By the time I completed my third and final day volunteering at Crisis, I was starting to develop my own ideas about how the day centre could be run...
Some of the guests had expressed unhappiness at management’s insistence that guests showered before they were able to take advantage of the massage services on offer. I agreed and took this up with some of the ‘green badge’ supervisors. It seemed altogether the wrong message that we considered guests to be in some way unclean – especially as some of the guests were cleaner than the volunteers!
My many hours on security had also convinced me that we needed to take a harder line on preventing alcohol into the centre. The day before (Christmas Day) the police had arrived as trouble started to brew between guests. It was all drink related and I thought that was entirely preventable with a zero tolerance approach to allowing alcohol onto the premises.
But given that this was my last day, I thought I better concentrate my efforts on engaging the people I had come to serve. My answer was Chess.
It didn’t matter what country guests came from, chess was universally understood and could be played regardless of an individuals grasp of English.
My miserable defeat to one of the guests exposed my own prejudice. When we started, I assumed the ragged looking man opposite probably couldn’t tell his bishop from his knight. How wrong I was! It was actually embarrassing as he took my Queen without reply and set about cutting through my defences with consummate ease. What frustrated me was the speed with which he made his moves – I didn’t have time to think!
The highlight of my final day was meeting and talking to George. George was a statesmanlike Jamaican born man in his fifties who looked a little like Morgan Freeman. He was the most articulate person I can remember meeting. It wasn’t long before I was recommending that he run for London Mayor!
What I found absorbing about him was his twinkling eyes and that he would lightly touch your arm every time he wanted to make a point. He rattled through his views on European integration, immigration, culture, economics and the war in Iraq. With souring rhetoric, he concluded one monologue about terrorism which was punctuated with emphatic hand gestures, saying, ‘you see, we must take a stand, we must take a stand.’
So I finished my time with Crisis. I was certainly uplifted, surprised and inspired by the buoyancy of the individuals I had met. I had found little trace of self-pity – just a group of people who had come up against life’s harshest realities and were busy trying to survive.
Some of the guests had expressed unhappiness at management’s insistence that guests showered before they were able to take advantage of the massage services on offer. I agreed and took this up with some of the ‘green badge’ supervisors. It seemed altogether the wrong message that we considered guests to be in some way unclean – especially as some of the guests were cleaner than the volunteers!
My many hours on security had also convinced me that we needed to take a harder line on preventing alcohol into the centre. The day before (Christmas Day) the police had arrived as trouble started to brew between guests. It was all drink related and I thought that was entirely preventable with a zero tolerance approach to allowing alcohol onto the premises.
But given that this was my last day, I thought I better concentrate my efforts on engaging the people I had come to serve. My answer was Chess.
It didn’t matter what country guests came from, chess was universally understood and could be played regardless of an individuals grasp of English.
My miserable defeat to one of the guests exposed my own prejudice. When we started, I assumed the ragged looking man opposite probably couldn’t tell his bishop from his knight. How wrong I was! It was actually embarrassing as he took my Queen without reply and set about cutting through my defences with consummate ease. What frustrated me was the speed with which he made his moves – I didn’t have time to think!
The highlight of my final day was meeting and talking to George. George was a statesmanlike Jamaican born man in his fifties who looked a little like Morgan Freeman. He was the most articulate person I can remember meeting. It wasn’t long before I was recommending that he run for London Mayor!
What I found absorbing about him was his twinkling eyes and that he would lightly touch your arm every time he wanted to make a point. He rattled through his views on European integration, immigration, culture, economics and the war in Iraq. With souring rhetoric, he concluded one monologue about terrorism which was punctuated with emphatic hand gestures, saying, ‘you see, we must take a stand, we must take a stand.’
So I finished my time with Crisis. I was certainly uplifted, surprised and inspired by the buoyancy of the individuals I had met. I had found little trace of self-pity – just a group of people who had come up against life’s harshest realities and were busy trying to survive.
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