The majority of people who choose a career in the charity sector do it because they want to help people. Last year I was no different – fresh out of university I was eager to change the world and work with and for people who needed help.
I was accepted on a charity graduate scheme and was told that for the next year I would be completing projects across different departments and services. For the first six months of the programme, I worked across HR, fundraising and admin roles, rarely seeing our beneficiaries except in passing.
I didn’t feel like I knew the people we were helping at all – people who have severe learning and physical difficulties – and I was convinced I would be happier working on the frontline. That was until I started working there.
On the first day of my new project, which involved working directly with our service users, I was told to join in group activities and get to know them a bit more. I was given no training whatsoever and, feeling daunted, struggled when working with people with communication barriers.
I had never worked with people with disabilities before and although I knew the basics, I wasn’t prepared for working with our clients who were completely non-verbal.
If you don’t know someone’s non-verbal yes and no (gestures like rising up in your seat, opening your mouth widely, blinking twice), it is almost impossible to guess what they are saying. In one of my first sessions with the clients, I was helping at a pamper session where we paint nails, give massages, file and shape nails. The session is designed to allow female service users to relax which they might not be able to do in their communities.
I asked Alice*, a beneficiary who was non-verbal (she cannot speak and has two gestures for yes and no), what colour she would like. As I hadn’t been trained, I could not understand her and I started to panic. I picked two colours at random and asked if she would like one or the other. She just stared at me so I asked again. And again. I glanced over to another member of staff but she didn’t think there was a problem, and just carried on with another manicure. It wasn’t until I had to get up and ask another member of staff to help, by which point I felt horrendously embarrassed and nervous, that I knew what she wanted.
Usually if I don’t know what someone has said I do the usual smile and nod. But that sort of thing just won’t cut it here, and nor should it.
My colleagues have worked here for so long that I think they forget how daunting it can be. It would have been great to sit and watch sessions instead of being involved straight away. I know people say getting involved is the best way to learn, but in this case I would have preferred a more gentle approach. I can recall lots of times since when the staff have been amazingly supportive, but it doesn’t make up for the fact I felt completely lost in my first few weeks.
I’m now a lot better at working with the clients and communicating with them. And, it has been great for my personal development – but that doesn’t stop me counting down the days until I’m back at my desk.
I’m disappointed in myself that I am nervous about going to work with our beneficiaries and miss working at my desk in head office. I still really believe in our cause and want to help our beneficiaries as much as possible, just from a distance. I’d much rather be writing letters to trusts, analysing data, and writing reports, and it isn’t because I think I’m too good for frontline work – I’m just not good at it and it isn’t for me.
Does that make me a bad person? Am I less valuable to my charity? I hope not, but I’ll definitely go forward in my career admiring our wonderful frontline staff. Working with beneficiaries, and I think this is true for most of the sector, is challenging. Staff should be well supported to embrace this challenge, which makes a huge difference to the world around us.
*name changed.
Confessions of a charity professional is the Guardian Voluntary Sector Network’s anonymous series where charity workers tell it how it is. If you would like to pitch us an idea, click here.
