In fifth grade, I met Ms. Johnson, my mom’s spirited Southern friend, who held the position of president for our elementary school’s PTA. Watching her command attention with her gavel and a strong voice, I aspired to embody her confidence and authority. Fast forward thirty years and two kids later, I finally had my chance.
I remember the excitement bubbling within me as I eagerly headed to my first PTA meeting. We were going to organize events for the kids! Plan fun carnivals! Create crafts! I envisioned bringing cupcakes to classrooms and reveling in the school environment alongside other parents who shared my enthusiasm for artfully arranged projects. Upon arriving, I was greeted by the aroma of tater tots wafting through the school hallways. I was thrilled to embark on my volunteer journey.
However, the atmosphere at that initial meeting was more serious than I had anticipated. The seasoned volunteers displayed a sense of exhaustion and some were even a bit irritable. Despite my initial disillusionment, I was determined to fulfill my civic duty and contribute positively to the school community. After all, I was called to volunteer!
Over the next eight years, I threw myself into various roles—chairing committees, fundraising, and even planning parties. I became a room parent, a chaperone for field trips, and a lunchroom volunteer. Together with a dedicated group of parents, I made myself available for any task that arose (just ask me about the time I brought a power washer into the school courtyard to clean the sidewalks!). Initially, I loved being involved, as it allowed me to connect with my children’s teachers and experience their school life firsthand. Yet, as time passed, my enthusiasm slowly morphed into feelings of resentment and fatigue; I found myself emulating that cranky parent I’d encountered at the outset.
In my eighth year, I ascended to the role of PTA president. That coveted gavel was finally mine, but as I led my first meeting, I realized that the role came with unexpected challenges. Managing a group of volunteers tested my patience and made me reevaluate my priorities. I witnessed the darker side of volunteering: power struggles among parents, hurtful gossip, and the complex dynamics of running a nonprofit organization. Issues surrounding liability, insurance, and finances all landed squarely on my shoulders.
As president, I became privy to bounced checks from fundraisers, last-minute cancellations, and the frustrations of well-meaning parents who wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. I found myself mediating disputes, navigating financial hiccups, and managing tensions between volunteers and school administrators. Late-night phone calls and constant emails became overwhelming, and my personal life suffered as I struggled to separate my home life from these increasingly demanding responsibilities. I often felt agitated, and my children witnessed my stress as I begrudgingly planned yet another school event.
As my health declined and my friendships shifted, I realized I wasn’t earning anything for the time and energy I devoted to this role. One particularly distressing day, following a harsh critique of my character, I broke down at my kitchen table, overwhelmed by the stress. Did Ms. Johnson feel this way too when she wielded that gavel?
That moment marked the end of my volunteer journey.
Since that day, I have stepped back from volunteering. Initially, it was challenging to resist the urge to sign up for events or agree to field trips, but I recognized the need to prioritize my own well-being. Some may deem this selfish, but for the first time in eight years, I chose to focus on myself. A few months later, when my husband remarked, “I haven’t seen you this relaxed and happy in years,” I knew I had made the right decision. Yet, if I’m honest, I still miss the satisfying crack of that gavel.
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In summary, stepping away from volunteering has allowed me to reclaim my time and happiness, reminding me of the importance of balance in life.
Keyphrase: Why I Stopped Volunteering
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