Five volunteers on how giving back has changed them: ‘It gives you a massive amount of insight into your own life’
Helping others can be one of the best things you can do for yourself but, whether its supporting terminal cancer patients in Uganda or patrolling bridges in a bid to prevent suicide attempts, it can also be dangerous and demanding
‘You come away knowing the person is safe for that night’
On any given weekend, Waterford woman Ria Coady can walk as much as 30km in her role as a volunteer with the Waterford Marine Search and Rescue (WMSAR) suicide prevention patrol.
Along with colleagues, she patrols the quays of the city looking for anyone who might be considering ending their lives. It’s a sad reflection on modern life that the numbers of people who do this are steadily growing.
“It really is. I actually got into this because I had an experience crossing the bridge in Waterford during the day when I had to get out of my car to talk to someone on the wrong side of the railings. And in the last few years, the numbers we have seen have gone through the roof. It’s scary,” she says.
Volunteers with WMSAR are allocated each night to one of three roles — walking the quays, handling communications or being in the boats on the water. For those walking the quays, being able to spot people considering self-harm is hugely important. According to Coady, the big giveaway is body language.
“Someone might be just having a quiet moment on their own and be completely fine, just enjoying the peace and quiet by the water. But body language and the way they respond is a huge clue if there’s something wrong,” she says.
“If we come across someone on their own, we say ‘good evening’ and see how they respond. Sadly, you get to know by looking at people after a while if they’re considering something drastic.”
Coady has been volunteering for more than 10 years and, like all people in that role, she’s been put through extensive training on how best to handle situations that can be really upsetting. WMSAR also works closely with organisations such as the Samaritans and Pieta House.
“You’re in a classroom for around six months, once a week for three hours on a Monday night. You go through every single aspect of the role with different trainers, running scenarios and preparing for anything we might encounter,” she says.
“You need to carry a certain amount of emotional energy with you. The gardaí in Waterford are good at responding when they’re necessary, but yes, you hear some really awful stories about why people are where they are. It can be harrowing but you come away with huge satisfaction afterwards, knowing that the person is safe for that night.”
“I’ve fallen in love with it. I love walking and talking to people, and the people I volunteer with are like a second family to me, and there is great camaraderie in that. There’s no doubt I get more out of doing this than I put in.”
‘A day or two after I got to Uganda, I knew I couldn’t leave’
Miriam Donohoe with her god-daughter Pearl while volunteering with Hospice Africa Uganda in Kampala in 2016
“A powerful thing I was once told was, ‘You’re not going to change the world but, if you can change one person’s life, then you can change their world.’ It’s really true and it’s stuck with me.”
For Miriam Donohoe, a change in her circumstances in 2015 prompted her to reassess her life. Prior to this, she had a successful career as a journalist and was exploring changing jobs to work in PR when a chance encounter with Dr Anne Merriman, the founder of Hospice Foundation Uganda in Dublin, changed the course of her life.
“I was going through a tough time in my personal life when I met her and she stopped me in my tracks. She said, ‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself and be positive. If you want to gain some perspective, come with me to Uganda for two weeks and give us some advice on how to tell our story better.’
“I just thought, ‘Right, you’re on.’ I booked tickets to go in January 2016 and, a day or two after I got there, I knew I couldn’t leave.”
Hospice Foundation Uganda supports people dying of cancer in their homes, visiting them to dispense oral liquid morphine. Almost immediately, Donohoe could see the desperation of the situation. Many of those the hospice worked with were dying in extreme pain and poverty.
“After a week, I rang my kids, who were in their twenties at the time, and I told them I wasn’t coming home. They thought I was mad,” she says.
Donohoe stayed in Uganda for 10 months, volunteering as a consultant and advising Merriman on how to get the message out, before ultimately recruiting the staff that would replace her. When she returned to Dublin, she knew she’d found a new calling.
“The experience was very tough but it was also hugely rewarding. I’d had a hectic career up to that point but, with this, I started to feel really connected to what I was doing. There were parts of it that were very distressing but it also carried a huge sense of fulfilment,” she says.
“You have to be resilient. I had to learn how to disconnect a little because you see some awful things. There’s a real skill in being able to be present and help people to the best of your ability in the moment and then switch off and not think about it too much afterwards.”
Today Donohoe works full-time with Trócaire as head of communications, something she feels has come directly from her experiences as a volunteer.
“I feel very privileged that the experiences I had showed me a way I could help people and myself in the process. I was lucky that I was able to find a job that joined my communications skills with the ability to make a difference to people,” she says.
“I can’t stress strongly enough the value that volunteering can have. We’re all caught up in our own worlds with the pressures of life, paying our bills and maintaining a standard of living, and it’s easy to forget how much we all have. Giving your time for others can give you a massive amount of insight into your own life as well.”
Ciara Murphy, play volunteer, Temple Street Children’s Hospital, Dublin
When it comes to what motivates her to volunteer at Temple Street Children’s Hospital as a play assistant, Ciara Murphy is absolutely unequivocal.
“I just love kids but my dark secret is that I totally get more out of volunteering than I put in. My night shift at the hospital is the highlight of my week and I leave feeling incredible. There is no greater feeling than uplifting somebody and making their day a bit better,” she says.
Murphy is a scientist in a pharmaceutical company by day and teaches drama and singing at the weekends, but on Wednesday evenings she goes to Temple Street as part of a programme that sees volunteers play with sick kids and distract them from their woes, giving their parents a break.
Murphy volunteers through an organisation called Children in Hospitals, which works with 14 hospitals in Ireland. Each volunteer receives training, has references checked, is Garda vetted and gets child-protection training.
More than 400 volunteers are currently on the books, with each person committing to one evening a week for at least a year at a time.
