An antidote to burnout: neighbors helping neighbors

In the shift from one year to the next, I realized that like many others, I have been struggling with burnout and its associated symptoms: cynicism, self-doubt, irritability, and fatigue (not to mention eating Nutella out of the jar).??So it was good for me to get out from behind my desk and ride along with my Manna Food Center teammate, Elijah Ray, for food deliveries during the holiday season.?I am sharing the post in the hopes it helps others recharge their leadership batteries in uncertain, challenging times:

Manna never took on delivering food before the pandemic. Allergic to duplication of effort, we knew that there were other outstanding organizations like Meals on Wheels, Food and Friends, Moveable Feast in the food system that reached directly into neighbors’ homes. Occasionally the Manna team would muse about on-line services like Pea Pod and Blue Apron, wondering if those were the future of food distribution.?We also had some targeted partnerships with the Villages movement and Senior Connection to reach the elderly. Mostly we spent our time focused on "core competencies" related to food rescue, healthy choices, and community building. The highly contagious Covid-19 virus, however, made sharing groceries with those who otherwise should stay put an imperative. Swiftly staff and volunteers became essential couriers.?Thanks to community support, such as a grant from the RFI Foundation, Manna was able to purchase not one, but two, refrigerated vans, and we now make dozens of deliveries of groceries daily.

Because I learn by doing, and one of the best parts of my job is to cheer on colleagues like Elijah while representing out in the community, I jumped at a chance to shadow him on a route.?In one day, we were to criss-cross Montgomery County, MD from Langley Park to Clarksburg.?We offered up a box of staple items, frozen meats, and fresh items to each neighbor, mostly elderly, ill, or disabled. I learned from Elijah that typically recipients opt not to meet us at the door, so I was initially disappointed when we just left food on door steps.?Looking people in the eye and chit-chatting is always good for my spirit.?Knocking on doors and counting to 60 seconds without a reply gave me negative flashbacks of get-out-the-vote efforts!

What did, unexpectedly, shift my perspective for the better came on an elevator ride in a Silver Spring high-rise.?Over Elijah’s shoulder was a poster promoting a Manna food collection drive.?Manna’s inventory contains recovered and purchased food, and a good portion of donations.?The food we were putting on a resident’s doorstep included offerings from the community—faith groups, Boy and Girl Scouts, and businesses who mobilized themselves to offer up items on our “most needed items list.”?The serendipity of seeing the poster reminded me of the grounding of Manna's work.

Once in an annual retreat, way before the pandemic, staff talked about their motivations for working hard at Manna.?A factor that stuck with me, that was repeated throughout the organization, was along the lines of “seeing someone I know in line for food.”?It happens more than you might expect.?Our children attend schools where their classmates receiving weekend bags. Our distribution sites are located within walking distance of our places of worship.?Indeed, a point I often make on tours of Manna facilities is that you can come visit our lobby and not quite be sure if the people around you are volunteers, staff, or participants receiving services.?Yes, the Manna logo sometimes give staff away, but people from all walks of life come into our spaces, and their circumstances aren’t necessarily noticeable on the surface.?The high cost of living in the DMV and the fickleness of fate sometimes makes discerning who is a giver and who is a receiver difficult. At Manna our ethos is that we are all neighbors, coming together to share good food in welcoming spaces. It really does not matter who you are.

Granted, a food delivery drop off is a transaction, not much of a relationship.?But small acts of kindness, as the saying goes, popped up at this apartment location.?The concierge was not used to receiving “deliveries like this” she noted politely, but she was happy to let the recipient know we were on our way up.?A resident checking his mailbox offered to open a secured door to the elevator.??By hosting a food drive, the residents and staff of this apartment complex were having their eyes opened to the reality of food insecurity in their very own building.???The brown rice and low-sodium sauce placed in a collection box might end up right down the hall in another neighbor’s kitchen.?The recipes received with a delivery might end up posted on a community bulletin board.?

Elijah and I witnessed a virtuous cycle of effort in that apartment microcosm. I was given evidence that often—not always but often--when offered opportunities to care and connect, neighbors will respond.??I also did get a chance to talk to a few recipients, including one who helpfully pointed out we delivered to the wrong address!?

Burnout is a real phenomenon in the best of times.?This long-standing pandemic, tinged by political discord and seemingly irreconcilable views of reality, can make the likelihood of feeling overwhelmed all the more likely.?The delivery rides were antidote in that they helped me gain a new perspective on my work.?As 2022 arrives, may the freshness of a new year and the connections of a caring community lift your spirits and rejuvenate your resolve.