Emily McCluhan

The Gratitude Pipeline

Est. Reading Time: 6 minutes

I used to think homeless people were scary. And honestly, in January 2019 when I started volunteering at The Beacon, a day shelter for the homeless in Madison, Wis., I chose the laundry area because it provided the most separation from the guests, but still allowed me to feel like I was contributing—a selfish and timid approach to volunteering.

But the laundry room became an opportunity to learn names and chat with people who swirled in the cycle of poverty. They wanted to share their stories and the good parts of their past lives. Every time I volunteered, guests would come to the half door of the laundry room and say, “Thank you for being here.” Or just passing by they’d shout, “I appreciate that you’re here!” 

As I lost myself in the process of the laundry room, I started to see that I wasn’t just doing laundry. I tried to put myself in their shoes: alone on the street, carrying all of my possessions with me, relying on places like The Beacon for my most basic needs. It made me realize how quickly I take clean clothes, a shower, and a kind ear for granted. For these folks, clean clothes means possibly being able to go to a job interview or just feel like a human for a few days.

Eventually, I started volunteering in the kitchen to get more exposure to the flow of The Beacon. What I found was a staff and group of volunteers that worked tirelessly to create balance for these people that face housing, food insecurity, employment, and mental health challenges every day. Lynn Currie, the volunteer coordinator, not only has to make sure her volunteer crew posts up in the right spot to help maintain this balance, but she also becomes a go-to person for the endless questions from both volunteers and guests. 

I signed up to work an afternoon laundry shift recently, and Lynn asked if I could come in early to help serve lunch. No problem for a funemployed writer. I don’t know Lynn that well, but she seems like the type of person who can tamp down her stress so that she can put her most patient and caring self forward. When I arrived in the kitchen that day, I could see the pressure quivering behind her eyes.

“I just need like three more people to help with some thought partnering,” she said to me as we prepped that day’s meal. I tried to imagine the volume of on-the-spot problem solving and constant compassion she has to give as guests provide updates on their situations.

About halfway through the lunch service, she asked delicately if I needed her to stay and help finish up. My initial response was, “Sure, if you want to.” She hesitated, and I realized that what she was really saying was, “I need to go do one thousand other things. Please finish this.”

I told her I could wrap up lunch; she thanked me and darted off.

As I was cleaning the last pots and pans, Lynn popped back into the kitchen and said, “I don’t have adequate words to express my gratitude to you for helping with lunch today.”

The sincerity in her face and voice shook something in my foundation. In my mind, I’d not done anything extraordinary. But then I realized that my extra 45 minutes of help allowed Lynn to put out fires that would’ve spread without her attention, or maybe just rest her soul and mind for a few minutes.

I’ve reflected on that moment countless times because I keep trying to remind myself of a few lessons:

1. How little it takes to make an impact.
2. How meaningful an expression of gratitude is.
3. When offering help, use actions, not suggestions.

That last one is the hardest for me. When I know a friend needs help, my immediate offer is typically, “Let me know what you need.”

That helps no one...except perhaps makes me feel good for acknowledging the need. 

After that moment at The Beacon, I'm trying to be more intentional and specific with my offers, even when it’s hard to know exactly what the person needs because some action is better than no action. You’re going to be in the car for seven hours with your dog? Let me take him ahead of time for a few hours to run around with my psycho mutt. You’re out of town longer than expected? Yes, I’m happy to water your plants or check on your cat. (And yes, most of my offers revolve around animals.)

I still struggle with all of this, though. What do you do for someone whose mom just passed away? Or just moved into a new house?

In my corporate life, did I step in enough when needed? Did I thank people enough for small acts of generosity? Or was I too busy defending my work and proving my worth? 

And as I venture out on my own to explore building a business, I’m trying to be more mindful of these lessons. Yes, I need referrals and testimonials to grow, but how can I help other solopreneurs and business owners? It’s an enormous world with so much opportunity for all of us.

I don’t have all the answers, but I’m aware of the impact these little acts and thoughts can make thanks to Lynn’s heartfelt acknowledgement that day at The Beacon.

I’d love to hear how you create and acknowledge gratitude in your personal or professional life. Leave a comment and let’s build a pipeline of gratitude.

Also check out the stories of some of the guests on The Beacon Facebook page. I’ve learned from these stories that being homeless is rarely a choice. You’ll likely find someone who started out like you.

Photo credit: JJ Ying on Unsplash