Volunteering with Yellow Submarine: six months on

As I read my earlier post about volunteering with Yellow Submarine again, the first thing that struck me -- well, the second thing, 'cause I had a huge grin on my face again after reading those holiday highlights -- was how little things have changed in the last six months.

People who know me will be scratching their heads -- in many ways, the last six months have seen more change in my life than in any other, or certainly since childhood -- but what I mean to say is in how I feel about the work I do with Yellow Submarine. In fact, it's inspired me to commit to finding full-time work in social care. And I say that with my feet firmly on the ground.

Certainly the rose-coloured glasses can be seen in that earlier post. I've since spoken to many people in social care, of course, and at least a few have tried to (gently!) point out that all the foibles of the world are represented in those we care for. (Of course!) Still, I maintain that were the proportion of kindness and generosity I've seen amongst those I've supported also true of the wider world, we would hardly recognise it.

And that's where I want to end this post (again): highlighting a few of the amazing people I've had the good fortune to meet through working with Yellow Submarine -- on ten holidays now, and many day activities -- and my local Mencap group:

A gift from Spa Club K.

• K. might've been born at a music festival, he was so at home during WOMAD. I'll never forget our walk to the main site one morning: suddenly K. has left the path, only to return with a wonderfully-costumed young lady in matching hoop skirt and parasol on his arm, looking pleased as punch.
• Just last week, I was lucky enough to meet D. as part of Yellow Submarine's Compass Project. We must've been chatting off 'n' on for close to an hour before he let drop that he was in a documentary; such an amazing person, and so modest! (It's called Ups of Downs, embedded below.)
• And last, but certainly not least, is K., from my local Mencap group (known as the Spa Club). He's a bit of a Renaissance man: he draws, paints, acts, runs half-marathons, keeps bees, will soon be coaching football... Rarely a week goes by that I'm not flabbergasted, learning of his latest project or yet another of his past pursuits. And then, the other week, he presented me with a drawing he'd made, for me.

I actually cannot express what this all means to me. I just feel... honoured to be a part of it.

Volunteering with Yellow Submarine: what it's meant to me

I'd talked about volunteering for years. I even gave up a few days here 'n' there. But that was part of the problem: my framing, however subtle or unconscious, was about losing.

And then everything changed.

I wanted to stay abroad, to stay in the UK, and volunteering -- being sponsored to volunteer -- was my best option. Filtering the list of licensed sponsors based on a reasonable commute left me with a few dozen options, from which Yellow Submarine quickly stood out. It just sounded fun. I wanted to know more.

I didn't know what to expect -- I had no experience with social care, or people with learning disabilities. From the first moment I contacted them, the staff and other volunteers have been so warm and welcoming.

It's hard to exaggerate the effect this experience has had on me. I really do look at the world differently now. These people I've met... the relationships they have with each other are so kind; so tender. Not all, of course, but most (by far), are courteous at the very least. And that's true of all the dealings I've had with the holidayers, without exception.

It's hard to credit -- or it was for me; and it isn't like I'm a cynical person by any stretch -- but I guess the simplest way to put it is that all the folks I've met -- and that's three groups now, not to mention the others I've met on days out -- approach others with a respect you don't often see these days. And I don't mean awe, or with a sense of inferiority; just with an appreciation of others' time. There's a gratitude in their exchanges that, frankly, I find so uplifting. You're just happy to know them. When the bus dropped me off after the Blackpool holiday, M. said, "Oh, John, I really going to miss you." It's a moment that still leaves me with a lump in my throat, in the best possible sense.

And then there's the pride that comes with volunteering for an organization like Yellow Submarine. The staff and volunteers I've met bring so much to the job. In my career, I've been lucky enough to work with some incredibly talented people, but there's something special about seeing those sorts of people apply their talents and energies in a pursuit that so obviously helps individuals and their families, day in, day out. It's truly inspiring, in a way that I can't say I ever really understood before now.

Incidentally, Yellow Submarine has just published a report based on a recent survey of affected parents, in the light of Oxfordshire County Council's warning that significant cuts to children's disability services are planned for late 2014/2015. To read some of the feedback in the appendices is to understand how much the holidays I help out on (as an example) mean to these people and their families.

I think I'll end this post with a few holiday highlights (thus far, and in no particular order):

• Seeing M. and M.'s faces as we walked out beside the pitch at Anfield, during our tour. This was quickly followed by excited, simultaneous jumping up and down and hugging, repeating "I can't believe we're here!" over and over. To play even the smallest role in bringing that sort of unbridled joy into someone's life is such a pleasure and privilege. A grin splits my face every time I think about it -- or write about it, apparently. :-)
• Hearing J. say that he didn't want to go home (at the end of the Dorset holiday), after having had a bit of a rough start, with many calls home. That excitement and those smiles were so rewarding.
• At Sea Life in Weymouth, having a lady stop me and, smiling widely, ask, "Is he always like that?" as G. shouted boisterous and heartfelt wishes from the sidelines to fellow Yellow Submarine holidayers and staff boarding a ride. He's amazing; so happy and selfless -- and I was grinning ear-to-ear as I relayed as much to her.

I can hardly wait for the next holiday!