It’s fair to say that I’m knackered. Not as knackered as I was on Sunday evening, but knackered all the same. Obviously I can blame it on age – at least to an extent. Although I know I only did a fraction of what some people did at Newark Book Festival at the weekend.
To date, Newark’s is the only festival I’ve volunteered at. But I have volunteered for other events over the years, from acting as barman at our local theatre to keeping score at youth football tournaments to manning a safety boat at our local sailing club. Every role is different, but the reasons for doing it are the same.
For a start, without volunteers, so may events wouldn’t even happen. Unless you’re in a major town or city, if you want a local theatre providing live entertainment, you need volunteers. If you want your child to play sports, you need a dedicated group of enthusiastic coaches, as well as people willing to help out with all the admin that goes with running local clubs these days. In the case of clubs where specialist skills are concerned, very often those volunteers will pay for their own courses – I know I had to spend a few hundred pounds to become safety boat qualified.
The irony of me writing this is that today I should have helped out at our sailing club, and I forgot until last night. So I’d pretty much double-booked and had to let them down. I feel bad about it, because I don’t like to do that. But sometimes things like this happen. Or worse.
A few years ago I tested positive for Covid the day before Newark Book Festival was due to start. That gave the organisers a real headache because I was due to cover a range of roles over three days. Fortunately, they found enough support elsewhere to cover those roles, but that’s only possible if you have enough volunteers.
Incidentally, I’m not suggesting this is all sacrifice. A key reason I continue to volunteer is because I get a lot of satisfaction from it. My personal skills have expanded: ten years ago, I wouldn’t have dreamt I’d be rescuing people from capsized boats, or pulling pints, for that matter. My social circle has also expanded. When I began helping out at my son’s junior football club, there was a time when I couldn’t walk down the high street without bumping into someone I knew – and usually several of them. Obviously, in the world of books, I’ve got to meet people I might otherwise not have done.
But, even without these benefits, there is still the satisfaction of having made a difference, however slight it might have been. Whether it’s teaching a child a new skill, or making sure someone knows where the next talk is taking place, or taking on the admin so an event can go ahead. Whatever it is, I defy anyone to feel worse about themselves for having volunteered.
As for Newark Book Festival, it’s a great place to volunteer, but also a terrific event to attend. Every year it seems to get better and better, and I’d strongly recommend coming along if you have any interest in books. Over the weekend, I helped out at talks about Byron and oak trees, as well as seeing authors of fiction interviewed about their writing. And that was just in one venue out of around 10 scattered around the town.
Look out for it in your calendar next year. And, if you aren’t already volunteering for something in your local community, maybe give it a try. There are bound to be things you’re interested in that need supporting. And if, in spite of what I’ve said here, it doesn’t hold any appeal at all or there are practical reasons why it isn’t possible for you, please thank a volunteer next time you see one. Whatever it is they’re doing, whether they’re doing it brilliantly, or badly, they’re doing their best to help make a difference.