In the corner store owned by an African-American family of four generations, it has dominated the conversation for the last decade. In the new wine bar across the street—not so much. People passed each other on the street with nary a glance. Sadly, it's a scene being played out in urban communities across this country.

But this year, in my community, something, somehow felt a little different. I see the wine bar owner buying his cigarettes at the corner store and staying to chat. I see the family who owns the corner store popping in the wine bar to buy fresh bread.

But my hunch that people were more engaged, more willing to reach out beyond their comfortable borders was confirmed when I wrote "Volunteers Needed" on a whiteboard outside our door.

The responses started to trickle in initially. First, there was the researcher who agreed to study the 100-year-old building's history—not a bad place to start. Then, there were the people who just wanted to usher. Several responded that they could help with our website. And of course there were a bunch of out-of-work attorneys who offered free legal assistance. We even got a military mom who lives 50 miles away, but manages our email list because she has lots of time free during the day.

The highlight of this community altruism was when the guy who owns a "Train your dog not to bark" business (he does very well), and one of the neighborhood guys who sadly spends much of his time cozying up to a bottle, offered to help dig a ditch in the front of our building so we could build a wheel chair ramp and plant flowers.

There they were. Well-to-do white guy, and struggling black guy, talking, laughing, moving piles of dirt. Together. They won't pass each other on the street again and not speak.

That's it. There it is. Says it all. Yes, people want to help. We know that people in this country donate more of their time and money than any place else in the world. But they also want to develop deeper and more meaningful connections with the people they share the sidewalk with and pass everyday.

Like their soy chai mocha lattés, Americans want their volunteer experience to suit their tastes. The difference now is they want to find a connection with the person next to them while they wait in line.

I can't tell you how helpful this support from all corners of the community has been. I'm sure there are many struggling organizations like ours who feel the painful pinch financially, but what we've lost in dollars, we've gained in volunteers' service. We wouldn't be around without it.

But as much as we've gained from this support, it's the relationships I've seen develop between neighbors and our artists that has been the greatest benefit in my community.

Thankfully, technology has made it a lot easier to find organizations like ours in communities across the nation. While they haven't made my "Volunteers Needed" sign obsolete just yet, Volunteermatch.com a national online aggregator of volunteer opportunities, seems to have risen to the top as the standard barer for connecting people with the perfect volunteer fit. Kudos to BlackPlanet Rising for creating that partnership.

The year has certainly had its share of highlights and lowlights. The one that will stick with me happened in the produce department of my local grocery. That's when I heard two perfect strangers walk-up to each other and say, "Didn't we meet at BloomBars, and then proceed to hug, and have a real conversation."

There I was, surrounded by fruit from the harvest, but no fruit could have tasted as sweet as that moment.

Yes, 2009 could be defined by a new fervor for volunteerism, but it's been also about the powerful human connections that can result.