The hidden benefit of service club membership

Burnsville Breakfast Rotary volunteers doing a yard clean-up service project.

I’ve been a member of a service club for probably 25 years. For most of my tenure in the Mankato Schools, I was a member of Downtown Kiwanis in which I even served as president for a year. Since moving to the Twin Cities metro area, I’ve been a member of a Rotary club where I have served on the board as program and community service chairs. 

These clubs do good work. We raise money for national and international health initiatives; we fund scholarships for students in need; we give grants to local nonprofits which seek to eradicate hunger and provide shelter in the area. We hold a variety of fundraisers to finance these monetary gifts. We also support local nonprofits by volunteering to host holiday parties, work at other fundraisers, and do park clean up. For a club of fewer than 35 members, we have an outsized impact.

But what I enjoy most about being a service club member is the sense of community membership bestowed through involvement. Fellow club members are often community leaders - local government officials, legal professionals, business owners, and academics. People who are respected and listened to by the greater community. At club meetings, programs often inform us about local projects, organizations, and resources. (At the past couple meetings, we toured a new fire station and heard from a representative of the metro area airport commission, for example.) Plus the meetings and service opportunities are just good times to socialize with people who feel good about giving to others. 

For me, however, there may have also been a hidden benefit to my involvement - job security. 

As a technology director, I was “non-affiliated” which meant I had no professional organization such as a teachers’ union to bargain for me or protect my rights were I to be fired. I “served at the pleasure of the board” from year to year. Given that the role of tech director was relatively new when I took it on in the early 90s, the position had no benchmarks for effective performance. My sense is that one big screw up and I would be sent down the road kicking horse turds. 

I did have one perceivable skill known to the public via my membership in Kiwanis. I could hook up damn near any laptop computer to the club’s projector and get both the Powerpoint and any audiovisual programs to show on the screen and be heard. It was this small talent which convinced the Mankato community that I was a technical genius and therefore served the school district well and should retain his job. It certainly didn’t hurt that the superintendent and a school board member were also Kiwanians. 

My lesson from this is that it is harder to fire a known community member than someone who is simply an employee. I suspect one can also become “community members” through religious activities, political engagements, YMCAs, youth groups such as Scouts or 4-H, or service directly to nonprofits. 

Be more than just an employee by being an active participant in your community. You will not just be helping others; you’ll be helping yourself. 

There is a story in everyone

“On one flight when I was working as an attendant, I looked out the window over the wing of the plane and saw two engines on fire. It was pretty unnerving since I knew the pilots were unable to see the engines from the cockpit. You could feel the plane descend rapidly and I wondered if this was the end!”

Nine times out of ten, I am treated to a story by the older clients I take their doctor, hairdresser, and shopping locations. As a volunteer driver, I consider those stories my payment for the service.

The stories vary widely. Great tales of adventures fishing and camping “up north.” Sad stories of beloved pets, long passed, but still alive in the memory of the teller. A rather funny telling of how a water heater broke down on one Thanksgiving when the host’s house had 20 relatives all staying there. Recollections of meeting famous people. Of road trips and international travel. Recollections of beloved cars and good meals. You just never know what these folks might have to say about any given topic.

While few, if any, of these narratives would make a very interesting novel, magazine story, or news headline, each in its own way has value. To the teller, of course, but especially to me, the listener. I have been most fortunate to have lived a life of travel, accomplishment, and adventure - and do my best to continue to do so. So it is rather easy to feel pity for those whose lives seem to have been lived less fully with little travel, dull jobs, no excitement, scarce family, and no public recognition for accomplishments.

But the stories folks tell remind me that they have simply lived different lives, not lesser lives. That they do not deserve pity and that I am sort of an ass for feeling that they should. I need that reminder that humans are unique and all have value.

I can’t wait to hear my next story this afternoon!

Last year's worries

What were you worrying about this time last year? I can tell you precisely.

According to my calendar, April 18 (the day I started writing this) fell on a Sunday in 2021 and I went on a group hike around some lakes in Minneapolis.

While I only faintly remember the hike, I know for sure that I was wearing a backpack of about 20 pounds. And that I was very concerned about my blood pressure. Not that I would have a stroke or heart attack, but that my blood pressure reading might keep me from completing a long planned-for adventure with my grandson - backpacking the Philmont Boy Scout Ranch in New Mexico.

The Scouts have lots of rules for “high adventure” excursions. I had to get a physical. I completed Wilderness First Aid training. I took the Youth Protection Training course. But my biggest concern was knowing that after arriving in Philmont and before beginning the 60 mile backpacking trip, all adults had to submit to a blood pressure check. And my blood pressure runs high - especially when I am getting it checked. (White Coat Hypertension - it’s a real thing.)

So my worry was that after years of anticipation, months of training, hours of classes, and days of travel, I would find myself stuck at the basecamp while the rest of my crew headed into the Sangre de Christo mountains without me. What made matters worse was it seemed there would be no second chance to be retested. The check was made just a couple hours before the hike began.

I expressed my concern to our guide who worked at the camp and asked if I could not be given my BP check the day we arrived so if I failed, I could try again the next morning. The young man simply looked at me, winked, and said, “Nobody fails the blood pressure test.” 

And I didn’t. I got my blood pressure checked. I have absolutely no clue what those two little numbers were. Literally months of worry were for naught. I seemed to struggle no more or less than the other adults hiking. I don’t think I embarrassed my grandson too horribly.

I often try to adjust my thinking about a problem by asking myself if I will still be worrying about it a year from now. My biggest concern right now is a leaking sink in my bathroom. I’m not stewing about it too much since I rather doubt it will still be leaking this time next year. Even given my plumbing skills.

Are there things worth worrying about? My health, for sure. I am sure I will still be trying to keep my weight down this time next year. The happiness of my friends and family. Issues of local importance in which I can provide an active solution by volunteering. I am not particularly worried about Ukraine, COVID, supply chains, gun violence, divisive politics, etc. I try to stay informed but I also recognize my personal influence over these matters is miniscule.

What do you find worth worrying about?