Volunteers Week

Law student, NUS delegate, asylum seeker and volunteer MD Mominul Hamid believes in following his Mother’s legacy ”Be there for your community and be there for your people and something good will happen in return” and as a result recently won The Extra Mile Award in the National Societies & Volunteering Awards.

Alongside his other volunteering and trustee roles, MD has regularly volunteered at the local COVID-19 vaccination centres and along with fellow volunteers brings a sense of community and fun to the sessions they attend, with their enthusiasm and dedication to helping others. MD has also joined in with the new hat craze, started by fellow volunteer Kevin.

“I am really glad and happy to be part of the VODA team and be there for our community.” MD M Hamid

MD Hamid featured centre, with VODA’s Liz Fry left and fellow volunteer Kevin Dickinson right.

Volunteer Kevin Dickinson has become a bit of a celebrity at North Tyneside’s GP-led vaccination clinics with his collection of silly hats. From what started out of necessity on a cold December’s day needing to keep warm, Kevin soon realised that his hats were a useful distraction to people who may be feeling anxious and brought a bit of cheer to their experience.

Kevin spoke to us about his experiences as a volunteer.

Why did you sign up to volunteer?

I was made redundant from the NHS in 2018 and decided to take early retirement. As my retirement hadn’t been planned I hadn’t worked out what I was going to do once I wasn’t working. By coincidence Newcastle was Hosting The Great Exhibition of the North that summer and I found myself volunteering at venues throughout Newcastle and Gateshead helping visitors get the most pit of exhibits and learning a thing or two myself about the town I lived in. I met some great volunteers that year who recommended other organisations to volunteer for and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed myself volunteering for a diverse range of organisations covering sporting events, the arts, science and health.

COVID put a stop to most volunteering though I still managed to do some things virtually.

I feel that the pandemic is probably the biggest threat to mankind that I will experience in my lifetime and when I heard volunteers were needed at vaccination centres I jumped at the chance to help and play my part in fighting it.

I’m proud to have been there when the first person was vaccinated at a GP vaccination centre in North Tyneside and to have played a small part in the great success of the vaccination programme.

What do you do when you were volunteering?

At the vaccination centres I am a volunteer steward ensuring visitors know where to go at each stage of the vaccination process.

I’m also keeping a look out for any visitors who may need additional help or who are anxious about the vaccination. Whilst it may look like we are simply directing traffic and having the odd conversation here and there we are trying to out people at ease by ensuring they are confident about the process and distracted from worrying.

We also ensure that any visitors who have queries can speak to the most appropriate person who can give them an answer.

Is there anything that really stands about your volunteering experience?

I started volunteering in mid December on some very cold days. I had a skiing hat that I usually wore when walking as it’s great for keeping my ears warm so thought I would wear it when working outside vaccination clinics. It hadn’t occurred to me that it had another purpose! So many visitors commented on the hat and one gentleman approached me to say he had been nervous about having the vaccine but had lost all the nerves when he arrived at the centre and saw my “silly hat”.

I realised I could brighten people’s days and maybe help them worry less by wearing the hat and soon learnt that it also worked to make the vaccination centre less daunting for visitors with learning disabilities or special needs.

Of course the weather improved and I also worked inside so I decided I needed a range of hats to cover each situation so gradually built up a collection of “rainbow hats”.

I’m still keeping an eye out for any visitors who may need help or additional support but I’m also singing and dancing in my hats to keep the atmosphere light-hearted and help out people at ease when they visit a vaccination centre and this seems to be appreciated by visitors.

The number of positive comments we have received from visitors is overwhelming and humbling to know that people really appreciate the volunteers.

What would you say to anyone wanting to volunteer?

Do it!

It’s a very rewarding experience, especially if you have direct contact with the public.

The great thing about volunteering is that you can do as much or as little as you want and there’s such a diverse range of volunteering oportunities there’s bound to be something there for you.

Anything else you would like to add?

We all get into bubbles (not the COVID kind) where we tend to meet and socialise with people similar to ourselves. Volunteering is a great way to meet a diverse range of people both in fellow volunteers and the public you will come into contact with. It’s also a great way to improve your own mental health as there are a fantastic range of experiences to participate in. Whether you do a little or a lot every hour of volunteering helps.

“Every individual matters. Every individual has a role to play. Every individual makes a difference. What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.” Jane Goodall

Photo of Kevin with fellow volunteer MD Hamid, who has also joined in with Kevin’s hat craze!

Volunteer Peter Mortimer kindly shared an excerpt with us of his musings on being vaccinated…

Meantime, off for the second jab at The Parks, North Shields. I felt cheated when the first jab produced no symptoms while the odd friend boasted of dizziness, fatigue, coughing or possibly St.Vitus dance.

The second jab produces few side effects apparently, so my chance has probably gone, and I cannot temporarily retire to my bed,

Being a bit ill appeals. Not the virus, something less drastic. The possibility of lying down for a week with no responsibilities. Aaah!

Pills-aversion mean I rarely take medication and switch off when the conversation turns to ailments (many older people talk of little else). Hence, for years I thought Paracetamol was a small country in South America.

Back to The Parks. I liked being there. The jab experience brings a sense of order and good sense. There were not many of us and we were well-spaced out in a hall the size of an aircraft hanger. An unspoken sense of camaraderie pervades. We are, each one of us, part of that fragile, brilliant, maddening, irresistible species called the human race and the moment affirms our vital interdependence. The volunteer staff were calm, polite, caring, the opposite of a jobsworth.

I found myself wondering – is there some strange process making us more positive and enthusiastic when we’re engaged in unpaid, volunteer labour? If so, maybe it’s time to base an entire new political philosophy on this fact.

I was escorted to one seat, soon after led to a second, before being invited to an actual jab chair.

My ‘jabber’ was a pleasant attractive young woman called Jen who smiled, chatted then produced the needle. Its sudden presence can make even the most gung-ho among us suffer a momentary sense of unease.

You mean they’re going to stick that weapon in ME?

Hardly time to consider the ramifications before the needle was in and out – less time than it takes to blink and with as little discomfort.

I was then led to a fourth seat for the fifteen minutes recovery. After six minutes I stood up and slunk off to pedal the four miles home. As I did so, a sense of guilt and betrayal weighed on me like a bucket of lead. My heart pounded with the expectation I would hear the booming voice “And just where do you think you’re going?”

For those twenty minutes, I expected the flashing blue light of a pursuit vehicle. Even after the journey, when safely inside, I furtively peeped round the curtains for any sign of the forces of law and order. What defence could I give for such a flagrant abuse of the law that may, for all I knew, put the entire national vaccination programme at risk?

I attribute these feelings to a catholic upbringing which leaves an individual dragging behind them lifelong a ball and chain of guilt. No matter I am long lapsed. Catholic guilt is not ephemeral. It does not wash out.