July 31, 2003

When I was younger, I felt an incredible amount of guilt. It was a mix of societal morality, civic responsibility, and a personal desire to be "good." Should I be working? Should I volunteer? As a kid, I didn't know how to express this vague and disturbing feeling. It just didn't feel "right."

My first year at school, I donated blood at a blood drive. I was really nervous; I hate needles. But I wanted to do something "good," so I screwed up my courage walked in there, got pricked for a disease test, then sat down and watched the nurse plug a needle and tube into my arm. I watched my blood squirt squirt into the plastic bag, tingles down my spine, willing myself not to freak out and bolt. It would have hurt ripping out of my arm.

I haven't donated blood since.

I tried joining an independent press, but I just didn't feel comfortable with aging activists and their monolithic diatribes of social justice. I felt too much like being brainwashed.

I started volunteering last year as a way to shake things up, try something new, and do something "good," although punching data, or filing years-old papers, or cleaning up a storage room doesn't feel "good," it feels like busy work.

However, I have met some interesting people and learned a few things, and I really don't feel like the time is wasted. Obviously, to enjoy volunteering you have to get something out of it.

Really, I think everyone should volunteer regularly. Donations are good, of course, but it's pretty impersonal. You don't get the physical sense of giving, just a check box on a form, or a digital deduction from your bank account. It's another way to connect with people and the place around you. That can't be bad, right?

Of course, like a good doctor, therapist, bank, or lover, you have to hunt around for a place or people that you feel comfortable volunteering with. Otherwise you defeat the purpose of reaching out to people to help them, ya?