Serving at Home: Five Lessons from Volunteer Work
By Brigid Calhoun
It took less than one semester of virtual graduate school to realize I had too much time on my hands. Transitioning from the fast-paced, nearly non-stop years of company command to the less structured lifestyle of graduate school was a welcome change–initially. But within a few months I missed being busy. I missed interacting with people, like so many others did during the early days of the COVID-19 shut-downs. I missed that sense of purpose (beyond trying to be the best student I could be). After a few weeks of complaining, I decided to do something about it and devote my Mondays to volunteer work.
The three years of stability provided by the Joint Chiefs of Staff internship program mark the first time in my career that I am stationed anywhere for that duration of time–uninterrupted by field training exercises, deployments, or other extended temporary duty (TDY) trips. For me, it’s a long-awaited opportunity to establish roots in a community and genuinely connect with people outside of the military. Although the National Capital Region is home to myriad military installations, it differs from my previous duty stations in that the military is just one facet of many that drives the local culture and economy. With my work and education as a Soldier tethered to one location for three uninterrupted years, I could learn, immerse, and contribute to my community in new ways. I could be a citizen, not just a resident.
I felt a call to volunteer at the local level. I felt, and still feel, incredibly fortunate to have received a scholarship for graduate school while on active duty. I saw so many people in my northern Virginia community who were not as fortunate. Like many other American localities, the COVID-19 pandemic resulted in sweeping unemployment and hardship for many families. I felt that I could make the biggest impact by helping the families hit hardest by the pandemic.
I decided to volunteer at a 501-c(3) crisis pregnancy center in Alexandria, Virginia, that primarily serves low-income families, many of whom are immigrants and/or single-parent households struggling to provide basic necessities for their children. The center provides infant and toddler clothes, maternity clothes, diapers, formula, food, car seats, strollers, cribs, pack-n-plays, and many other equipment items at no cost to families. With this material assistance, parents can raise their children with the full dignity they deserve. The center is entirely run by volunteers, most of whom are retirees, and 100% driven by donations.
Now that I have been back at work for a little over four months, I’ve reflected on five lessons I’ve learned from my year of serving these families:
(1) Service to the nation is more than fighting wars overseas–it requires service at home, too.
This is a concept that I rediscovered during my volunteer service and one whose understanding would benefit all service members. It is easy for us to fall into the “hero trap” when we’re constantly thanked for our service, given discounts at restaurants and sporting events, and provided significant benefits by our government. But in both peacetime and wartime, thousands of local volunteers in our communities carry on heroic work day in and day out. The COVID-19 pandemic brought many of these local heroes long overdue recognition. Service members should not just be content with the service they provide as required by their contract and oath of office–there are ample opportunities for every citizen to serve the nation here at home.
(2) Every person possesses inherent dignity and worth–our common humanity binds us all together.
The Army Values, our Declaration of Independence, and Constitution affirm this sacred truth, but it is still one we can take for granted or overlook. It became a key tenant of the “winning hearts and minds” strategy of the past two decades’ Global War on Terror. But how often do we act upon our revered, foundational principles at home in our daily lives? Inviting close contact and even building relationships with people from other walks of life who face daily challenges we may never experience, highlights a fundamental and formative contrast. This contrast puts us in a vulnerable position that reminds and reaffirms the universal dignity and worth of each person. Encountering an unemployed father who comes into the center humbly requesting diapers and clothes for his children, or a mother working three jobs asking for a car seat for her newborn, enables us to recognize their inherent dignity. To see struggle that you are fortunate enough not to endure yourself produces gratitude and a sense of kinship.
(3) Good leaders need to be good followers.
Coming out of company command, one grows accustomed to being “the chief” who gets to call all the shots. My volunteer experience was a powerful reminder that good leaders must also be good followers. The center at which I served was 100% run by volunteers–some of whom have worked there for nearly twenty years. I came into my volunteer job with a lot of energy and initiative. I immediately began looking around for ways to gain efficiencies within the organization. I had to balance this enthusiasm with learning both how and why things ran the way they did at the center. I completed a training program and was deputized to a long-serving volunteer named Maureen. She hailed from a military family and is a true angel here on earth. She taught me all the ins-and-outs of serving the community at the center. Maureen is a wonderful example of a hard-charging, but gentle and loving, civilian servant-leader. She immediately commanded my respect and tempered my initial “Army officer” approach to volunteering. The more I sat back to watch and learn from Maureen, the more I enjoyed the work and saw its impact on the families we served. Her depth and breadth of experience — and her approach — fit the cause she serves. Good, effective leadership and followership look different in every environment, and volunteering gave me the perspective to recognize this.
(4) Many immigrants still strongly believe in the American Dream–and are willing to endure significant hardships to make that dream a reality.
Many of the families we served were immigrants–primarily from Central America, Africa, and Afghanistan. Spanish speaking skills were in high demand for volunteers, and I dusted off my rusty high school Spanish in an effort to connect with our families. I also cherished the opportunity to help Afghan immigrants settle into the northern Virginia area–I had many beautiful conversations with them about the country they left and our nations’ commitment to one another. I was awed and inspired by the hardworking families who came to our center for assistance. I ended each volunteer shift with a profound sense of gratitude for my country, my family, and all of my blessings. My interactions with these families validated and reinforced the Army’s mission, and America’s importance to the world as a shining city upon a hill. Currently, the center has surged support to Afghan refugees since the August airlift out of Kabul. I am proud to have been a small part of an organization honoring our sacred duty to the Afghan people.
(5) There’s something truly beautiful about the heart of a child.
Hands down, my favorite part of volunteering at the center was interacting with the children who passed through our doors. Just inside the entrance, we kept a Christmas tree with toys underneath it. My fellow volunteers and I would change the decorations of the tree each month to reflect the latest holiday or season. I loved watching the children come in with smiles, rush towards the tree to survey the gifts, and politely ask if they could have one. I don’t think I ever saw a child grab a toy without first asking for permission, either from his/her parents or from a volunteer. I also witnessed touching examples of courage and personal responsibility from older siblings caring for their parents and young siblings. Often, the eldest child was the only one in the family who spoke English. Many times I spoke to children between the ages of five and ten on the phone calling on behalf of their parents. Frequently, they requested baby supplies or equipment for their family. These children may not have had any concept of their financial status–they just loved their families, were grateful for what they had, and had the conviction and maturity to represent the needs of their parents and siblings. Their examples of love and innocence fed my soul and reminded me of what is good, true, and beautiful in our world.
Conclusion
The COVID-19 pandemic rendered graduate school a much different experience than I had anticipated. Despite not getting to attend classes in person, I was blessed with impactful and meaningful human connection through my volunteer work at the crisis pregnancy center. The Army rarely provides “breaks” in our careers in which we have the luxury of excess time–but when we do have time to spare, it is worth considering how we can use it to give back to our local communities. The lessons I learned and memories I gained from my year of volunteering at the center in Alexandria formed me in a way that formal civilian or military education and training cannot. Serving the nation as a member of the Armed Forces means more than going overseas to fight our country’s wars–our call of duty can, and should, be answered here at home, too.
About the Author
Brigid Calhoun is an active duty Army major serving as a military assistant at the Pentagon. She is a non-resident fellow at the Modern War Institute at West Point.