Back when I was working full time, I remember thinking that I would never, absolutely NEVER, want to do volunteer work in any capacity. What I didn't realize in my youth was that "work" is a misnomer for what one does as a volunteer. I also could not imagine having time to devote to something that was not providing me income. How can a person live if they are not gainfully employed? Everyone knows that food, housing, and a car cost money, while volunteering, by definition, does not provide any. The old adage of "Do what you love, and the money will follow" is such a glib cliché that I, for one, cynically just figured it was a pipe dream and should never be confused with reality. After all, many people love playing games, watching movies, napping, having sex, and taking long hot baths, all of which would usually make for inappropriate career choices. It's probably better to do what you are at least competent at and hope that it provides a reasonable salary. Oh, and it is a bonus if you do not hate it.
At the crucial crossroads of entering college, I had to choose which trail to take. I was passionate about a number of things, including drawing, studying comparative anatomy and taxonomy, observing nature, and playing clarinet. I had never had a good science teacher or any kind of advice on just how one makes any money in the biological fields other than going into a medical profession, and I couldn't see myself being a doctor, so I completely discounted pursuing a career in the sciences. Working in a natural history setting, like the Chicago Field Museum, seemed a wonderful occupation, but I had no idea how to even begin towards that goal. I also realized that I didn't like anyone telling me how I should draw, so it wouldn't be a good idea to study art with teachers who would probably think otherwise. I was left with the path of least resistance: music. It was an even easier choice because I had been making money, albeit a very minimal amount, performing and teaching private lessons throughout my high school tenure. I even reasoned that I could always do illustration on the side to supplement my anticipated low level of musical income.
As many people come to discover, almost any job can become less attractive over time. I loved performing music much more than teaching it, but the former never provided a living wage, so the latter had to make up the difference. My competency in teaching made it tolerable, even with all the bureaucratic aggravations, scheduling hassles, long commutes, and even longer days filled with intense one-on-one interactions. I was, however, pleased to bid that career farewell at the end of the 2002 spring semester, after 30 years of teaching kids to play musical instruments.
I am still rather amazed at how my husband, Larry, and I managed to make our retirement a reality. I could never have done it on my own, but, with our two modest incomes and naturally frugal lifestyle, as well as Larry's excellent management of our assets, we both reached that goalpost well before we were too old to enjoy it. After passing through the equivalent of a gateway to paradise, it seemed as if the possibilities were suddenly endless. I had time to pursue interests from my past as well as new discoveries. I'd only begun HTML coding and web design during my last couple of years of teaching, so there was time to expand our online sites. I also did more reading, artwork, and writing. I enjoyed my professional rehearsals and concerts more because I was not exhausted at the end of the day. I even started playing my secondary instruments (flute and violin) in amateur groups. There was time for a bit more travel, and I started visiting natural areas around Austin on a regular basis. I'd already been doing a bit of nature photography, but the digital revolution made it possible to realize my dream of unlimited "film," and I started using a camera as a way to better observe all aspects of my environment. Within a very short time, I suddenly found myself with a new passion, this time for entomology. I came to appreciate that, while music performance is an exacting skill that requires help from a tutor to really do it well, a purely knowledge-based field in science can be learned through self-directed study. Over the span of a few years, I started giving slideshow presentations on various entomological topics as well as using my expertise in identification to assist in guided hikes and biodiversity projects. Without even realizing it, I had become a volunteer, although it was not ever an official designation.
I finally did actually become a certified, on-the-record volunteer. I had helped out at a private butterfly/nature center called Wild Connections and joined the creator of the Hartman Prehistoric Garden at Zilker in pulling weeds, fertilizing plants, and unclogging drains. I then started visiting the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center and taking photos. Talking with the volunteers there eventually convinced me to sign up. Within a couple of years, I moved from helping clean up after caterpillars in the Insectary to leading my own program at the Center.
In the way that the river of life divides into numerous channels that sometimes cross or even reunite in unanticipated circumstances, I eventually found myself having a conversation with a friend in a weekly recreational chamber music group. He told me about an organization called Lifetime Learning Institute (LLI) that provided continuing education for adults and was always seeking new instructors. They had almost no classes in the sciences, so an entomology course would be a welcome addition to the curriculum.
After thinking about it, I realized that I could combine my illustrated lectures with some other teaching techniques and, well, it actually might be feasible. In 2012, I met with a small committee to propose, develop and market my course. That first meeting was a revelation. I found out the group was completely volunteer, including all administrative, secretarial and technical positions. The more I learned about LLI, the more impressed I was with the dedication, goodwill, and just plain common sense exhibited by the folks running it. Instructors receive a small honorarium which helps offset their costs for travel, materials, and other incidental expenses. As the target population served consists of older adults, all classes are held during business hours. A large number of locations are used all around town, so an instructor can choose a convenient site. Each semester includes eight weekly two-hour sessions. The tuition per course? A mere $20. At that rate, almost nobody is excluded by the cost. Compared to the similar programs sponsored by the University of Texas, this one really does exist to serve the public, not to make money.
There was a bit of preparation before I could begin teaching. In consultation with the locations manager, we decided I would use a recreation center owned by the City of Austin. As an instructor at a city facility, I had to complete a background check (arranged and paid for by LLI), but it was just a one-time requirement and I am now cleared.
Up until I started with LLI, I had only taught entomology in one session venues, although I had also taught a three-session course with another instructor. My first class was in the fall of 2012 and had about ten participants. A couple of other experienced teachers and committee members attended as well, which, along with surveys filled out by the students, provided feedback on the material and methods. It was quite reassuring to know that people found it absorbing and enjoyable, and the comments helped me expand which topics I cover. There was, however, nothing I could do about the most common complaint: the low temperature in the room is not under local control so people must just wear sweaters.
Although there were two semesters in which my class did not meet because fewer than the required seven participants were registered, I am now leading my eleventh course on this topic. In spite of the time commitment, as well a bit of prep work for each class, it is one of the most rewarding activities I pursue. Each new group that chooses to delve into the mysteries of arthropods presents unique perspectives and ideas to our class discussions. I've had college students, Master Naturalists, birders, a geologist, and a retired marine biologist, as well as numerous other fascinating folks, take my class, each contributing his or her insights, observations, and questions.
It is true that I find the material I am presenting to be endlessly absorbing, so much so that I often spend extended periods reading technical scientific papers just to answer queries that arise during our classroom sessions. But it is then equally fun to relay this information, in a more generally accessible manner, to people without formal training but with an excess of curiosity. The gratification I feel when people tell me that their fear of insects has diminished substantially now that they know more about them, that they find themselves being far more observant in their everyday lives, or that their gardens are suddenly much more interesting places, is amazingly satisfying.
So now, with several decades of deeper understanding, I realize that volunteering is not work as such, but it DOES work because it is simply doing what you love and not worrying about the financial aspect. The Lifetime Learning Institute is a true non-profit organization, obtaining enough revenue to remain fiscally responsible while meeting the needs of all who are involved, but, in the end, the real value lies in enriching the human experience for those folks. Feeling upbeat, engaging with a wide variety of people, and having the sense of making a contribution to the quality of life here in Austin are all worth far more than any monetary gain. I'm sure that the 1,000+ participants in 75+ classes at over 26 venues each semester would all agree.