“I am basically a big kid myself and I get on so well with the kids I meet — we’re usually friends pretty quickly. We sit and chat, read stories, play games or do art activities, whatever they want to do. It’s totally child-driven. The goal is to basically make them feel a little better.”
“We don’t know before we go in what age kids we’re going to be with. You could be on a baby ward where there are sick kids. Often there are parents there who have other kids at home that need to be cared for so we stay and cuddle the babies as they need to be held to feel secure and to get them to sleep. Or you could be in a ward with kids that range in age right up to teenagers.”
By definition, the children Murphy works with are sick and sometimes have sad stories to tell. While she’s always aware of that, the training she received for the role emphasises not prying into their backgrounds.
“Unless a kid wants to tell you why they’re there, we don’t ask. It’s fine if they do, but we’re there to help them and so we don’t ask, ‘What’s wrong?’ That also goes for the families. Our job is to make their lives a little easier at a really stressful time,” she says.
“We let them know that if they want to go have a shower, get a coffee, eat some food or look after other kids, then we’ll be there. Sometimes families do open up and it can be quite sad, but part of doing the job well is remembering why we’re there. We can listen and sympathise but it’s important to practically help if people want that help.”
Murphy and her fellow volunteers work closely with the hospital’s medical staff to decide where to best spend their time, as the staff have a 24/7 view of ward while each volunteer only sees a window of time each week.
“It might sound like a funny thing to say but doing this work is so rewarding that I feel it helps me in the rest of my life. The kids love play time and you can see the benefit right in front of you, but actually, inside, I think I get as much or more from it than they do,” says Murphy.
‘I’ve been involved in searches where there isn’t a good result’
Terence Reilly, emergency medical technician volunteer, Meath
With more than 30 years under his belt as a volunteer with the Irish Red Cross and Civil Defence Ireland, there’s clearly something about helping others that has enduring appeal to Terence Reilly. He’s an emergency medical technician and, in addition to being a community first responder in his area, he’s also taught CPR and first aid to the general public for years.
“I suppose you could say it’s a family tradition. I got into volunteering at the age of around nine or 10 because my dad was involved with the Red Cross in Trim where we lived. I don’t think I really understood the impact of it until I was older, and by then I knew it was something I could do and should do,” he says.
“My first qualification in first aid came when I was about 11 and I still have the certificate. It meant a lot to me at the time. I’ve done everything from CPR to delivering medications in snow storms to bringing fuel to people stranded by weather.”
As someone who has attended medical emergencies over the years, Reilly has experienced more than his fair share of harrowing situations. Volunteering isn’t always a walk in the park but he says that support from the people around you makes it possible to keep going.
“I’ve volunteered at concerts and seen people with drug overdoses and that kind of thing, and I’ve been involved in missing-person searches where a good percentage of the time there isn’t a good result. That’s stressful stuff that you do end up bringing home with you,” he says.
“But there is good support there and good people you can chat to. It’s important to be able to deal with it but there are some people who get into it and then decide it’s not for them. One day they’ve just had enough and they can’t cope, and, of course, we absolutely respect that.”
Reilly says everyone involved in volunteering is a human being and that means they have the same feelings and emotions as everyone else. But the job is important and support is crucial to make sure each person can give their time and go back to their families and day-to-day lives.
“There are big upsides to remember, too. You meet great people and have a lot of fun. I know a few people who’ve ended up married out of it and there’s great camaraderie. I’ve built some great friendships from it and that’s really rewarding.”
‘At least 20pc of people say “this isn’t for me” and that’s okay’
Tricia Nolan both works in the volunteering sector with South Dublin County Volunteer Centre and also volunteers herself. This unusual situation came about in 2020 when her organisation got a call from the HSE asking would they provide volunteers to help with Covid testing at the centre in Tallaght.
Nolan went with a team of volunteers to help establish that site and then moved with the HSE to Citywest to set up a new testing site, where she managed a group of nearly 300 volunteers to help first with Covid testing and then later with vaccination.
“Last May, we were slowly extracting ourselves from that when the Department of Children rang and asked would we stay and help that facility retool to become the Ukrainian transit hub. Today we have 150 volunteers there helping not just Ukrainians but all refugees coming into Ireland,” she says.
A big part of Nolan’s role is to manage volunteers and match them to roles that will work well with each person. Working with refugees means volunteers can find themselves dealing with traumatised people who have often freshly arrived from a war zone, have lost loved ones and are at the lowest point of their lives.
“We meet them when they arrive, help them through immigration and then we bring them in and help sort out accommodation. It’s very complicated because people are very stressed and usually everyone has some pressing need they want help with. They might have family they’re looking for or people they know that have come already,” she says.
“But our job is matching our volunteers’ capacities to the roles that are there, to make sure that the people these refugees meet are able to actually help them. It takes some mental toughness and we put seasoned volunteers with new people.”
“All of the volunteers who work with us will tell you they get far more out of it then they put in. Particularly during Covid, when people were stuck at home, volunteering was their lifeline and allowed them to get out and help,” says Nolan.
“I really love seeing people come out of themselves, broaden their personalities, making friends and thriving, and I also love that it’s a microcosm of society. We have people living in Direct Provision volunteering next to people from affluent areas in Knocklyon and Rathfarnham. We have Ukrainians volunteering alongside Irish people and the whole exercise increases understanding and knocks down barriers.”
Not everyone who wants to help is realistically going to be able to handle the more emotionally challenging roles at Citywest, but Nolan says the key is to make sure everyone goes through an induction process that helps sort out a lot of issues in advance.
“There’s a lot to it, and when that’s done properly, people self-select. At least 20pc of people who come out and see what we’re doing tell us ‘this isn’t for me’ and that’s okay. There are other things they can do.”
