EDITORIAL
Call a volunteer a superhero and he will balk. It’s not because he doesn’t understand that it was meant as a compliment. It’s probably because if we elevate our volunteers to Superman status you know, the strange visitor from another planet with powers and abilities beyond those of mortal men we are trying to get ourselves off the hook.
This is a week to celebrate volunteers. National Volunteer Week is a time to recognize and thank those who not only take care of their own, but also devote their hard-earned free time to taking care of perfect strangers.
Lawrence Township Meals on Wheels couldn’t deliver a single meal with them. And the Lawrence fire companies couldn’t blow out a match without them.
What makes a volunteer? It’s not a cape. It’s not a green ring with supernatural powers. And you don’t become altruistic after being bitten by a radioactive spider.
Maybe the spirit of volunteerism is as domestic as those times when we see a bit of clutter around our house. Even though we have worked all day, there are those times when we just can’t get comfortable until the mess is cleaned up.
It’s possible that volunteers are motivated to recognize and clean up similar spills, not in their home, but out in the world.
But there must be some kind of payback, right? There must be some kind of charge that volunteers receive from their work that keeps them going. We often hear the word "tireless" associated with their altruistic pursuits. It must be true. No "normal" person could log the hours that some volunteers do without dropping from exhaustion.
But maybe that spirit is like a muscle, which must be worked in order for it to be of any benefit to anyone.
Hours after saving Dan Obstein’s life last week, junior firefighter Matt Farletta could be found hard at work at his part-time job. Those who wished to call him a hero had to do it while watching him hustle around Varsity Pizza.
Maybe volunteers are just better at setting priorities and organizing their schedules. We all have only 24 hours a day to work with and they just seem able to accomplish so much more.
One thing is certain: volunteers cannot fly. They cannot leap a tall building in a single bound, either. They are just as human as any of us, which is good.
Because, if you ask anyone who runs an organization dependent on volunteers, they will say it’s becoming harder and harder to entice people into taking up the cause. If the superheroes disappeared, it would be up to us ordinary people to deliver the meals to the sick, to raise money to fight illness, to put out fires and to save lives.
But maybe it’s always been up to us. Maybe all we need to do is try to help, try to care, and we will be helping.
Maybe it’s time to stop worrying about the petty concerns that we find so much time for and roll up our sleeves. Maybe when we do, we’ll find a Superman inside.