Stepping Up To The Plate

By Martha Reed

A friend of mine asked me the other day just how many projects I volunteered for. Counting the Pittsburgh chapter of Sisters in Crime, and some work at my church, and the other odds and ends I probably volunteer to do something about twice a month. She thought this was extraordinary and asked me what I got out of it all and the best I could come up with was that: 1) it keeps me busy and out of trouble, 2) I get to meet all kinds of interesting new people, 3) I feel better about myself, and 4) sometimes I even run across someone who would make a great character or a situation that fits a plot. The bottom line is it beats the heck out of sitting around staring at the tube.

That made me think of how I came to volunteer. I think I knew instinctively from an early age to offer help without expecting a reward mostly because it was expected of me. Maybe I didn’t get the carrot but I never needed the stick, either. Plus, I learned that volunteering was one way to make sure you always got included in all the fun stuff - indispensability is a powerful tool.

It also helped that I have a very curious mind because curiosity overcomes a lot of situations I might otherwise skip out off because of caution or shyness. I have followed my curiosity down into the holds of ships, into a stall at a Texas State Fair occupied by a very regal and pedigreed stallion, into a Pow-Wow in the middle of Oklahoma. Curiosity has helped me peer into the La Brea tar pits, discover a natural Etruscan spring and wade through some scratchy New England cranberry bogs. When someone asks me if I want to go explore, I volunteer a “Why not?”

My point is this: I want to encourage everyone to think about volunteering at some point this week. Just do one thing and see where it leads you. Don’t be shy. You don’t even have to know the person you’re helping. Just open yourself up to the opportunity and follow it out. More importantly, take a deep breath and volunteer to lead somewhere. I work for some tremendous organizations and everyone helps out but for some reason people hesitate when it comes to stepping forward and taking on a leadership position. Why is this? Is it because we’ve been trained to stay safely in the middle of the herd and that if you lead you might make a mistake? I really don’t know why this is, but my friend and I agree that we see it over and over where the same six people do the same six things. How do we grow the audience participation?

Of course, I do know one way that works, especially in the ‘Burgh. Win the Stanley Cup and all kinds of people show up!

GO STEELERS! GO PENS!

April Showers

By Susan Helene Gottfried

I love April. Yes, even though I sit here clad in my favorite winter fleece, I love this month.

Maybe it's the unpredictability of the weather. The fact that April refuses to conform and insists on throwing us, day after day, a curve ball.

In many ways, I am the same as April. That's fitting, as I am an April baby. The month and I reflect each other. We compliment each other, we contradict each other. That's how I like it.

Most of the major events in my life have taken place in April. Not just my birthday, but my Bat Mitzvah, too. I graduated from college and passed my oral exams to officially earn my MFA in creative writing in April. I started my blog a year ago, in April. And this month so far, I've won awards and accolades.

About the only thing that hasn't happened in April was my wedding, which happened at the end of March. And what tends to follow a wedding but children -- neither of whom were born in April. Not for lack of trying, however.

Given all of these Aprilian warm fuzzies, you'd think I'd love my birthday. Remember, though, April and I are unpredictable. And, thus, I loathe my birthday.

It's not that I mind getting older. Not at all; I've earned these years. Even though I wonder if I should act sedate and wear pastel flowered clothing, I like where I am. I like the paths I'm on.

The problem with my birthday is simple. No matter how little I expect, I never get it. Oh, the Tour Manager is stellar on birthdays, don't get me wrong. And my parents never forget to send an e-mail. It's everyone else who presents the problem.

A few years ago, I declared the entire month of April to be my birthday. Despite the fact that you only had a one-in-30 chance of getting the actual day right, you were never wrong when you wished me a year's worth of blessings.


I had a friend who, a few years back, rose to the challenge of getting the day exactly right. Every single April day, he sent me a birthday greeting of some sort. A joke. An e-card. Every single day.

We've fallen out of touch since then, but I still treasure his effort. Just like April, it was unpredictable and wild -- and fun. It made me, for once, not hate my birthday.

This year, with the Penguins in the playoffs, I've got an equally good reason to draw the cheer out. I declared that my family was going to get dressed up and have dinner in a local seafood restaurant… only to have the playoffs interrupt our plans.

Well, it's April. If there weren't snags in the plan, I'd worry. And if we have to wait until May for my birthday dinner because the Pens are kicking the Senators back to Ottawa, that's a present in and of itself.